Teaser

A little teaser of the current Chapter One of my as-yet unnamed novel...

As they sat, snippets of conversations reached Phoenix’s keenly honed ears. Nearby, a group of four Healers were speaking of remedies for a disease that lurked in the lower towns; three young Warriors discussed defensive techniques; and…
“….another one…”
“…a young girl this time…”
“…Guard don’t know what’s happening…”
“…serial killings…”
Phoenix centred her hearing in on this conversation, held between many magicians, of all robe colours. Background noise in the room compromised the amount that Phoenix could hear; small, disjointed fragments of sentences or gasps of shock or fear.
Her concentration broke as the door to the room opened and silence fell. The High Lord Oregon walked in, accompanied by friend and colleague Administrator Marren. They entered together, heading straight for the two chairs that were, unofficially, theirs. As soon as they were seated, they were surrounded by the present Higher Magicians, magicians in several Colleges, all bearing the white sash symbolising their position.
Talk resumed, though without the previous zealousness. It seemed the entire room was very conscious of the High Lord’s presence. However, this did not stop the talk of the murders beginning again. Groups that had disbanded now regrouped, restarting their discussions swiftly and quietly, as if sharing secrets like excited novices.
Oregon was obscured from Phoenix’s eyes, shielded by the robed figures surrounding him. They also spoke in low tones, anxious for their conversation to remain private. Unable to hear what they were saying, Phoenix glanced sideways at Velir. His eyes were almost closed now, back less tense, posture more slumped. Phoenix couldn’t deny, at moments like these, that the man looked old. He had few lines in his face, but his many years were apparent still; in the tiredness of skin, the darkening eyelids, the thinning figure. A slight frown creased her forehead as she observed him dozing, then the frown deepened as she focussed in on the magicians surrounding the High Lord:
“…the Guild cannot be seen to be doing nothing! Faith will be lost in us!” Head of Warriors Eron murmured aggressively; he was known for his fiery temper and incessant stubbornness. The High Lord’s young, authoritative voice answered the magician coolly, his words fluid as water:
“What would you have me do, lord Warrior?” In her experience, Phoenix knew youthful, powerful men to be arrogant and rude, but if anything, Oregon was quite the opposite. He treated his social inferiors well, offering help and advice when sought. Phoenix admired his calm, collected manner, his mysterious behaviour, his respect for all. Presently, however, what she envied most was the level-headed way in which he answered the Warrior.
“Send out patrols of magicians! Ask the King to set a curfew on the city! Read the minds of everyone who is even the vaguest bit connected-!”
“And rob the privacy of every single Camardian?! Magic can only go so far, Eron, and abusing the power we all encompass is a crime within itself.”
The Warrior’s breathing was deliberately slow, as if he was trying to keep his temper under control. He nodded to the black-clad magician stiffly, then turned and left, walking tensely to the door and exiting. Oregon watched him with cold, icy blue eyes. To his left, the Administrator coughed quietly, drawing the attention of his fellows. The High Lord’s gaze flickered but did not move. Another quiet cough. Again his gaze flickered, and then it switched to the Administrator’s face.