“I don’t know why I came this way,” Diana continued. “it just seemed right. My Lady was guiding me. When I saw the trogs recruiting people in a town we were passing through I just knew that you’d also be signed up by them. And sure enough, here you are!” She frowned a little and hung her head. “I was surprised and relieved to see you. Relieved. I’d been beginning to doubt the truth of the dream. All my brothers’ scepticism must have been getting to me. I must make penance for my lack of faith.”

     “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” replied the wizard. “Your must have ordinary dreams like everyone else. