'If you will forgive me saying so, Highness, there is much about Yarmar and the rest of the Archipelago the Mirayans do not yet know,' said the fellow, impertinent as usual. 'Your people live on the coast and have barely brushed the surface of this land.'
'I find it hard to believe we would have missed such powerful mages. Why…?'
A scream rang out outside and there was shouting. Ezratah sprang from his seat and ran to the door, Duprey close behind him.
Outside a group of armed men seemed to be holding the farm family captive. Ezratah called attack magic to mind, but even as he did so a man riding a horse and flanked by two huge yellow mastiffs came around the side of the farmhouse. He was Mirayan, as were most of the men surrounding the farm family. Probably the local lord and his henchmen.
The man on the horse did not see Ezratah in the shadow of the barn. He was a thickset, older man with greying hair, a hard, scarred face and a hawklike nose. He leaned on the pommel of his saddle and said conversationally, 'So, Marren, I hear you had a visitor last night.'
'He's gone,' the farmer said through clenched teeth. Two of the henchmen had his arms twisted painfully behind his back.
'I don't think it's very nice of you to give aid to a fellow who beats up my men. And I don't think it's nice of you to hide him now. Where is he?'
'I don't know,' Marren said. He yelped as the henchmen tightened their grip on his arm.
'Marren, I'm a fair man but I don't tolerate disloyalty. You disappoint me. Perhaps your womenfolk might be a bit more sensible. You want to tell us where the fair freak is, girlie,' he said to the young girl of about thirteen.
'I will never betray one of the Guardians,' the girl said, white-faced but determined.
'Oh, impertinent words, little one. Let's see if you are so brave when my men have finished with you.' He nodded at the men and two of them closed in on her, grinning.
The other Seagani cried out as the two men seized the struggling girl. Duprey tensed and moved forward. Ezratah felt a chill go through him. Even native women deserved to be treated with the gentleness due their sex. A real man protected women.
'Stop! They are telling the truth,' he cried.
Everybody froze. An unexpected mage usually had that effect. The horseman was still leaning on his saddle as he looked at him. Not a man to be easily scared.
'Hold!' he ordered the men. 'And who are you, mage?' he called to Ezratah.
One of the henchmen, a man whom Ezratah thought he recognised from the fight the night before, said something in a low voice to the horseman.
'I am Ezratah Karanus. Late of Duke Wolf Madraga's Mage Regiment.'
'Karanus,' the horseman said. 'A good Mirayan name and a long way from home. How is it such an honourable name involves himself with tavern scum?'
I might ask the same of you, Ezratah thought. But since it was always best to get across rough ground easily, he switched into High Mirayan, which none of the natives were likely to understand and said, 'If you are referring to the tall, fair man, he beat three of your men single-handedly in a fair fight. All I did was prevent the fight becoming ten against one. I thought he acquitted himself very honourably for a native. Though it pains me to say it, he was more honourable than the Mirayans. And he made no move to provoke further trouble.'
'I see,' the horseman said. From the annoyance in his tone, it was clear he had not been told the whole truth. Not that it would probably have mattered. Mirayans had to stick together in a situation like this. 'So where is this fellow now?'
'I think he went off very early this morning,' Ezratah said, suddenly realising that this was probably the truth. He cast a dirty look at Duprey, who had obviously been distracting him. Duprey was looking at the ground.
'I don't know what direction he took, but he told me he was heading for the Horse Seagani lands in the north,' Ezratah continued.
'Is this so?' the horseman said to the farmer.
'It is, lord,' the farmer's wife said. 'Sir, I beg you. Believe us. I saw the fellow leaving over that hill this morning. And not a word of thanks for our hospitality.' She threw herself on her knees and held up her folded hands. 'Please, Highness, don't harm my child. She's young and stupid. She doesn't know her place.'
'You should school your children better, Marren,' the horseman said, averting his eyes from this forward woman. 'Or get her a husband who will beat some sense into her. I don't harm the children of loyal servants. But take care I don't learn otherwise. Stay there,' he told his men curtly. He walked the horse over the farmyard to where Ezratah stood. As he came up, he caught sight of Duprey in the shadow of the barn.
'Who are you?'
'Duprey, Highness. Of the Horse Seagani. On my way to St Stefan's.'
'Get over there with the other natives,' he said, then leaned on his pommel and looked down at Ezratah. 'I hope you're not some kind of native lover.'
'These people gave me good hospitality last night,' Ezratah said. 'And they are telling the truth.'
'Native lovers make no friends in these parts,' the horseman said. He looked briefly over at his men and sighed. 'So, Karanus, what are you doing round here?'
'I'm going to Olbia for St Stefan's. I fell in with the pale fellow, Yani, on the road yesterday. I must admit, sir, to a special interest in him. My liege, Duke Wolf, has expressed considerable interest in meeting one of these pale people. A tribe called Tari.'
'That so?' the horseman said curiously. 'Any money in it?'
'A duke's gratitude might mean that,' Ezratah said. 'However, now that he's gone, I'll have nothing to give but information.'
'You don't seem too worried about it.'
'I have hopes of a good position in Olbia,' Ezratah said. 'I cannot jeopardise it by chasing the mere chance of a reward.'
'I see,' the horseman said coolly. He stared at Ezratah for a moment. He looked and spoke like a lowborn thug and probably was. That was the problem with a new country like this. Still, he was no fool and was obviously not about to go running around the countryside after some phantom Ezratah had set him on to. Ezratah felt a sudden respect for him. It could not be easy bringing a new country under control.
'Then I will bid you good day,' he said to Ezratah. 'I will not prevent your journey any longer. But if you will pardon the advice, don't trust the natives around here too much. I'm surprised they didn't cut your throat last night.'
There seemed nothing for Ezratah to do but thank the man, go into the barn and pack up his things. He did so quickly. Before leaving the building he cast his eyes around the place where Yani had slept and was very pleased to find a couple of fair hairs caught on a splinter in one of the posts.
'You won't elude me for long, smart fellow,' he said to himself as he wrapped the hair in the piece of white linen he kept in his mage's pouch.
As he came back out of the door, the horseman who had been waiting for him to emerge turned his horse back to the group of natives and henchmen.
'Since this noble Mirayan has backed you up, I'll believe you this time, Marren,' he said. 'But I don't want to catch you sheltering any more travelling natives like this so I'm going to leave you a reminder. Burn down the barn,' he told the henchmen. The farmer protested half-heartedly. He knew he was getting off lightly. His wife was busy picking their weeping daughter off the ground and leading her into the house. The other three natives, Duprey, Marren, and his pregnant daughter Arlette, scrambled to get the animals out of the barn.
It seemed a fair lesson. Ezratah knew full well that the farmer was lying about Yani's direction, because he had backed up Ezratah's lies. Somehow the barn burning diminished his unease about undermining a fellow Mirayan. Now he was free to gain his advantage from the Tari. And he would, too, the minute he caught up with him.
Chapter