Chương 28

"Pause, Mallow." Escort Mallow felt an old tingle as he pulled on the reins. He stared expressionlessly up at the sky as the carriage creaked and grumbled to a halt. They were at the base of Peakhold's ridge, an official delegation of three, not including the score of servants. The guards dismounted and unhitched the horses. The chef and the scout exchanged a glance and crept back toward the latter half of the carriage train. The carriage door had been carved into a gold-and-obsidian seven-pointed star.

The door swung open.

"What is this?" The squat Outer Maester squinted around his bulbous nose up at the ridge. Mallow didn't even blink. As much as possible, he needed to be featureless, part of the environment. He would recognize that tone anywhere- the Maester had blame to give.

"Yes, Maester Oswald?" Mallow had been escorting Maesters for fourteen years. During that time, he had escorted Outer Maester Oswald three times. So he learned the hard way to avoid the significant ire of the man's temper. First, drop 'Outer' Maester as much as possible. It is technically grounds for chastisement not to use the proper nomenclature, but reminders of his junior status don't earn affection. Second, curiosity is not rewarded. Did you not understand the Maester's question?

Do not venture a guess; insight is impudence and a wild guess is disrespect. Third, as much as possible, allow the Maester to take the initiative.

"The ridge up there." The Maester waved a hand that glistened with golden rings.

"Indeed, Maester." Mallow agreed.

"Exactly! Those flags-- that's the Imperial Sanctum. Why wasn't I informed?!" Ah. Mallow thought.

"Tch. Make a note of this. Obviously, regulations in such a distant Hold have not been followed." The Outer Maester shook his head.

"Well, what can you expect? The nearest Maester is days away. Without guidance, children will stray. It is inevitable."

"It is inevitable," Mallow echoed. With one last snort, the Maester turned around and went back into the carriage. The servants stood around and looked at each other. Mallow considered the sharp and steep switchbacks of the ridge. He recalled one previous escort when Oswald had decided to ride on horseback on a lark, fallen off, and had whipped the caravan's servants for 'failure to properly clear the road'.

"Time for lunch," Mallow announced. The chef and the horse wrangler exchanged glances. They were old hands at dealing with a Maester's moods and instantly understood. Oswald poked his head out of the carriage once more.

"I suppose, with the rigors of the road, a meal is appropriate. Someone fetch my chair!" The chef wrapped an arm around his apprentice's shoulders.

"Find a location, bring wood, and start the fire. If you do, I can arrange for a great honor to go to you: bringing a Maester his meal…" Mallow looked at the sky. It was easier to pretend ignorance of the ways of the world when you didn't look Just before the apprentice took the food to a grumbling Maester, Mallow approached.

"Please also inform the Maester that, due to the steepness of the slope, we will need to proceed on foot." The apprentice nodded, his eyes bright. The servants gathered and watched impassively as the Maester plucked a flaming log from the fire, which the apprentice had gathered, and smashed him three times with it.

"You arrogant lout! You dare order a Maester around?! I'll- gah!" Outer Maester Oswald dropped the log, clutching his hand; the heat had burned him. His beady eyes were hateful.

"You… you… Mallow!"

"Of course, Maester."

"Hmph," Oswald crossed his arms. Mallow felt a flicker of unease; he would need to guess at the Maester's intent. But he marshalled himself.

"For your impudence and disrespect, you've been stripped of your role as apprentice. Because this is your first infraction-" Mallow suppressed an urge to check on Oswald's reaction and pushed forward.

"-an official judgment will not be filed against you. But you will not be able to return with us. I recommend you find new employment." This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The servants unpacked the carriages; most of the supplies would be hauled up on their backs. A pitiful duo of fresh guards was selected to camp out down here, watching over the carriages until the business in Peakhold was resolved.

Mallow heard the chef speaking to the sobbing apprentice in quiet tones, recommending he head to the Hold and apply to be in next season's crop of levies. As the Outer Maester waddled up the slope, he fixed Mallow with a dissatisfied look.

"Too merciful, Mallow. Too merciful. That's why you might be fit for escorting, but never for wielding the scales of justice! Without an official judgment, what happens if some other fool hires that impudent boy? Bah, well. You are just an escort. It matters not…

"This damn slope- who would construct a hold in such a place? And the Imperials, are they looking down on us?

