Free The Gambler's Fortune (Einarinn 3) by Juliet E. McKenna

these generations passed. Truthfully, I saw it with my own eyes, saw them roused.”
    I paused, expecting a scornful response from Sorgrad, but he was looking thoughtful. “So the Archmage woke these people up and now they’ve got their colony back? It still sounds like some bad masquerade. Why are you still bothering with any of this?” he demanded with uncharacteristic sharpness. “You used to keep as far away from magic as you could, same as the rest of us, and from what Halice says these Elietimm have enchantments to turn your hair white! You said yourself you’ve no real idea how it was you managed to withstand them. I know you were blackmailed into that first job for the Archmage, there was no helping that, and as for last year, I suppose you owed Planir something for saving your skin, but I don’t understand why you’re putting your neck in a noose of your own free will again! Is it something to do with this Tormalin swordsman of yours? Charoleia was telling us you’ve been letting him pick your pocket willingly enough.”
    “That tongue’s too long for your teeth, Sorgrad,” I warned him. There are times when the efficiency of Charoleia’s network can be less than welcome and I wondered what else Halice had put in her letter. “I’m working for a Tormalin prince now, not the wizards. Yes, the Elietimm scared the shit out of me and I still wake up sweating at the memory and that’s one reason why I’m heading as far away from the ocean coast as I can. Hear me out. The way Messire sees it, it’s clear these Ice Islanders have had enough of their freezing rocks and are looking for somewhere warm and dry for a change. Planir threw them out of the colony and we found their footprints in Dalasor and Northern Tormalin the year before last—”
    “I’ve heard no word of any such threat,” interrupted Sorgrad skeptically.
    “That’s because Planir and Messire have put their heads together and decided to keep it all quiet until they’ve got some plan in place.” Ryshad and I had argued ourselves breathless over that one, advocating instead the circulation of detailed descriptions of the Elietimm in their distinctive liveries, so that they’d stand out like the stones on a stag hound if they ever tried to make landfall again. I still thought our so-called leaders were wrong. “Sometime soon, the Emperor and his cronies will be facing organized soldiery backed by enchanters who can pull the wits out through someone’s nose from half a league away,” I continued. “My master knows he’ll need magic to fight back.”
    “So what does this prince want you to do?” Sorgrad was still looking as darkly hostile as someone with such a fair complexion could hope to. “Who is he, anyway?”
    “Messire D’Olbriot. You’ve heard of him, surely?” It was a gold Crown certainty that Sorgrad would have heard of arguably the most important noble House of the Tormalin Empire.
    He nodded. “Word is he’s virtually running the court, what with Emperor Tadriol still being so green. What are you doing for him?”
    I held Sorgrad’s gaze with my own. “Messire D’Olbriot wants to understand this old magic, ideally before anyone else thinks to start looking, to know what he might be up against. It gets better. The Archmage wants to learn all about this old magic as well. Artifice, that’s what they’re calling it now, or aetheric magic, take your pick. The point is, the wizards of Hadrumal can’t use this old magic, don’t ask me why. That’s got Planir worried, so he’s doing everything he can to find out what he might be facing.”
    “So your patron, if he has the information the Archmage is so keen on finding, he can trade it for some mages to start throwing fire and lightning at any Ice Islander who wants to come ashore without paying his harbor dues?” Sorgrad was still looking thoughtful but less hostile. “That makes sense.”
    “I knew you’d see it,” I grinned. Messire D’Olbriot hadn’t,