An hour later, Thomas pushed the empty dinnerplate away with a sigh of contentment. Bakklin was still chasing a few peas and slices of carrot with the last slice of beef, mashing it all onto the back of his fork in what appeared to be the Agglemonian fashion, and Matthew and Stone were sipping golden wine from carved crystal goblets such as only nobility could afford in their own time.

The other two tables in the small dining room were empty, the house's other guests having eaten some time ago. A lovely painting of a cherry orchard in full bloom hung on the wall, a real work of art that they'd been surprised to find in such a modest establishment, and the room was lit by the porcelain statuette of a skimpily dressed young woman standing in an alcove. An alcove normally occupied by an oil lamp, as testified by the streak of brown soot running up the wall to form a large patch on the ceiling. The landlady was delighted with it, as well she might be considering the effort it had taken Thomas to cast the spell. Theoretically, it might continue to glow for centuries, while its structure was gradually eroded to feed the spell. It was even possible that a tiny sliver of glowing porcelain might survive to his own time, lost somewhere amidst the monster haunted, weed entangled ruins of the ancient city.

The landlady's daughter glided in to clear away the dishes, smiling invitingly at the wizard as she reached over his shoulder to take his plate, and it was probably just an accident that her soft, fragrant hair fell across his face in a way that might have sent another man's passions racing. Her intentions were plain enough, suggesting that the establishment had a second source of income, and Thomas felt his body responding to the warm glow of her skin, the exotic scent of her perfume. The others all received the same unspoken invitation, however, which took away some of the allure. Also, all four of them were married, although Stone looked for a moment as though this were a minor consideration that could be set aside for the evening.

In the end, though, the young lady had no takers and her disappointment was obvious as she stacked the plates precariously on one bare arm and swayed alluringly out of the room. Thomas watched her as she left, thinking about the life that lay ahead of her. The life that had come to an end a thousand years before he'd been born. Maybe she'd get married, have children, grandchildren. How many descendants might she have left in his own time? Was it possible that he was one of them? The possibility intrigued him. And even if she wasn't his ancestor, there must be ancestors of his living somewhere in the world. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could find them, meet them! Hi, you don't know me, but I'm your descendant from the distant future...

The landlady herself swept in, glancing adoringly at the glowing statuette as she crossed the floor to their table. With wizardry more common in the world in this time, such magical artifacts had to be more common as well, but even so it still had to be rare and precious and would undoubtedly increase the prestige of her establishment enormously. She would probably make a feature of it, advertising the fact that her house was good enough for wizards. She'd be able to raise her prices considerably.

"I hope you enjoyed you meal, my Lord," she beamed happily.

"Indeed we did," declared Matthew, rubbing his stomach with great satisfaction. "Best bit of beef I've had since my last home leave."

She stared at him in horror, glancing fearfully at Thomas to see how he would react, and her fear puzzled them for a moment. Oh, of course! Thomas was the wizard, so he had to be the leader of their party, the others his hired retainers. But Matthew had taken it upon himself to speak first, as though he were the wizard's equal. Would the wizard be angry? What form would that anger be likely to take?

"Yes, indeed," said Thomas hurriedly. "Absolutely delicious. We'll be sure to recommend you to all our friends."

She relaxed, smiling again a little nervously but looking more puzzled than ever. Thomas could imagine her confusion. Who were these people, dressed in the most outrageous costumes and speaking with funny accents? A wizard who acted like a common man, walking the streets when he could be flying or teleporting. Underlings who treated their master as their equal. Thomas decided to engage her in conversation before she became too unnerved.

"You have a lovely city here," he said therefore. "We'd heard of it, of course. The glory of Mala is known in every corner of the Empire, but the reality is even lovelier than we'd expected."

"Very gracious of you to say so, my Lord," said the landlady, doing a little curtsy.

Thomas decided this would be a good time to test their cover story, under circumstances in which there'd be no dire consequences if they slipped up. "We're from Pudalan," he said therefore, watching carefully for her reaction. "We're here to meet a friend of mine in the Tower of Sorcery. It's the first time I've ever been so close to the heart of the Empire."

"Your business is your own, my Lord," said the woman, glancing towards the door as if wondering whether the wizard would be offended if she backed away.

Thomas cursed inwardly. He was making her more nervous, not less. Wizards probably didn't discuss their business with outsiders, he decided. She glanced at the statuette again, as if to convince herself that he really was a wizard, but all of a sudden even that didn't seem enough to still her doubts. Wizards sometimes impressed spells in scrolls and potions, after all, so that any mundane could use them. Was she wondering whether he'd used a scroll without her noticing?

The very idea almost made him burst out in laughter. Any scroll spell, even the very simplest, took days to prepare and consumed rare and expensive ingredients. The idea that he might have expended one just to obtain one night's room and board was ridiculous. She wouldn't know that, though. For all she knew, those who knew where to look might be able to buy them from specialist retailers as if they were clocks and jewellery.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your stay in our city," she said nervously. "Tinna will show you to your rooms when you're ready to retire. If you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you," said Thomas, but the poor woman was already hurrying out the door as if she'd caught them dissecting a chicken on the table. The door slammed behind her, and the four men heard her hurried footsteps pattering down the hall.

