Provided, of course, he could do so without betraying his feelings on the subject. But then again, he had a lot of practice in hiding his feelings. With luck, all that practice would stand him in good stead now.
“The Magi—” Kiron began, in as casual a tone as he could manage.
Toreth was in the middle of turning his egg; Kiron was in the pen with him on the pretense of overseeing him.
“Just what are they, anyway?” he continued, as Toreth finished the quarter turn. “Besides the people who created the Eye, I mean?”
Toreth settled his egg back into the sand, covered all but the very top with hot sand, and gave him an opaque look. “Why are you so curious about the Magi?”
“Because they don’t exist in Tia, and that’s where I lived most of my life,” Kiron replied, trying to look as innocent as possible. “All of the magicians there are in the priesthoods of several temples. Then I come here, and there the Magi are, in their fortress right next to the Great Ones’ Palace, and—” he shrugged. “And there’s the Eye, of course.”
“Oh, yes. The Eye.” The sour tone of Toreth’s voice made Kiron blink. “The Eye—which, as we are told, is our protection. As the Magi have shown us so carefully, it can strike anywhere outside the First Canal, so we need never fear invasion.”
“I must admit, that bothers me,” Kiron replied, feeling his way very slowly. “Isn’t the point to stop invaders at the Seventh Canal? What’s the point of letting everyone know that it can do the same damage closer in?”
Toreth looked at a point over Kiron’s shoulder. Kiron knew what was there—the Central Island. And even if Toreth couldn’t see the Palace and the Tower of Wisdom peeking over the walls because the awnings had been drawn against the rain, they both knew what was there.
“Oh, yes,” Toreth breathed softly. “And my cousins are so dependent on the Magi and their wise counsel—the counsel that has caused us to lose more land to Tia every year. The counsel that tells us to close our doors to outside trade because trade brings change, and the Magi want things in Alta City to remain the same. The Magi, who demand so much, and give so little in return. . . .”
“But the Eye,” Kiron ventured.
Toreth laughed harshly. “They have never used it to defend the city. They have never succeeded in creating a second one. They claim the old one can’t be moved. And yet—” his voice dropped to a growl, “—and yet half the city’s taxes goes into the coffers of the Magi.”
That was a shock. Kiron stared at him, not quite believing what he had just heard. “Surely not—”
“Surely,” Toreth contradicted him. “And whenever someone sues for peace, or an adviser suggests that it might be time for the Magi to have a little less of city’s revenue, the Magi are in the Great Ones’ ears, whispering, reminding them of past wrongs, persuading them of future glory, egging them into a patriotic fever. Oh, yes. I have been there and heard it for myself.”
“But they do work for the good of Alta—” Kiron ventured.
Toreth stood straight up and looked directly into Kiron’s eyes. “Do they? I have seen no evidence of that. These storms they send down into Tia—are they actually weakening the Tian forces? Or are they merely making people miserable and increasing their determination to crush us? Others have suggested that it would be more effective for the Magi to accompany our army—never have I seen a single Magus in the ranks. Oh, the Magi
“Come to Avatre’s pen,” Kiron said, making up his mind on the instant. “I would like to discuss some things with you.”
Toreth smiled. “I rather hoped you would.”
NINE
KIRON
moved the brazier closer to their corner; he did not light a lamp, however. “The Great Ones do not rule in Alta,” said Toreth bluntly, when he and Kiron had settled into the corner of Kiron’s room off Avatre’s pen, a corner where it would not be apparent that the room was even occupied. “The Magi do.”