Enchanter (Book 7) by Terry Mancour Page A

clearly apparent. Before I knew it, the lecture had become a discussion on just what plans I had to curtail enchantments.
     
    That wasn’t really what I was expecting, and it put me in an awkward spot.  I finally had to intervene and establish some sort of policy on the subject.
     
    “I think Master Ulin’s lecture demonstrates the difficulty with blanket prescription of research,” I finally announced.  “With the end of the Censorate, the return of irionite, and the introduction of snowstone into the equation, we are clearly at the beginning of a new era in the art.  I see no specific reason to restrict it, unnecessarily.  I plan to consider abuses on a case-by-case basis and judge them on their merits.  If there isn’t a damn good reason to prescribe a class of enchantment, I see no need to do so.”
     
    It was a bold and openhanded position.  Of course it immediately sparked a storm of questions from the enchanters gathered.
     
    “What about necromancy?” demanded one mage. “Or malicious psychomancy?  Or sex magic?”
     
    “Warmagic enchantments should be strictly controlled!” came another shrill voice.  “We’re at the brink of another mage war!”
     
    “What about prophecy?” demanded a woman in the back of the room.  
     
    “That’s not enchantment!” someone else, one of the Wenshari magi argued, disdainfully.  ”Should not these enchantments be registered, somehow?” he added.
     
    The arguments went back and forth for a long time, and I actually enjoyed hearing them.  While nothing was settled beyond that, policy-wise, everyone came away from the seminar with a much better understanding about what they could do, now . . . and an unleashed enthusiasm to make magical wonders.
     
    I was able to escape at the end of the reception without encountering Dunselen again, and as a bonus I was able to grab Master Ulin’s elbow before he left.  The attendees had gotten so involved with the policy discussion that his insightful lecture had largely been forgotten - except by me.
     
    “I was very intrigued by your topic,” I explained to him.  “As you can imagine, it’s one that’s been heavy on my mind of late.”
     
    “Yet I am gratified that you have not yet resorted to prescription, instead of allowing research to take its natural course.”
     
    “I was trained as a thaumaturge,” I shrugged.  “The study of magic should not be unnecessarily curtailed.”
     
    “But enchantment reaches beyond mere thaumaturgic theory and into the realm of the practical,” he reminded me, as we crossed the street.  “When thaumaturgy becomes reality, then it has very real effects.”
     
    I glanced up at the white mountain looming to the south.  “Believe me, I know,” I sighed.  “And with all the irionite suddenly around . . . well, let’s say that it has made enchantment in particular an increasing interest of mine. As I’m certain you’ve guessed, Sevendor is starting to influence how other domains function, now.  Say, what position do you hold at the moment?” I asked, suddenly having an idea.
     
    “I am currently between assignments, Magelord,” he said, as if it didn’t bother him. 
     
    “Then if it doesn’t inconvenience you,” I decided, “please make arrangements to stay as my guest after the fair; it would be a shame to have all of this enchantment talent in my domain at one time and not make use of it.  See my Court Wizard, Dranus – he’s the Remearan with the shaved head in the corner with the Wenshari lady – and tell him I said to find you accommodations.  But I’d like the benefit of your counsel on some matters, for a few days – among other magi who have come.”
     
    “Any way that I can be of service, Magelord,” he nodded.  I could tell he was relieved and gratified at the notice.  I found out later that Ulin had sold nearly everything he owned and quit his job as a court wizard for a prosperous knight in Wenshar to journey all the