Triumph of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [9]
“No, not at all, my son.” The Cardinal closed his book, beckoning with his hand. “Please, come in. I haven’t seen you around the palace lately.”
“Thank you, Holiness. I’m living with the Sorcerers now,” Mosiah replied, entering the room. “It was easier to move in with them, since my work keeps me at the forge most of the time.”
“Yes.” Cardinal Radisovik nodded, and if there was a slight darkening of his face at the mention of the forge, its shadow quickly passed. “Just yesterday I was in the new part of the city the Sorcerers have built. I am impressed with the work they have accomplished in such a short length of time. Their homes are snug and comfortable. They can be shaped quickly and at a reduced cost of Life expenditure. What is the name of the stone of which they are built?”
“Brick, Holiness,” Mosiah said, smiling inwardly “And it isn’t stone. It’s made of mud and straw, formed in a mold, then baked hard in the sun.”
“Yes, I know,” the Cardinal replied. “I saw them forming these bricks, when I was in their village last year with Prince Garald. For some reason, the term brick refuses to stick in my head.” His gaze went from Mosiah to the palace garden outside his window. “You will be interested to know,” Cardinal Radisovik continued, “that I have advised the nobility to utilize this method to build homes for their Field Magi. Several of the Albanara were with me yesterday, inspecting the dwellings, and at least two have agreed with me that they are far superior to existing structures.”
“What about the others, Holiness?” Mosiah asked. As a former Field Magus himself, who had lived with father, mother, and numerous brothers and sisters in the magically enlarged trunk of a dead tree, he knew what a blessing warm, dry brick buildings would be for those forced to endure the vagaries of natural weather patterns.
“They will agree, I believe,” Radisovik said slowly Rubbing his eyes, which were overstrained from reading, he shook his head, smiling wryly. “I will be honest, Mosiah. They were shocked at the sight of the so-called Dark Arts of Technology and found it difficult to accustom themselves to thinking of it rationally. But with the Sorcerers dwelling now within the city walls of Sharakan, their skills on display for all to see, the people will become more accustomed to technology in time, I believe, and will accept it as a part of man’s nature.”
Mosiah saw the Cardinal frown again as he said these words, and they were followed with a sigh.
“A part of man’s nature that leads to war. Is that what you are thinking, Holiness?” Mosiah said softly. His hand absently opened the covers of another book that lay near him on a table magically and lovingly shaped of walnut.
“Yes, I was,” Radisovik said, glancing sharply at Mosiah. “You are a perceptive young man.”
Mosiah flushed, pleased but embarrassed. He closed the book, smoothing the leather binding with his hand. “Thank you, Holiness, though I don’t deserve the compliment. I’ve thought the same thing myself …” He faltered, unaccustomed to speaking his feelings. “Especially when I’m working. I forge the tip of a spear and I think, as I’m making it, that it will … will kill someone.
“Oh, I know Prince Garald says not,” Mosiah added hurriedly, fearing that his words might imply criticism of his ruler. “The spears are intended to intimidate or—at most—to be used against centaur. Still, I can’t help but wonder.”
“You are not alone in your wondering, Mosiah,” Cardinal Radisovik said, rising to his feet and walking over to stare, unseeing, out the window. “Prince Garald is a fine young man. The finest I know, and I speak from the vantage point of one who has seen him grow from child to manhood. He is all that is best and noble in the Albanara. He has an immense amount of wisdom for one so young. Sometimes I forget he is only twenty-nine. I often think”—the Cardinals voice softened—“of the light he brought to the dark soul of that friend of yours. What was his name?”
“Joram,” said Mosiah.
Hearing the pain in the young man’s voice, the Cardinal turned from the window.