“Is swordplay bad? Is singing? Either one can be used for bad purposes. Either one can be used for good purposes.” Arvid said nothing. The Marshal reached out and tapped his hands. “You have killed with those hands, Arvid. And you have saved a paladin with those hands, and saved a child—your son—with those hands. Is the strength and skill of your hands bad, because you used it to steal and kill, or good because you used it to save?”

Awareness of Gird’s presence settled on Arvid’s shoulders like a heavy cloak. “I … don’t … know. I suppose … it’s not the strength of my hands but … how I use them.”

“Exactly. That’s what the Marshal-General is saying about magery, but many people believe it’s evil no matter how it’s used. That’s what you learned, eh? What we’ve learned in the past few years, from Luap’s writings and other writings found in Kolobia, is different from what’s in the current Code of Gird. Gird did not hate magery but cruelty. He knew—at least by the end of his life—that magery could be used for good and that cruelty wasn’t confined to magelords.”

“So … what does magelord magery look like?”

The Marshal gave him a long considering look, then nodded as if he’d seen something in Arvid’s face. “Often the first sign is light—a finger or two giving off light. It’s hot, like fire: a magelord could light a candle or start a fire just by touching it. A paladin’s light has no heat: it gives sight only.”

“Wizards make fire.”

“Yes, but with spells or potions. It’s not the same thing.” The Marshal paused. “I do hope, Arvid, you are not becoming too interested in magery.”

“If you mean do I wish to become a mage, the answer is no. But what you have been teaching me about the Code and what I have seen up the hill, copying texts old and new and listening to the talk about magery … I want to know more about everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. Change is come upon all of us—perhaps I feel it more because mine was so sudden—but if someone does not see the whole whirlwind, how can any of us survive?”

“I don’t know,” the Marshal said. “But perhaps you will find out. Tell me, what do you think of elves?”

Arvid shook his head. “I never knew any, but to recognize them as elves. We had a few part-elf thieves in the Guild, both in Tsaia and over the mountains; no full elves. We knew about the kuaknomi, of course. No one would work with them: can’t trust ’em. Other elves—I saw them on the roads sometimes, or in an inn, but had no reason to speak to them.”

“But you watched them, didn’t you?”

“If I had leisure.”

“And you thought—?”