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and platters. Lydia van Bredevoort, delicately conjuring up a tiny flame between her thumb
and index finger, lit the candles in the candelabras. Tissaia saw traces of oil paint on her hand.
She filed it in her memory so later, after supper, she could ask the young enchantress to show
her her latest work. Lydia was a talented artist.
They supped in silence. Artaud Terranova did not stint himself and reached without
embarrassment for the platters and - probably a little too frequently, and without his host's
encouragement clanged the silver top of the carafe of red wine. Tissaia de Vries ate slowly,
devoting more attention to arranging her plates, cutlery and napkins symmetrically - although,
in her opinion, they still lay irregularly and hurt her predilection for order and her aesthetic
sensibility - than to the fare. She drank sparingly. Vilgefortz ate and drank even more
sparingly. Lydia, of course, did not drink or eat at all.
The candle flames undulated in long red and golden whiskers of fire. Drops of rain tinkled
against the stained glass of the windows.
'Well, Vilgefortz,' said Terranova finally, rummaging in a platter with his fork in search of an
adequately fatty piece of game. 'What is your position regarding our monarchs' behaviour?
Hen Gedymdeith and Francesca sent us here because they want to know your opinion. Tissaia
and I are also interested. The Chapter wants to assume a unanimous stand in this matter. And,
should it come to action, we also want to act unanimously. So what do you advise?'
'It flatters me greatly' with a gesture, Vilgefortz thanked Lydia,
who was offering to put more broccoli on his plate - 'that my opinion in this matter should be
decisive for the Chapter.'
'No one said that.' Artaud poured himself some more wine. 'We're going to make a collective
decision anyway, when the Chapter meets. But we wish to let everybody have the opportunity
to express themselves beforehand so we can have an idea of all the various views. We're
listening, therefore.'
If we've finished supping, let us go through into the workshop, Lydia proposed telepathically,
smiling with her eyes. Terranova looked at her smile and quickly downed what he had in his
chalice. To the dregs.
'Good idea.' Vilgefortz wiped his fingers on a napkin. 'We'll be more comfortable there. My
protection against magical eavesdropping is stronger there, too. Let us go. You can bring the
carafe, Artaud.'
'I won't say no. It's my favourite vintage.'
They went through to the workshop. Tissaia could not stop herself from casting an eye over
the workbench weighed down with retorts, crucibles, test-tubes, crystals and numerous
magical utensils. All were enveloped in a screening spell, but Tissaia de Vries was an
Archmage - there was no screen she could not penetrate. And she was a little curious as to
what the mage had been doing of late. She worked out the configuration of the recently used
apparatus in a flash. It served for the detection of persons who had disappeared while enabling
a psychic vision by means of the 'crystal, metal, stone' method. The wizard was either
searching for someone or resolving a theoretical, logistical problem. Vilgefortz of Roggeveen
was well known for his love of solving such problems.
They sat down in carved ebony armchairs. Lydia glanced at Vilgefortz, caught the sign
transmitted by his eye and immediately left. Tissaia sighed imperceptibly.
Everyone knew that Lydia van Bredevoort was in love with Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, that she
had loved him for years with a silent, relentless and stubborn love. The wizard, it is to be
understood, also knew about this but pretended not to. Lydia made it easier for him by never
betraying her feelings to him she never
took the slightest step or made the slightest gesture, transmitted no sign by thought and, even
if she could speak, would never have said a word. She was too proud. Vilgefortz, too, did
nothing because he did not love Lydia. He could, of course, simply have have made her his
lover, tied her to him even more strongly and, who knows, maybe even made her happy.
There were those who advised him to do so. But Vilgefortz did not. He was too proud and too
much a man of principle. The situation, therefore, was hopeless but stable, and this patently
satisfied them both.
'So.' The young wizard broke the silence. 'The Chapter are racking their brains about what to
do about the initiatives and plans of our kings? Quite unnecessarily. Their plans must simply
be ignored.'
'I beg your pardon?' Artaud Terranova froze with the chalice in his left hand, the carafe in his
right. 'Did I understand you correctly? We are to do nothing? We're to let '
'We already have,' interrupted Vilgefortz. 'Because no one asked us for our permission. And
no one will. I repeat, we ought to pretend that we know nothing. That is the only rational thing
to do.'
'The things they have thought up threaten war, and on a grand scale at that.'
'The things they have thought up have been made known to us thanks to enigmatic and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]