"This is an outrage." By the time the group made it up the switchbacks to the top of the ridge, Oswald was a sweaty, red-faced gremlin. If anything, the silence from the Outer Maester was even more ominous than his curses. Mallow kept his eyes on the sky. This is the way of the world. Someone has to suffer. Why should it be me?

Administrator Ranya came down from her office to the gates in a timely manner to welcome the Maester. Conduits noted her presence. Rumors spread like wildfire-- soon a crowd had gathered. Most of the Conduits in Peakhold were drawn from local villages. They had never been to a true city, never seen a genuine Maester. So Administrator Ranya felt a bit of pride in hosting this event. Even if there is a conspiracy afoot, Ranya thought.

Just this morning, she received word from Balkan; they had caught the Silver Imperial Conduit. It seemed that Margary's story had merit. Yet for some reason, Ranya found herself waiting for an hour in the hot sun, with the 'imminent' Maester still nowhere in sight.

"Did something happen with the delegation?" She asked a guard. The guard climbed a wall and shaded her vision with a hand, peering down the ridge.

"They are coming. Just quiet slowly. Soon." Ranya felt helpless; she was already down here. She couldn't leave and come back, could she? Luckily, it only took fifteen more minutes for the delegation to arrive. Even as she opened her mouth to invite the Maester back to her office to recover, the Maester gritted his teeth and spat to the side.

"This cursed Peakhold. In the middle of nowhere- hahhhh, hahhh, this isn't an assignment, it's a punishment." Fifty Conduits stood quietly to the side, staring at the Maester. Administrator Ranya kept a smile on her face. She was used to the fickle whims of Maesters.

"Greetings, Outer Maester Oswald. I am-""You…" The Maester's eyes swiveled to Ranya, bubbling with hostility. Ranya blinked in surprise.

"Perhaps then, after we proceed to my office, we can discuss." Ranya continued.

"Now, if you please, Outer Maester-""If I have to linger near this latrine for even an hour longer, I will be tainted by its stink," The Maester snapped.

"I am here to dispense justice, am I not? You might not believe it is so in this backwater, but in the fine places of the Kingdom, justice waits for no one. Bring the accused; we will carry out the trial immediately."

"That-" Ranya blanched. She hesitated. With so many individuals watching, she didn't want to give the full story.

"T-that seems inappropriate. Come, if we discuss-""You uppity fool." The Maester drew himself up to his full height, slightly less than Ranya. He leaned back so he could look down his fat nose at her.

"You would presume to lecture me on my role? Your job, Administrator, is to corral the uneducated and dangerous Conduits, to prevent them from flaunting the Kingdom's laws. You are a glorified babysitter." Ranya opened her mouth. But before she could speak, the Maester sneered.

"If your next words aren't total agreement, I will have you stripped of your position and flogged in front of everyone present. Is that what you want?" Ranya's teeth clicked shut. Almost immediately, Maylor Balkan materialized next to her. The slight man just looked at the Outer Maester, but the other man flinched a step backward. It was not a small thing to experience the ire of a Tier IV Conduit. And as an Outer Maester, Oswald did not have an Archetype to blunt the ferocity aimed at him.

"Mallow." The Outer Maester snapped. A grey-haired escort walked forward.

"I was thinking the same thing, Maester."

"Hmph." The Outer Maester spat one more glare at Ranya before walking past her and Maylor Balkan. They strode confidently forward, moving with purpose. Ranya wondered where they were going: they were heading toward the Healer's Quarter. Good, perhaps Healer Michaels' presence- Ugh, that sour man will only antagonize him further, Ranya pursed her lips.

"Quickly, Administrator." The Maester mockingly enunciated every syllable. The man spared a nervous glance for Maylor before calling over his shoulder.

"Bring your accused. Otherwise, it is well within my power to cast judgment in absentia." The crowd parted in front of the Outer Maester to allow him to pass. The rest of the caravan dropped crates to the ground and panted, wiping sweat from their foreheads. Perhaps the reason for the slow ascent was that all the supplies had to be carried up; no one had thought to bring sufficient saddlebags.

"We will need lodging." A servant said to Ranya. He hesitated.

"Probably."

"That fool." Ranya hissed. Then she hurried back to her headquarters. At least if she passed the report to the Maester when she brought Margery, the situation could still be salvaged.