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"Mriswith?"
"Richard killed a mriswith. Isn't that what you wanted to ask about?"
"Really? A mriswith? No..." he turned back to Richard. "I wanted to ask if you would care to come down to the vaults some time, and look at the prophecies with me."
Richard didn't want to embarrass the young man, but he had no interest in prophecies. "I'm honored by the offer, Warren, but I'm afraid that I'm not much good with riddles."
Warren diverted his eyes to the floor. "Of course, I understand. Not many of the others are much interested in the books, either. I just thought that maybe, well, I just thought that since you mentioned that particular prophecy yesterday, that maybe you would want to talk about it. It's a unique piece of work. But I understand. I'm sorry to have bothered you."
Richard frowned. "What prophecy?"
"The one you mentioned at the end. About you being, well," Warren swallowed, "the bringer of death. It's just that I don't think I've even met anyone from the prophecies before." He blinked in awe. "Since you are in the prophecies, I thought, well, I thought maybe..." his voice trailed off. He looked down at the floor as he started to turn away. "But I understand. I'm sorry to have..."
Richard gently caught hold of Warren's arm and turned him back. "Like I said, I'm not very good with riddles. But maybe you could teach me something about them, so I wouldn't be so ignorant. I do like to learn."
Warren's face brightened. His whole body seemed to swell. When he straightened, he was almost as tall as Richard.
"I'd like that. I would really like to talk to you about that prophecy. It's a real conundrum. To this day, the argument over it has never been settled. Maybe with your help..."
A broad shouldered man in plain robes, and wearing a Rada'han, slipped up silently, took a fistful of Warren's robe at the shoulder and moved him aside. His eyes were locked on Pasha the whole time. He gave her a smooth smile.
"Good evening, Pasha. It will be dinner time soon. I've decided to take you." His eyes glided down the length of her and then back up. "If you can get yourself cleaned up. And do something with your hair. You look a mess. You better get to it."
He started to turn away. Pasha put her arm through Richard's.
"I'm afraid I have other plans, Jedidiah."
Jedidiah gave Richard a cursory glance. "What, this country boy? The two of you going to go chop wood, or maybe skin rabbits?"
"You're the one," Richard said. "I remember your voice. You're the one who called down from the balcony, yesterday, asking, 'All by yourself?'"
Jedidiah's condescending smile looked to come easily to him. "An appropriate question, don't you think?"
Pasha lifted her chin. "Richard killed a mriswith."
Jedidiah's eyebrows went up in mock wonder. "Well how brave of the country boy."
"You've never killed a mriswith," Warren spoke up.
Jedidiah slowly turned a withering glare on Warren. Warren shrank away. "What are you doing above ground, Mole?" He turned back to Pasha. "And did you see him kill it? I would wager he was alone when he claimed to have killed it. He probably found a mriswith that had died of old age, stabbed it with his sword, and then bragged to you, to try to impress you." He redirected a smirk to Richard. "Isn't that about the way it happened, country boy?"
Richard grinned. "You've caught me cold. You have it right."
"As I thought." He twitched a small smile to Pasha. "Come to me later, child, and I'll show you some real magic. A man's magic."
Jedidiah strode away imperiously and disappeared around a corner. Pasha put her fists to her hips.
"Why did you say that! Why did you let him think that!"
"I did it for you," Richard said. "I thought you wanted me to stop causing trouble and act a gentleman."
She folded her arms in a huff. "Well, I do."
Richard turned to Warren, still shrunk back against the marble newel post. "If he does anything to you, Warren, I want you to come tell me. It's me that's the the thorn in his pants. If he takes it out on you, you come tell me."
Warren brightened. "Really? Thank you, Richard. But I don't think he would bother with me. And I'll be seeing you down in the vaults, when you have the time." He cast a shy smile at Pasha. "Good night, Pasha. So nice to see you again. You look lovely tonight. Good night."
She smiled. "Good night Warren." She watched him scurry off down the hall. "What a strange young man. I almost couldn't remember his real name. Everyone calls him the Mole. He almost never comes up from the vaults under the Palace."
She glanced sideways to Richard. "Well, you've made a friend tonight who can be of no help to you, and an enemy who can harm you. You stay away from Jedidiah. He's an experienced wizard, close to being released. Until you learn to defend yourself with your Han, he can hurt you. He can kill you."
"I thought we were one big happy family."
