A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

do, having met the pontiff and his bishop,” Trevor said. “I will take that as a warning.”

“The prime does not warn,” Anna Kartor said. “You understand.”

“I do, even if Trevor doesn’t,” Brother Yvan said. “He is about to leave Ginster but will be returning often.”

“So the prime thought. We both wish you well, Trevor Arcwin,” the woman said, rising from her seat. She looked at the head seer. “I will leave now.”

The head seer rose, with Trevor and Brother Yvan following.

“You two can stay here and read the letter. I was told what was in it and will escort Anna out,” Lister Vale said.

The head seer shut the door behind him, and Trevor and Brother Yvan sat back down.

“Enemies within and without,” Trevor said. “Ginster isn’t any less safe than Presidon.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Brother Yvan said, “but you do have work to do, and vigilance is something you’ll have to continue.”

Trevor nodded. “I can always use that kind of practice.” He took the single thick page from the envelope and read aloud. The prime’s words were those of encouragement, and she said that through it all, she hoped they could be friends as well as allies.

“A nice sentiment and one appropriate to put in writing. How do you feel about it?”

“She supports me. That is all I can wish for. I suppose the secretary brought the letter as an excuse to give us more straightforward information without involving the prime,” Trevor said.

Brother Yvan nodded. “That is also why the head seer escorted the lady out and left us here.”

“Not something you want to have to do in your home city,” Trevor said.

~

Trevor wished he could have teleported west into Fuleria, but he didn’t know where King Worto was. Lissa and Volst accompanied him on the road. The only good thing about the ride was that he sat on Snowflake.

They traveled quickly and drew as little attention to themselves as possible, eschewing Lister Vale’s offer of an armed escort. Trevor thought that would only complicate matters at the border with Fuleria, which had reverted to giving them difficulty when they crossed.

“At least we made it all the way here without an attack,” Volst said as they entered a town miles from the border they had crossed earlier that morning.

“I’m less worried about an assassination attempt since we left in the middle of the night before the whole city could have seen me leave with the Ginsterian army,” Trevor said.

They left their horses in the stable yard and registered for rooms.

“Papers,” the innkeeper said with a serious face. He looked down at what they gave him. “I thought you were coming from Ginster.”

“We were,” Trevor said, “but we entered Ginster from Viksar. My papers were produced in Okora by a Viksaran magician.”

The innkeeper frowned and looked up. “Tall young man on a massive white horse. That is my description of the person who stopped the war. I thought you had come to stir up trouble in Fuleria.”

Trevor kept his mouth shut, but Volst grinned. “This is the very person who saved lives on both sides. He is a Brachian duke too.”

Trevor groaned inside. He wondered if they would even let him rent a room.

The innkeeper furrowed his brow and looked more closely at Trevor’s papers. “It is you.” His serious face turned warm and friendly. The man put out his hand. “I had a lot of friends in the Fulerian army that just went on furlough. You saved many lives and maybe my establishment if the Ginsterian army pushed all the way to here. Your room is on the house.”

The comment surprised Trevor. Had he gone from enemy to hero? “I’m glad you agree about saving a lot of lives. I hope King Worto has changed his mind about that. Do you know where the king is?”

The innkeeper laughed. “He hasn’t checked with me for permission, but he is moving with his Brachian army due west. You can catch up to him since they aren’t moving very fast.”

Trevor knew all about how slow armies could travel. “Then we will leave early tomorrow.”

“Breakfast on the house too,” the innkeeper said.

At dinner, Lissa congratulated Trevor, but she cautioned him. “There are people who won’t be as happy as the innkeeper.”

Trevor nodded. “In war, there are winners and losers who aren’t members of the army. Suppliers lost a lot of business because of the cancellation of hostilities.”

“War is coming,” Volst said, “but the fighting will be far south of here.”

“Jarkan and Maskum,” Trevor said. “I think you are right. We will have to purge the Maskumite magicians to stop the madness. That won’t be easy.”

“Especially if they are powerful and can move around with impunity,” Lissa said.

“I never got the impression that this messenger business was without hardship and danger,” Trevor said.

He patted his chest, feeling the hard surface of the cuirass beneath his tunic. Trevor suddenly wondered how the initial messenger died. Everyone had told him that legend said the messenger hadn’t survived the cataclysmic war that changed the world.

“If I get a chance, I’d like to know what happened to the old messenger,” Trevor said.

“I’m sure he is dead by now,” Volst said with a sly smile.

Trevor didn’t pursue his thoughts. He’d ask Brother Yvan or Reena to research in the seer headquarters library.

After dinner, they decided to go to sleep early. Trevor twisted the old magic ring on his finger. She’d learn about his doubts anyway, he thought. She sat at his side, looking bored.

“I am the fire that lights up your life,” Lissa said blankly.

Trevor laughed. “At least you brighten up my life. I’m not sure I want fire to do that.”

Lissa smiled and held out her hand.

“Take my wrist,” Trevor said.

It took a few