“Councillor Danfey, I did no such thing!” Hahren snapped. “I told her she had no claim for a dispensation, that the College’s decision was final, and instructed her to leave. Instead of obeying me, she threw a tantrum! Said she’d go nowhere without first speaking to the Council of Mages. I told her that was out of the question. That’s when she called me a spruling jigget.”

Venette muffled a snort of laughter. “Indeed. How very provoking.”

“And then, when I ordered her yet again to leave, and still she wouldn’t, I took her by the arm. Just by the arm, mind you, and not roughly. There was no violence about it. Certainly no magic. All I did was try to escort her from the room.”

“She took exception?” said Venette.

“Exception?” Hahren’s chest heaved. “Lady Martain, she hurled me across my own chamber with a repulsion incant!”

Morgan sat back in his chair. “Because you attacked her.”

“How many times must I say it?” said Hahren, close to spluttering. “I did no such thing!”

“Care to explain why you’re defending this unranked upstart, Morgan?” said Sallis Arkley. “Seems to me you should be spitting fire at her temerity.”

Yes. He should be, shouldn’t he? But all he could do was smother the smile that threatened to ruin his Council career. This unranked girl, this Barl Lindin, she of the strong, beautiful face and plain linen tunic and shimmering promise of power, in the Hall of Knowledge itself dared to challenge Lord Voln Hahren.

What an extraordinary young woman.

“I defend nothing and no-one, Lord Arkley. I merely suggest that we give the girl a chance to explain herself.”

“Really, Morgan?” Venette considered him. “What further explanation do we need? This Barl Lindin used magic against a Council-appointed official who was merely doing his duty. A trifle crudely, perhaps, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is—”

“I think, Lady Martain, the point is that she might have thought herself in real danger,” he said, meeting Venette’s unsympathetic stare. “Would you punish her for being afraid? That’s harsh, even for you.”

Lord Varen forestalled Venette’s heated reply with a raised hand. “Hahren, where is Mage Lindin now?”

“Outside this chamber, my lord,” said Hahren, with a jerk of his chin. “Held in close custody and awaiting your pleasure.”

“There’s no pleasure in this,” Shari complained. “I have the megrim. I want my bed.”

“Bring the woman in,” said Varen, ignoring her. “And we shall decide what the consequence of this hubble-bubble shall be.”