"There is a pecking order among wizards. Wizards with the strongest power vie for dominance. It sometimes gets very dangerous. Jedidiah is the pride of the Palace, and does not take well to the idea that another may challenge his supremacy."
"I am hardly a challenge to the power of a wizard."
Pasha lifted an eyebrow. "Jedidiah never killed a mriswith, and everyone knows that."
Feeling decidedly uncomfortable in the red coat Pasha had selected, Richard tried to enjoy the lentil porridge they had prepared especially for him. Pasha wore a stunning dark green dress that did more to reveal her figure than cover it. Richard thought it revealed more of her breasts than was prudent. The young men there as guests of Sisters or their novice did little eating, and a lot of watching. None missed a move Pasha made.
Many of the young men in collars came by and introduced themselves to Richard, saying they wanted to get to know him better. They promised to show him the city and some of its more interesting sights. Pasha's face reddened at the last. Richard asked if they knew where the guards went for ale, and they promised to take him there whenever he wished.
Sisters of every age, shape, and size came to greet him. They all acted as if the events of the night before had never take place. When Richard asked Pasha why, she said all the Sisters understood the difficulty a young man had in making the adjustment of coming to the Palace. She said they were accustomed to such outbursts of emotion, and didn't take them to heart. Richard kept to himself the thought that this time they should.
Some of the Sisters smiled and said they hoped they would be given the opportunity to work with him, and a few scowled and promised they would be seeing him, and promised not to be tolerant of anything less than his best efforts. Richard smiled and said he would give them nothing less than his best. He wondered to himself what he was committing to.
Near the end of the meal, two attractive young women, one in a satiny pink dress, the other in yellow, rushed in, stopping at various tables, speaking in whispers to other young women. They at last came to the corner where Richard and Pasha sat.
One bent close to Pasha. "Have you heard?" Pasha stared with a blank look. "Jedidiah fell down a flight of stairs." Her eyes sparkled with the telling of the gossip. She leaned closer with the titillation of what she had to tell next. "Broke his leg."
Pasha gasped. "No! When? We just saw him a while ago."
The woman giggled and nodded. "Yes, it's true. It just happened, not but a few minutes ago. The healers are with him now. No need for concern; he'll be back to good by morning."
"How did it happen?"
The woman shrugged. "Just clumsy. Tripped on the carpet and tumbled down." She lowered her voice. "He was so furious he flamed the carpet to ash."
"Wizard's fire!" Pasha whispered incredulously. "In the Palace? Such a high crime..."
"No, no, not wizard's fire, of course not, silly girl. Even Jedidiah is not that brazen. Just simple fire. But it was one of the oldest carpets in the Palace. The Sisters are not pleased at his display of temper. They ordered the bone, and the pain, not be mended until morning, as punishment."
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nbsp; Their gossip finally expended, the two young women's eyes and smiles settled on Richard. Pasha introduced them as two friends of hers, Celia and Dulcy, two novices with charges of their own. Richard was polite, complimenting them on their pretty dresses, and the way their hair was curled. Their smiles widened.
Taking his arm when they finally left, Pasha thanked him.
"For what?"
"I've never been permitted to eat with the Sisters, or with the novices who have a young man to train. This is the first time I've ever been to dinner just like I was a Sister. You were pleasant and considerate of everyone; I was so proud to have you with me. And, you look very handsome in those clothes."
"In that dress, I would imagine you could easily get someone better bred than me as a dinner companion." Richard pulled open the fancy shirt collar. "I've never worn a shirt this ruffled, or white. Nor a coat this red. I think I look foolish."
A self-satisfied smile spread on Pasha's face. "I can promise you that Celia and Dulcy do not think you look foolish. I'm surprised you couldn't see them glowing green. I thought maybe they might decide to sit right down on your lap."
Richard thought that if Celia an Dulcy liked the red coat so much, they could have it, but he kept the thought to himself. "Why doesn't an important wizard like Jedidiah wear fancy clothes?"
"Only beginning wizards wear clothes like this, and are permitted to go into the city. At certain milestones in a wizard's advancement, they change to a particular form of dress. The further a wizard progress, the more modest his dress. That is why Jedidiah wears simple tan robes, because he has nearly reached the end of his training."
"What is the purpose of such an odd rule?"
"To teach humility. Those with the nicest clothes, the most freedom, and unlimited money, are those with the least power. No one respects them for these things. It is meant to teach the young men that mastery comes from within, not from external trappings."
"Then, wearing these things is a demotion for me. I was already wearing humble clothes."
