Chapter B4C69 - Divine Law
“Where are they?” Recillia demanded.
“I-I don’t know,” Grand Magister Tommat replied. “It must be taking longer than anticipated to settle matters in the city.”
The fear was so prevalent in his tone that the Lady of house Erryn could no longer prevent her contempt from showing on her face.
“This tower is rotten from top to bottom,” she hissed, her voice full of venom. “I have been too soft on you Magisters. That will change in the future.”
Tommat quailed in the face of her open hostility. He had never seen such an expression on her face or heard such open dislike from her. The mask had finally slipped, and the snake within was baring its fangs in his face. All of his years as a Magister had not prepared him to confront a Noble in such a state. He felt weak, unable to act or think in the face of her rising anger.
“To think so many of you are scions of the Houses. It makes me sick to think I share blood with a single Magister,” she growled. “Fat, indolent and useless, every one of you. If I had my way, the Duke would hang the lot of you and we could draw replacements from a pig farm. Torturing you for your incompetence is wholly insufficient. A single mage has breached the tower! One! Are you so incapable of managing a single person if they aren’t branded?”
She leaned down, right in his face as her diatribe continued, her eyes boring into his own, and the old man could not look away. If she wished it, he would die, he knew that, all she had to do was say it.
And, in truth, she was right. They were weak against the unbranded, so much of their power was bound into the curse, its application, use and management. They were not battlefield mages and never had been, that wasn’t their role! With less than a fifth of all available Magisters still in the tower, how were they supposed to hold?
Yet all the excuses died on his lips. He couldn’t bring himself to give voice to his true thoughts lest she use it as an excuse to punish him further. Instead, he said the only other thing that came to mind.