The road lead directly to the palace in the centre of the city, perched on top of the hill, but Gal-Gowan took a more roundabout route. It took them through the most densely populated regions of the city, where cheering crowds thronged to greet them every step of the way as if he was leading a parade. It was as if it had all been planned weeks beforehand, and Tak even saw street vendors pushing their way through the throng selling pies, pastries and sweetmeats, taking the opportunity to make a profit from the occasion. Everyone had flags and were waving them with an almost desperate enthusiasm while Gal-Gowan basked and preened himself, truly the red wizard, back in his own element.

     He beckoned for Tak to bring his horse up and ride alongside him, making sure the crowd saw that he was a VIP as well, and soon the astonished young man found that he was being cheered as well, the crowd deciding to play it safe. Some were even shouting his name, agents of Khalkedon carefully placed in the crowd, and before long his name was ringing through the packed streets just as loudly as the red wizard's.

     Tak forgot that the crowd's jubilation was false. The atmosphere generated was intoxicating and Tak was completely overwhelmed by it. Before long he was shouting his delight and gratitude and waving at everyone he saw as if he was returning from a great victory. As if he'd just saved the city from some terrible fate. He had no sense at all of the carefully laid trap into which he was being led. Only in later years did he imagine the conversation Khalkedon must have had with Gal Gowan before the apprentice had left the city to fetch him. Give him a taste of celebrity, the wizard King had probably said. "Let him grow to enjoy it. Very soon he won't be able to live without it, and then he'll be ours." In later years, the older Tak had shaken his head at how completely he'd been fooled.

     Eventually they came to the palace and the gilded gates opened wide to let them pass. The guards saluted Tak and Gal-Gowan, paying them equal respect as they'd been ordered, and a splendidly dressed groom with a troop of assistants arrived to take charge of the horses as they dismounted. Their escort went off to the barracks in another part of the city and the two wizards were met by a houseman, dressed similarly to Trobo but much smarter and gaudier. He led them in through the King's doors which, Gal-Gowan explained in case Tak didn't know, which he didn't, were used only by the most important of visitors. Neighbouring Kings, for instance.

     Tak's head, already dangerously light from the welcome he'd received, swelled even further. "You will be one of the elite," Gal-Gowan explained as splendidly dressed servants followed them along the gloriously decorated corridor. "One of the King's most valuable and trusted servants. Once you've made your place at his side you'll be able to ask for anything. Anything at all." Tak could only gape at him, completely lost for words.

     The red wizard then left him, though, saying he had important business elsewhere. "Bagglo here will take care of you," he said, and then he was gone. Tak stared after him, unsure of himself in these strange surroundings, but the houseman cleared his throat to attract his attention.

     "You are weary from your long journey," he said soberly. "Please allow me to show you to your room."

     Tak nodded, feeling lost and scared, and the houseman led him away down an impossibly long corridor.

     There were three maids waiting for him in his room. Young and beautiful. Even in his present condition it was immediately obvious to Tak that they'd been chosen for this duty because for their outstanding physical attributes, shown off to good effect by their skimpy, tight fitting uniforms. Khalkedon was really pushing the boat out for him.

     They curtsied as he hesitated in the doorway, at a loss to know what he was supposed to do in a situation like this, but fortunately the maids didn't wait.

     "Welcome, master," said one of them, evidently the senior of the three. "My name is Teena and this is Wenda and Clara. We have been instructed to see to all your needs during your stay here."

     "Your bath has been prepared," added Clara, indicating the doorway to another room. "If you will follow us..."

     They guided him into the bathroom where, to his delight, they undressed him and themselves and got into the huge bath with him, where they scrubbed and washed every part of his body. Tak thought he was dreaming. This cannot be happening, he told himself blissfully. It was obvious from their seductive manner that he was going to be spending the night with one of them, or even all three!

     Gods! he cried mentally. This is fantastic! And to think he'd been looking forward to having the bed to himself! He lay back in the water and gave himself over completely to the attentions of the three beautiful women.

