Abaddon's Call

Chapter One

Theon sat at his desk, cradling a cup of tea, as he contemplated the follies of man. He wondered if perhaps Elena was correct and man would always bring destruction to himself.

Of course, that had been part of a lecture she gave Theon and her husband after finding them hungover and stinking in the garden shed. At least they had the blessed thought to sleep in the garden shed rather than see their dirty selves back into the estate.

That morning before returning to Amos, Theon had asked Luk to refresh certain commands. He didn't trust himself alone around alcohol or with an object he might use to bring himself harm.

The first visitor of his day was a chosen representative among those studying to be war mages. He was informed that they would be there as Theon commanded. They asked permission to keep their title as students of the magehood. He granted it on an exceptional basis, reserving the right to remove permission whenever one of them annoyed him.

The second knock made him sigh, for his tea had just reached the perfect temperature, warming his hands but cool enough to enjoy. He called out for the person to enter. Lord Lethe, in all his pomp and fancy clothing, opened the door and was about to enter when he was yanked out. Ulert Mot, wearing the markings of war mage of Amos coven, took his place and kicked the door shut behind him.

Ulert Mot was a mage who studied to become a war mage. He spent his years after graduation in the library and among the research centres the Seven had scattered across the lands. He never accepted the title of Amos Scholar, given to those who pursued research as he had, but it had been applied unofficially.

Luk had prepared Theon for the eventuality that the conclave picked someone to sit the coven, even if they hadn't been trained as a war mage. As far as remaining war mages went, Ulert Mot at least might have some understanding of the field, having spent all that research time reading up on their magehood.

"Yes?" he asked, bracing for the snidely worded lecture on his position in the suddenly burgeoning department.

It had been two centuries since the war mage discipline had more than one instructor assigned to it. They were a bickering lot, so Theon fully expected a pissing contest that resulted in him barely managing to keep Ulert from being killed due to the man's sheer stubbornness.

"I'd like you to teach the Balance elective," Ulert said. "How can we make that happen?"

"I haven't a syllabus or schedule."

"Hasn't changed in thirty years," Ulert muttered. "To that end, I'll loan you the copy that Trathor signed off on. Use that until you've had time to review it, but bring the new syllabus to me, not to Trathor. There is one student I wish to execute. For that reason, I will complete his test, not you."

"Would he pass the test?"

"I want it known that anyone not tested by you will not get off easy, so that's not important."

"And that's not what I'm asking you, Ulert," Theon said as he raised his tea, sipping it as he watched Ulert.

The man stared back at him, expression giving nothing away.

"You may test any other student you wish or pass them off to me as you please. Except Naena, the Seven have dictated that Andle test her. It also appears Trild, now sitting as Kaulu representative, has a true-born war mage as a shield. Boy's about Naena's age but truly illiterate. Might we meet for a private dinner tomorrow after classes and compare notes on the students? I would rather encourage those ill-suited to the position to another magehood than have them delivered to you for a test which will, undoubtedly, end in their deaths."