‘Greetings, cousin,’ said Aric amiably. ‘I trust you are comfortable?’
‘As comfortable as any man sitting in the fortress of his enemy.’
‘Always so suspicious, cousin. You will not die here. Allow me to introduce my friend, Eldicar Manushan.’
The broad-shouldered magicker bowed. ‘A pleasure, my lord.’
‘So far the pleasure is all yours,’ grunted Panagyn, swinging his legs from the table. ‘If you are looking for an alliance with House Rishell, Aric, you can forget it. You were behind the treacherous turncoat Shastar. Had he not switched sides I would have killed Ruall, as I killed his brothers.’
‘Indeed so,’ said Aric. ‘And you are quite right. I did convince Shastar to change sides.’
‘You admit it, you dog!’
‘Yes, I do.’ Aric sat down opposite the astonished man. ‘But all that is in the past. There are far greater prizes in our grasp now. We have battled one another to gain control of larger areas of Kydor. Larger areas of a tiny nation. But suppose for a moment we could conquer the lands of the Chiatze, and the Gothir. And beyond. Drenan, Vagria, Lentria. Suppose that we could be kings of great empires.’
Panagyn chuckled, the sound rich with mockery. ‘Oh, yes, cousin,’ he said. ‘And we could fly over our empires on the backs of winged pigs. I do believe I saw a feathered pig swooping past my window as I arrived.’
‘I don’t blame you for your cynicism, Panagyn,’ said Aric. ‘I will even give you another opportunity for jest. Not only can we rule these empires, but we will never die. We will be immortal like gods.’ He fell silent for a moment, then smiled. ‘You wish to make another jest?’
‘No – but I would appreciate you offering me a taste of the narcotic you have obviously been imbibing.’
Aric laughed. ‘How is your eye?’
‘It hurts, Aric. How do you think it feels? An arrow cut through it, and I had to pluck out both shaft and orb.’
‘Then perhaps a small demonstration would aid our negotiation,’ said Aric. He turned to Eldicar Manushan. The magicker raised his hand. From the tip of his index finger a blue flame leapt into the air, closing in on itself and swirling, like a tiny, glowing ball.
‘What is this?’ asked Panagyn. Suddenly the ball sped across the room, flowing through the silver eye-patch. Panagyn fell back with a groan. He swore loudly and scrabbled for his dagger.
‘No need for that,’ said Eldicar Manushan. ‘Stay calm and wait for the pain to pass. The result will surprise you, my lord. The pain should be receding now. What do you feel?’
‘An itching in the socket,’ muttered Panagyn. ‘It feels like something is lodged there.’
‘As indeed something is,’ said Eldicar. ‘Remove your eye-patch.’ Panagyn did so. The socket had been stitched tight. Eldicar Manushan touched his finger to the sealed lids. The skin peeled back, the muscles of the lids swelling with new life. ‘Open your eye,’ ordered the magicker.
Panagyn obeyed him. ‘Sweet Heaven!’ he whispered. ‘I have my sight. It is a miracle.’
‘No, merely magic,’ said Eldicar, looking at him closely. ‘And I didn’t quite get the colour right. The iris is a deeper blue in your right eye.’
‘Gods, man, I care nothing for the colour,’ said Panagyn. ‘To be free of pain – and to have two good eyes.’ Rising from his chair, he walked to the balcony and stared out over the bay. He swung back to the two men. ‘How have you done this?’
‘It would take rather an age to explain, my lord. But essentially your body regenerated itself. Eyes are really quite simple. Bones take a little more expertise. Had you, for example, lost an arm it would have taken several weeks – and more than two dozen spells – to regrow. Now, if you will, my lord, take a close look at your cousin.’
‘Good to be able to take a close look at anything,’ said Panagyn. ‘What am I looking for?’
‘Does he seem well to you?’
‘You mean apart from dyeing his hair and beard?’
‘It is not dye,’ said Eldicar Manushan. ‘I have given him back some ten years or so. He is now a man in his early thirties, and could remain so for several hundred years. Perhaps more.’