☆☆☆

     Lirenna examined her husband carefully. "Exactly how detailed are these memories of yours?" she demanded suspiciously.

     Thomas laughed. "You wouldn't believe how standards of beauty have changed over three thousand years," he said. "They were indeed beautiful by the standards of the time, but if they were to pop up now most people would find them rather plump and heavy. Men liked their women with a bit of meat on their bones back then. Tell you what, read my mind and I'll try to visualise them for you."

     He called up an image in his mind of the three maids as Tak had known them at their seductive best, and a moment later Lirenna chuckled in amusement and relief. "I see what you mean," she said. "They wouldn't win any prizes today, would they?"

     "Neither would any of our most beautiful women if they were transported back to that time," agreed Thomas. "Not even Tassley. She can start a riot here simply by fluttering her eyelashes, but back then she'd have been too thin to be attractive. Most men wouldn't have looked twice at her."

     "What about me?" demanded Lirenna, watching him carefully. "Would I be thought beautiful back then?"

     "You're not human," replied Thomas. "Not fully, anyway. You rise above human standards of beauty. You'd be a stunner in whatever age or era you found yourself in."

     The demi shae blushed prettily with pleasure. "Okay," she said. "You can leave out the night's activities, I don't want to know. What happened the next morning?"

     Thomas thought for a moment before replying. "They treated him like a King all day. Servants to see to his merest whim. Every luxury he could imagine, and Teena, Wenda and Clara always nearby. Always finding some excuse for seductive, physical contact. Manicuring his nails, with barely covered breasts thrust close to his face. Cutting his long and rather untidy hair. Brushing stray hairs from his face with soft, caressing fingers. Measuring him for a new set of clothes which, of course, required him to undress again.

     He was so drunk with luxury and passion that the true purpose of all this never occurred to him. He just assumed that this was the kind of lifestyle he could expect when he took his place as one of Khalkedon's wizards. It never occurred to him to wonder why, if that was the case, Molos Gomm didn't share that lifestyle. Why did he live all alone in a draughty old castle if he could have lived like this?”

☆☆☆

     At midday, dressed in his splendid new clothes like a visiting prince, Tak was summoned to a huge banquet and sat down at a table piled high with exotic delicacies from all over the known world. Gal-Gowan was there, at one end of the table, looking like a King in his gown of red and silver, and as Tak entered he rose to greet him and indicated the seat at the other end of the table. Tak sat on the high backed, padded chair and servants began piling his plate high with food, most of which was so unlike anything else he'd ever eaten that he'd never have guessed it was edible otherwise.

     There were a number of other people present, most of them already tucking in with gusto. Noblemen and the heads of important families, their wives and eldest children. They looked up at him curiously, and one or two of them smiled welcomingly before dismissing him and returning to their food.

     One person in particular caught his attention, though. A young man sitting a couple of seats away, dressed in a simple white robe much like the one he wore at Castle Nagra. The ginger haired youth glanced at him uncertainly, then hastily averted his light brown eyes. His fingers, Tak saw, were long and slender like those of a surgeon or a pianist. Or a wizard. His hands, red raw from heavy scrubbing, still bore the stain of some indelible liquid, just like his own after a heavy day mixing and preparing potions.

     Tak's heart thumped with excitement. A wizard! Or an apprentice at least. Gal-Gowan's apprentice? It had to be! Tak longed to talk to him, find out more about him, but that would have meant talking across the man sitting between them who looked, from his fearsome red face, as though he wouldn't take such a discourtesy lightly. Tak had to content himself with smiling reassuringly at the young man the next time their eyes met, therefore, but he promised himself that he'd find him and talk to him before he went home.

     Instead he found himself talking to the man on his other side; a military man whose uniform bore a bewildering variety of medals and ribbons. "So you're Gomm's apprentice, are you?" he said around a mouthful of red meat. Juice ran down his chin and he wiped it away with his sleeve. "Good man, old Gomm. Good fighter. Told you about his victories, has he?"