"Was it something I said?" the wizard asked in bemusement.

Matthew leaned over and lowered his voice. "I think you need to be a bit less, er, friendly," he advised. "Try to act more like Saturn. That's how wizards act in this time."

"How do you know?" demanded Thomas.

"Germanicus told me, during the march through Fengalla Forest. We were, er," He blushed a little in embarrassment. "We were talking about you. He was saying how wizards like you were a comparatively modern phenomenon, that in ages past they used to go around acting like they ruled the world. Maybe that's what you should do. The way you are now, she can't make you out. It's partly my fault. I shouldn't have spoken up back then. From now on, I'll let you speak first."

"That carriage driver accepted me well enough."

"Well she's different. You've got to be bossier. More prideful and arrogant."

"Even with you?"

"Especially with us! We're your retainers, your bodyguards. You should treat us like dirt."

"I can't do that! It's just not in me!"

"Well, just do the best you can, or else we're going to attract attention everywhere we go." He stood, followed by the two younger soldiers. "Anyway, I'm off to bed. Likely to be a busy day tomorrow."

"Me too," agreed Thomas, also standing, and grimacing as Matthew stood aside to let him leave first. Wizards are just another class of professionals, he thought in annoyance. Plumbers acting like Kings. No wonder the mundanes turned on them. Any plumber who tried to act like a lord to me would soon get a spell up his arse.

Matthew was undoubtedly correct, though, so when Thomas saw the landlady talking to another pair of guests in the common room he strode imperiously up to her, his chin high, and looked down his nose at her. "I wish to retire now," he said stiffly. "Send a cup of hot chocolate to my room in ten minutes. It helps me sleep."

"Of course, my Lord," said the landlady with a deep curtsy, now looking a lot happier as her personal universe settled back into its accustomed, familiar pattern.

Thomas was burning with guilt and self consciousness, though, as he turned his back on her and made for the steps. Ahead of him, out of the landlady's sight, Matthew grinned and gave him the thumbs up. Thomas sighed.

☆☆☆

Thomas never slept well in a strange bed, particularly a bed that didn't have Lirenna in it. He'd gotten so used to her warm, bare body snuggling up against his that it was a long time before he was able to drift away. The hot chocolate helped a little, but he regretted asking for it when the daughter, Tinna, who brought it repeated the offer she'd made at the dinner table, this time with the added incentive of a skimpy dress that showed a lot of bare thigh and bosom.

He dismissed her with an imperious gesture Matthew would have been proud of. He imagined that she would try Matthew next, under instructions from her mother, then Stone and then Bakklin, in search of a night's employment. She was destined for disappointment, though, or at least so Thomas hoped. She would no doubt charge extra for this service, after all, and none of them had anything to pay her with.

He woke several times in the night. He was used to feeling bedsheets against his bare skin, and the unfamiliar feel of his underclothes, which he wore in case of nighttime interruptions, worked against him. Eventually, though, after dreaming of the embryonic reptiles in their glass tanks again, he woke to see warm yellow sunlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains and he rose with a sigh of relief. Crossing to the window, he pulled the curtain aside and gasped in surprise at the sight of the Tower of Sorcery rising above the row of buildings opposite. From his vantage point on the second floor he could plainly see the path they would have to take to reach it. A little further down the road, turn right, turn right again... No more than a ten minute walk! They could have gotten there last night if it hadn't been too dark to see!

He chuckled to himself as he pulled the bell cord to inform the landlady that he was up, and a couple of minutes later there was a knock on the door, which opened a moment later to admit a young woman. Not Tinna this time but a girl who looked enough like her that she might have been her sister. She kept her eyes firmly on the floor as she crossed the room, her frail body trembling nervously. She placed a bowl of hot, soapy water on the dressing table, placed a flannel and a towel next to it.

"Are you okay?" asked Thomas gently. Tinna hadn't been scared of him. This girl must have had some kind of bad experience at the hands of a wizard. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

She just trembled harder, though, as she stood there, waiting to see whether he would have further need of her, until the wizard gestured for her to leave, whereupon she almost fled the room before the dreadful wizard could put a spell on her.

Thomas cursed under his breath as the door slammed behind her. Did the wizards of this age think it was clever to be able to terrify young girls? Were they blind to the inevitable consequences? If the fears and grievances of the people he'd met so far were typical of the population as a whole, then it would only take one tiny spark to trigger the Massacre of the Mages right now!

