Raven's Shadow (Raven #1)(63)

"Right," said Tier. He hadn't realized that the boy was a figurehead, but then he hadn't concerned himself with any news outside of Redern since he'd left Gerant's services several years before the last Phoran died. "Twenty-sixth," he said aloud.

"Only if you don't count the first Phoran," said Phoran, not the least discomposed. "I like to, though my father didn't. Are you still with me?"

"Right," Tier nodded. "You have a bill, obviously a favor, but not for a Sept who is very powerful. So if you decide to decline to sign it, you're not going to make a slew of enemies. Who could object to your refusal to grant one Sept's lands to another without better reason than you've been given? And I'll put up my right arm that Gerant is no traitor or mischief maker that will embarrass you on this. He's true as oak. So you refuse to sign it, and the rest of the council either supports you, or makes it look like they think the council should have the right to take land from whatever Sept they want without giving an adequate reason."

"That's it," said the boy, gathering up his map and document. "And I have a toehold into ruling on my own. So, you have done me a favor." Carefully he folded the parchment so it fit into his pocket with the map. "I owe you an equal favor. Before I determine how best to repay you, tell me what you are doing here, what this Path that I'm not a member of is, and what the two have to do with each other."

"It's faster if I start with the Path," said Tier after thinking about it for a minute. "The rest of the story should fall out of that." Briefly he outlined the information Telleridge and Myrceria had given him.

Phoran stopped him. "They kill the Traveler wizards for power, these wizards who wear black robes?"

Tier nodded. "So I'm told. I've only met two people - three with you - since I was brought here." He thought the ladies in the bath didn't count. "I haven't actually seen any of this for myself."

"You still haven't told me what you are doing here," said Phoran. "Or who you are, other than someone who fought under Gerant in the last war."

"I am a farmer who occasionally sings for a few coppers at the local tavern in Redern," Tier said. "I usually spend the winter months trapping for furs. I was on my way home. I have a vague memory of seeing a group of strangers, and then I awoke in this cell. Telleridge - that's the man I told you about - "

"Telleridge?" said Phoran. "I know him, though I didn't know he was a wizard. Did he tell you why they wanted you enough to take you from Redern?" asked Phoran. Then a strange expression came over his face. "Is that the Redern that belongs to the Sept of Leheigh?"

"Yes," Tier agreed.

"Avar?" said Phoran almost to himself.

Avar, Tier recalled, was the given name of the new Sept, the new Sept who was supposed to be so influential with the Emperor.

"Is Avar a member of this Path?"

Tier shrugged. "I don't know. The only two I've met by name are Telleridge and Myrceria - and I don't think she'd be considered a member."

Phoran got to his feet and began pacing. "Why you?" he asked again. "Why did they go all the way to Redern to find you? You aren't a Traveler, not if you're a farmer in Redern who used to be a solder."

"Because I have a magical talent usually associated with the Travelers," replied Tier. Preempting the next question, he began telling Phoran what he knew about the Orders.

Phoran held up a hand. "Enough," he said. "I believe you. Let's get you out of here, then you can explain anything you feel necessary."

Tier followed him to the threshold, but when he leaned forward to step through the door, white-hot pain convulsed his body and a shock of magic threw him back several feet into the cell.

"What was that?" said Phoran, startled.

"He is bound," said the Memory. It sounded like a crow's mating call or the rattle of dry bones.

Tier wobbled to his feet. "It talks?"

The Emperor looked at the Memory. "Sometimes. But this is the first time it's ever volunteered information. Are you all right?"

Tier nodded. "Your Memory is right. There must be some sort of magic here I cannot cross."

"Can you do something with it? Didn't you say that you have magic?"

"He is bound," said the Memory again.

"Stop that," said Tier, a command that usually worked when Jes began to get too creepy. He turned to Phoran. "I don't have the kind of magic that could counter this, and they have managed to keep me from what little useful magic I do have. It looks like I'm stuck here."

Phoran nodded. "Very well." He came back into the room and shut the door. "There are wizards who are supposed to serve me, or serve the Empire at least, but I don't know if any of them are the ones who belong to the Path. Find out who the Path's wizards are, and then maybe I can find a wizard to undo this."

He gave Tier an apologetic look. "I am more emperor in name than in reality or I could just order your release. The twentieth - nineteenth by common reckoning - had real power."

Tier grinned, "That's because he'd ordered the death of fifteen Septs by the time he was your age and accounted for another three or four personally."