     "No," replied Tak, fascinated by the way his moustache waggled as he chewed. "He never talks about it."

     "Not surprised. Not surprised at all. Very personal business, war. Not hungry, lad?" He gestured at the wizard's plate with a fork bearing a rubbery tentacle that had been cooked in a sauce of octopus ink and salmon milk.

     Tak obediently picked up something that looked as though it might once have been a fruit of some kind, although he tried not to look too closely at what it was stuffed with. He popped it into his mouth and almost choked on the burning hot spices, making the soldier laugh, spraying chewed bits of food across the table.

     "So, what part of this old world do you come from?" he asked when Tak had recovered.

     "The Borderlands," Tak replied, wondering how far away he was from the land of his birth. "The plains of Wessom. We had a farm."

     "A farmer!" spluttered the soldier, almost choking in his turn. "A damned sodbuster! Well, you must be bloody glad old Gomm took you away from all that, what?"

     "It certainly changed my life," said Tak truthfully. "Can you tell me one thing, though? I know almost nothing of the wider world, I don't even know what King rules the plains of Wessom. Is it part of the domain of Khalkedon?"

     "Of course it is, lad! Of course it is! Right out in the sticks, of course, but part of his realm nevertheless. Don't you worry, lad. You're a Domandrian by birth, just like the rest of us. Best in the world!"

     Of course it's part of his territory, Tak realised. Molos Gomm had been with a troop of soldiers the first time he'd seen him, so he had to have been in friendly territory. Which meant his father had also served Khalkedon. The thought made him feel a little closer to home and powerful feelings of nostalgia began to steal over him. Memories of his life before Molos Gomm returned with a clarity he hadn't known for many years and he felt a sudden longing to return to that simple life and the comforting, protective love of his parents.

     The meal lasted for almost an hour, and from overheard comments he gathered that an even more sumptuous feast was planned for that evening. He hoped there would be something resembling normal food somewhere on the table. Despite the quantity of food available to him, he'd only been able to bring himself to eat the equivalent of a light snack.

     As everyone rose from the table Tak tried to corner the red headed apprentice but was intercepted by Gal-Gowan. "Khalkedon will see you now," he said. "Do you know how to behave in front of a King?"

     "No," admitted Tak, his heart fluttering with fear. "I'll just try to be polite. Will that be alright?"

     "Polite is good," agreed the red wizard, "but the most important thing is not to speak unless you're spoken to. If you please him, you have a golden future ahead of you. If you displease him, you will die."

     Tak gulped nervously. Gal-Gowan examined him for a few moments longer, assessing his suitability to be presented to his King, then nodded. "Take a few minutes to wipe the grease from your hands and sort your clothes out. Then I'll take you."

     "Was that your apprentice I saw at the table?" Tak asked later as he was led down a long corridor along which armed guards stood, eyeing them suspiciously as they passed.

     "Yes," replied Gal-Gowan. "His name is Barl Hobson. A year or so younger than you, but talented like few others. You won't see much of him, though..."

☆☆☆

     Thomas paused, looking uncertain, and Lirenna leaned closer. "What is it?" she asked. "Tom?"

     "Barl Hobson," said Thomas slowly. "That name... Gal-Gowan was wrong. I saw a great deal of him in later years. We grew to be great friends, and more than friends. I can't quite remember yet, but... Barl Hobson. Yes." He strained his memory, trying to coax it out from its hiding place, but it wasn't ready "It'll come," he said eventually. "It'll come when it's ready to."

     There was excitement in his voice, though. He could already sense that Tak's meeting with Gal-Gowan's apprentice was one of the most important events in Tak's life, and something that would have profound implications for his own life as well.

☆☆☆

     In the imaging chamber, Jasper turned to Garnet and smiled broadly. "Lord Ruby will be delighted," he said. "The Host has finally remembered meeting him.