Rhiann said, “May I enter?”
From within an elderly man’s voice cracked, “The hour is late. Return on the morrow.”
Rhiann’s spirits dropped. Another voice said, “The city is abuzz, Kurth. It might be important.”
The door opened. An elderly, unkempt Caye Klarje looked at the young man on her door stoop.
Rhiann said, “Hello, Mother.”
Caye Klarje coldly said, “This is a cruel hoax. You are a minion of Bailiwick, and you mock my son all the way down to his birthmark! Have not my mate and I adhered to every request of Lord Bailiwick, Castellan Yerko, and the Council of Thynna?”
Rhiann said, “Mother, it’s me. May I enter?”
Caye answered monotonically, “We cannot refuse entry to agents of the Council of Thynna. It’s part of our clemency deal. So enter, finish your tormenting, and be gone.”
Sorcerers and more guards rushed past. Caye and Kurth’s neighbor said as he ran by, “Someone opened the gate.”
Rhiann crossed the threshold. Clutter and decline marred the once immaculately maintained home. Rhiann stepped over old clothing and entered the sitting room. Kurth Marsh sat in his overstuffed chair and stared blankly at the wall. The elderly sorcerer scarcely acknowledged Rhiann’s entering the room.
Rhiann said, “Father, are you well?”
Kurth looked up at the new arrival and said, “Rhiann left long ago. It strains my memory to recall his appearance, but you look remarkably like him. The birthmark is particularly accurate. Now you’ve effectively brought back painful memories to my mate… and to me. Tell Lord Bailiwick he has succeeded.”
Caye entered and curtly said, “I suppose we’ll be accused of opening the gate. Tell High Sorcerer Bailiwick that I haven’t uttered a spell in centuries. Magick is as dead to me as my son. Kurth and I have been here all night.”
benjamintowe 