He washed and dressed quickly, anxious to get away from there. Collecting his belongings, he left the room and hurried down to the common room, where several conversations stopped instantly. None of his companions had risen yet, but several of the other guests had, all waiting for their breakfasts, and they all stared silently at him as he hesitated in the doorway. He almost fled back to his room, overwhelmed by the mingled curiosity, hostility and fear he felt directed at him, but he had an uncomfortable suspicion that things could get a lot worse if they sensed weakness in him. He remembered from his history lessons that there had been isolated lynchings of lone wizards for centuries before the massacre broke out in earnest, whenever a crowd of angry citizens found an opportunity to vent some of their long pent up anger. Matthew was right, he realised. Far better for him to act tough.

Gathering his nerve, therefore, he entered the room fully and sat down in an empty chair separated a little from the room's other occupants. Most of the other guests relaxed immediately. He presumably wouldn't have sat if he was planning to turn them all into frogs. A couple of hesitant conversations started up again, the participants occasionally turning a nervous eye in his direction. To relax them further, he pulled his travelling spellbook out of a pocket and began to read.

One of the other guests held his attention, though. A young man in his late teens sitting opposite a young woman. His girlfriend by the look of her. He'd been as scared as any of the others when Thomas had entered, but now he was looking ashamed and angry and Thomas's nerves jangled with alarm. A look of determination appeared on his face. His girlfriend saw it and shook her head in alarm, her eyes widening with fear. Listen to her, Thomas silently begged. Please listen to her!

The young man turned in his chair to glare at the Wizard, who stared back, desperately hoping the young man would be too intimidated to try anything. The young man's eyes widened for a moment, but then he glanced back at the girl. Their eyes met, she shook her head again, but it just made the determination return to the young man's face. To Thomas's dismay, the girl's face lit up with hesitant admiration.

The young man turned back to Thomas. "So you're a wizard," he said. "You don't look much."

Thomas knew that he was in trouble. "Yes I'm a wizard," he said, trying to keep his face steady. Any show of weakness now would be disastrous, but maybe he could defuse the situation. He ventured a friendly smile but it just made the young man angrier. The other conversations in the room stopped again and the guests began fidgeting anxiously.

"I suppose you think you're better than us," spat the young man viciously. His face was pale with fear, but genuine anger was beginning to rise within him. His girlfriend tugged frantically on his arm but he just shook her off.

Thomas felt the words of defensive spells crowding into the forefront of his mind of their own volition and he forced them back again. His body was full of magic again, but if he was forced to cast a spell, even in self defence, he would be making things ten times worse for himself.

"No, I don't think that," he said, keeping his voice calm. "I'm just a man, just like you. I was born, I need to eat and drink. One day I will grow old and die..." He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words were out of his mouth and fear clutched at his heart with a fist of ice.

"Oh, so you're not one of the immortal ones then." The young man rose from his chair, his hands clenched into tight fists. "Not yet, anyway, but maybe one day, eh? Good, decent folk like us grow old and die, but you just go on and on. You think that's fair? Eh? Do you?"

Every instinct screamed at Thomas to stand and defend himself. It took a real effort of will to remain seated, to try to appear harmless. He had no way of knowing how it really made him look. Aloof and indifferent. Confident and secure in his power. Some of the other guests were hurrying towards the door, while the others simply sat, hypnotised with morbid fascination. What would the wizard do to the brave but foolish youngster?

"I have no wish to become immortal, even if the opportunity presented itself," Thomas added. "I am content to die when my time comes, to leave my wife and son to make a new life without me."

He hoped that the mention of his family would make the other guests see him as an ordinary man, no different from them. Maybe it did to some of them, but apparently not the young man. "Your time might come a lot sooner than you think," he spat. "You've got a lesson coming, you and your kind. You're gonna be put in your place!"

"I know," said the wizard sadly. "I know."

The answer seemed to confuse the young man, because the fight abruptly went out of him and he backed away to his own chair, still glaring but now with an element of doubt and uncertainty. His girlfriend grabbed his arm again and beamed adoringly up at him. "Oh Joss! You were wonderful!"

Matthew and the two junior soldiers chose that moment to enter the room. Better late than never, the wizard thought ruefully. He jumped out of his chair and steered them back out into the corridor. "Come on, we're leaving."

"But we haven't eaten yet!" protested Matthew in confusion. "What's the hurry?"

Thomas jabbed a thumb back at the common room. "They don't like wizards. I almost got caught up in a fist fight. If we hang around much longer, we could end up starting a riot."

Bakklin and Stone looked distraught. They had clearly been looking forward to a breakfast as hot and filling as last night's dinner had been, and Thomas was upset by the turn of circumstances himself. "Trust me," he said to Matthew imploringly. "We have to go. Now."

Matthew nodded. "Has anyone left anything in their rooms?" They all shook their heads. "Let's go then. Maybe we'll find something to eat in the tower." They followed the corridor to the front door, slipped quietly through it and out into the street.

They passed the alley they'd wandered into the night before. In the daylight it seemed harmless, just a narrow passage between buildings littered with junk and rubbish, but thirty feet along it a pair of large rats were lapping at a pool of dark liquid. Blood. Someone must have died there the night before. They paused for a moment, thanking the Gods for the stroke of good luck that had brought them back to a big street, then hurried on.