shoulder Ely hurried inside. She quickly took a stool at the counter where Master Noak’s daughters were serving dishes of wafer cakes.
Jilseth wasn’t about to be dismissed so easily. She followed and took the next seat. ‘It’s been a good while since breakfast and it’s longer till dinner. I’ll have two of those and a glass of Ferl River red, if you please.’ She nodded at the coarser wafers, spiced with caraway and topped with slices of mutton boiled in verjuice and wine.
Ely had already opted for sweet wafers with honey and almonds, spread with fresh curd cheese. She looked sideways at Jilseth, finely plucked brows drawn into a disapproving line. ‘You’re spending a great deal of time with the Archmage.’ Her insinuation was clear.
‘He’s not ploughing my furrow, if that’s what you’re asking.’ Jilseth already suspected it was Ely spreading such gossip. ‘Any more than you’re quenching the Hearth Master’s poker.’
Let Ely reflect on that; she wasn’t the only one who could loose a rumour in Hadrumal. Not that Jilseth had any interest in such tittle-tattle. Nor was she interested in luring any bed mate, man or woman, from the Archmage down. Jilseth’s abiding fascination with her element left no time for such trifling. Why couldn’t people believe that?
Ely coloured with indignation. ‘No one would ever suspect me of playing Galen false.’
‘Of course not.’ Jilseth sipped her wine. That was true, and was also why any ribald speculation about Ely was entirely centred on why such a lissom and lovely magewoman remained so devoted to a stolid bore like Galen.
Entertaining as it was to repay Ely for her spite, Jilseth was more interested in what the Hearth Master might be saying to Planir. With the door to the rear parlour half-open, she could see them sitting with their heads close together, their expressions serious.
Unfortunately all she could hear was two newly arrived apprentice wizards, each one trying to explain their imperfect understanding of their own affinity to the other. The girl had caused chaos in a village bake house when the oven fire had roared in sympathy with her anger at a schoolmate’s treachery in kissing a boy whom they both adored. The youth had found his temper summoning up a coil of air to throw his brother so hard against their bedroom wall that his ribs had cracked along with the plaster. Both were equally desperate to learn how to turn their unsuspected magebirth into proper magecraft, and then to learn the more complex wizardry enabling them to command the other elements.
‘Do you know what particular news from the mainland concerns the Hearth Master?’ Jilseth chewed a mouthful of mutton and spiced wafer.
Ely took a swallow of straw-coloured wine. ‘I know a good many mages think it’s well past time for Planir to give up the office of Stone Master. The office of Archmage was always intended to stand apart from the Masters and Mistresses of Element.’
Jilseth wondered if Ely was deliberately changing the subject or if she didn’t know what Kalion sought with Planir. For the present, she had no objection to discussing this recurrent topic of conversation around Hadrumal.
‘When Planir finds a mage with an earth affinity strong enough, and the strength of character to meet the office’s challenges, I’ve no doubt he’ll propose a candidate to the Council.’
And that won’t be Galen, she thought silently. Ely’s lover might have substantial talents, Jilseth readily acknowledged that, but he had no imagination when it came to exploring earth magic and scant feeling for other people’s sensibilities. That alone would make him a disaster in high office. If Ely was hoping for influence through his advancement instead of her own, she was doomed to disappointment.
Jilseth might as well have said so. Ely looked as affronted as if she had spoken aloud. ‘The Council will never advance a necromancer as Stone Mistress.’
Jilseth laughed. ‘Is
Jilseth wasn’t about to be dismissed so easily. She followed and took the next seat. ‘It’s been a good while since breakfast and it’s longer till dinner. I’ll have two of those and a glass of Ferl River red, if you please.’ She nodded at the coarser wafers, spiced with caraway and topped with slices of mutton boiled in verjuice and wine.
Ely had already opted for sweet wafers with honey and almonds, spread with fresh curd cheese. She looked sideways at Jilseth, finely plucked brows drawn into a disapproving line. ‘You’re spending a great deal of time with the Archmage.’ Her insinuation was clear.
‘He’s not ploughing my furrow, if that’s what you’re asking.’ Jilseth already suspected it was Ely spreading such gossip. ‘Any more than you’re quenching the Hearth Master’s poker.’
Let Ely reflect on that; she wasn’t the only one who could loose a rumour in Hadrumal. Not that Jilseth had any interest in such tittle-tattle. Nor was she interested in luring any bed mate, man or woman, from the Archmage down. Jilseth’s abiding fascination with her element left no time for such trifling. Why couldn’t people believe that?
Ely coloured with indignation. ‘No one would ever suspect me of playing Galen false.’
‘Of course not.’ Jilseth sipped her wine. That was true, and was also why any ribald speculation about Ely was entirely centred on why such a lissom and lovely magewoman remained so devoted to a stolid bore like Galen.
Entertaining as it was to repay Ely for her spite, Jilseth was more interested in what the Hearth Master might be saying to Planir. With the door to the rear parlour half-open, she could see them sitting with their heads close together, their expressions serious.
Unfortunately all she could hear was two newly arrived apprentice wizards, each one trying to explain their imperfect understanding of their own affinity to the other. The girl had caused chaos in a village bake house when the oven fire had roared in sympathy with her anger at a schoolmate’s treachery in kissing a boy whom they both adored. The youth had found his temper summoning up a coil of air to throw his brother so hard against their bedroom wall that his ribs had cracked along with the plaster. Both were equally desperate to learn how to turn their unsuspected magebirth into proper magecraft, and then to learn the more complex wizardry enabling them to command the other elements.
‘Do you know what particular news from the mainland concerns the Hearth Master?’ Jilseth chewed a mouthful of mutton and spiced wafer.
Ely took a swallow of straw-coloured wine. ‘I know a good many mages think it’s well past time for Planir to give up the office of Stone Master. The office of Archmage was always intended to stand apart from the Masters and Mistresses of Element.’
Jilseth wondered if Ely was deliberately changing the subject or if she didn’t know what Kalion sought with Planir. For the present, she had no objection to discussing this recurrent topic of conversation around Hadrumal.
‘When Planir finds a mage with an earth affinity strong enough, and the strength of character to meet the office’s challenges, I’ve no doubt he’ll propose a candidate to the Council.’
And that won’t be Galen, she thought silently. Ely’s lover might have substantial talents, Jilseth readily acknowledged that, but he had no imagination when it came to exploring earth magic and scant feeling for other people’s sensibilities. That alone would make him a disaster in high office. If Ely was hoping for influence through his advancement instead of her own, she was doomed to disappointment.
Jilseth might as well have said so. Ely looked as affronted as if she had spoken aloud. ‘The Council will never advance a necromancer as Stone Mistress.’
Jilseth laughed. ‘Is
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