The Mhorgain section of the city was all but humming with activity as they walked in, and Verdan quickly realised what was happening as he saw a few tired Thearns heading off to rest.

  “They’re back!” Verdan fought down the urge to run forward and constrained himself to a fast walk. As they drew close to the building that usually held Sinead and Dirk, Verdan called out to one of the shieldguards on duty. “Where are they?”

  “Upstairs, Wizard,” the woman said with a respectful nod as she pushed the door open. “The Keeper said for you to head straight in.”

  Verdan’s brows shot up, but he said nothing as he stepped inside and made for the stairs. The shieldguard on duty was one of the newcomers if Verdan was right, and she was already acknowledging Sinead as a Keeper. That boded well for their plans to introduce Sigil weaponry.

  That was a thought for another day, though. Right now, they had to focus on the ingredients Natalia needed.

  Following the sound of voices, Verdan opened the door to see Magnus, Dirk, Baird and Bastian huddled over one of the well-worn maps that they had. Sinead stood a little to the side, watching and listening rather than participating directly. Benlen stood by her side, favouring his right side a little.

  Beyond them all stood an old, heavily scarred man in thick furs, a pair of burly Kranjir shieldguards stood by his side. Surprisingly, both the shieldguards wore metal armour and carried beautifully crafted shields, with swords belted at their hips. The emblem on their shields was of a white fist atop a blue ship, not one that he recognised. Dried blood still speckled their shields, and their armour was damaged in places.

  A new Clan then? If so, why were they here, and who had they fought? The Darjee?

  “Master?” Dirk looked up to see Verdan and quickly rushed over to clasp his arm in greeting. “I’m sorry for not seeking you out straight away, but things have been busy here.”

  “So I can see,” Verdan said, his gaze flicking to the impassive man in the furs. “What exactly has happened?”

  “Where to start.” Dirk laughed, running a hand through his hair. A hand that bore freshly healed scars, Verdan noted. Seeing his expression, Dirk nodded to Bastian. “A useful man to know.”

  The Cleric chuckled and shook his head. “Your Apprentice has the skill, but he needs to temper his natural instinct to charge in. He needs more time working on his technique as well.”

  Benlen coughed slightly, giving Dirk a pointed look that made the young Wizard flush and nod. “Alright, I might have been spending too much time on my Wizardry and not enough on my fighting. We’ll work on it.”

  “Without neglecting your use of Aether, I trust?” Verdan affected a frown that made Dirk squirm uncomfortably and promise that he’d practice both. Biting his cheek to hold in a laugh, Verdan turned to Magnus and gave him a look over. There were a few healed injuries, but he seemed to have come through the experience in good shape. Given Magnus’s tendency to finish fights bleeding from a dozen wounds, this was a marked improvement. “And you, Magnus?”

  “The Wizard acquitted himself admirably,” Baird said, hesitating only slightly over the term of address. “Your constructs were impressive as well, not to mention the allies you called in.”

  “The Vespa, you mean?” Verdan asked, meeting Baird’s gaze with a hint of challenge. His goodwill and patience had been strained to breaking point over the last few days, and while the shieldguard commander might be uncomfortable about their new allies, he’d just have to deal with it.

  To his credit, Baird didn’t turn away, instead nodding. “Just so. Being unable to communicate with them was a challenge, but it was with their aid that we found Keeper Norstan.”

  Verdan’s eyes widened as the old man nodded and let out a soft laugh. “Indeed, my guards were moments away from forcing me to retreat when we realised that the Vespa weren’t attacking.”

  The Keeper’s voice was melodious but thin with age. It rang with the diminished power of someone who had once been a true warrior though, Verdan could hear it and see it in the way the Keeper stood.

  “The language barrier is something we shall address as soon as possible, I think,” Verdan said, restraining the urge to sigh at yet another job being added to the list. “I’m pleased that it all went well though. Were you able to rescue all the refugees?”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Not all of them, no,” Magnus said, his face falling as his hands curled into fists. “The Darjee were from two different camps. From what the Keeper had said, the first found their trail and hounded them, while the second was drawn in during the fighting.”

  “That is my belief, yes,” Keeper Norstan said in a soft voice that somehow carried to the whole room. “I led my escort in a rearguard action to hold the Darjee off, but that meant that when the second group came, there was no one to stop them. We then tried to get to them, but the first group got past and struck at the survivors.”

  “It’s no wonder that the refugees who made it here assumed that the Keeper had fallen when the Darjee struck,” Magnus said, rubbing at a chip in his wooden hand. “We managed to track down one of the groups, meeting with the Keeper in the process. The Vespa couldn’t find the other though, so we came back.”

  “Do not take the blame onto yourself, young Wizard,” the Keeper said with a slight shake of his head. “The failure is more mine than yours.”

  The two guards flanking the old Keeper stirred and looked displeased with his statement, but they said nothing.

  “I have no wish to be rude, but can I ask which Clan you are from, Keeper?” Verdan spoke up into the tense silence that had settled over the room, trying to move them on to happier topics.

  “I am of Clan Gallowan,” Norstan said, a slight smile touching his face. “Until recently, I was stationed in Glarn by my Clan to authorise new trade with Clan Thrain. I was there when your warning came to Clan Menteith of the threat to my people. I sent it on, and once my duties were done, was sent here to see things for myself.”

  Sinead cleared her throat and gave Verdan a meaningful look. “Keeper Norstan is well respected amongst the Clans and has personally given me confirmation of rank. I am Keeper Taggstar now.”

  “Congratulations,” Verdan said, pleased for her and intrigued by the possibilities of what this meant for all of them. “Clan Mhorgain is truly in resurgence, then.”

  “It is.” Dirk grinned wildly, uncaring of the quelling look that Benlen gave him.

  Verdan’s mind went back to their discussions about Sinead becoming a Keeper and he frowned in thought. “Will that be enough, though?”

  “What do you mean?” Sinead asked.

  “Is one Keeper confirming you enough to make it official?”

  “Perhaps not with anyone else, but Keeper Norstan is special,” Sinead said, shaking her head. “No one will go against him for this. Not without good reason, anyway.”

  The two of them shared a silent look, and Verdan found himself wondering if his involvement would be enough of a reason. He couldn’t exactly ask that right now, though. He wasn’t sure what about Keeper Norstan was enough to give that level of approval either, but then they had said that he was known and respected throughout the Clans.

  The Keeper must have seen his confusion as he walked forwards, skirting the group at the table to hold a hand out to Verdan. The Wizard took it hesitantly, surprised by how firm the old man’s grip was.

  “Perhaps I should introduce myself properly,” Keeper Norstan said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I am Selk Norstan, Keeper of the Gallowan Clan and Cleric of Govannon.”

  Something hidden within the Keeper’s furs gleamed golden with Exeon, the thick layers not quite enough to hide it.

  “Well, yes, that would explain it,” Verdan said in a dry voice as he schooled his reaction as best he could.

  “Hah, not even wide eyes,” Keeper Norstan said, shaking his head. “Your apprentices both looked like they were going to pass out when they realised who I was and who I serve.”

  “I have a touch more experience with Clerics than they do,” Verdan said, laughing inwardly at how much of an understatement that was. He might not have interacted with them much growing up in the Imperium, but every city had held multiple Clerics of each of the major gods. If anything, he was still getting used to how few were around in the modern age.

  “So Govannon has said to me,” the Keeper said, his rheumy eyes peering at Verdan knowingly in a way that quashed his amusement. “He also mentioned that you might be coming across some inconvenient traditions in how we do things. Respected as I am, not even I could make my people abandon their traditions easily. What I can do though, is give you and the new Keeper a chance to prove that things should be changed.”

  “I think I understand, thank you,” Verdan said, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend the full implication of that statement. Govannon had sent one of his few Clerics to them, and to give what was essentially his approval for their ideas with Sigil weapons. That implied a level of attention to them that made Verdan a little uncomfortable.

  The gods weren’t all-knowing, but he wasn’t too surprised that Govannon knew of their plans. After all, there were several Kranjir involved, and they tended to invoke their patron god on a regular basis.

  Still, Verdan couldn’t get past the amount of attention being placed on him, and on the city as a whole. It wasn’t just Govannon, after all. Gwyll and Rharth had their fingers on the scale, with Bastian acting as their agent.

  Verdan hesitated before meeting the Keeper’s gaze and voicing his concern in a soft voice. “Are things truly so bad?”

  The Keeper frowned, seemingly unsure of what Verdan was saying. Bastian understood though and caught Verdan’s eye with a lift of his chin. “There are other options, but they are few and unlikely to go far. If we can succeed here, we must.”

  “Succeed at what?” Dirk asked, looking over at the Cleric with a frown. “Rebuilding the Clan?”

  “In a way,” Keeper Norstan said, having realised what Verdan had meant. Turning from Dirk to Magnus, the old Kranjir bowed slightly. “Thank you again for your aid, young Wizard. My people only survived thanks to your help. I will take my rest now, and return tomorrow to discuss what comes next.”

  That said, the Keeper motioned to the two shieldguards and left the room.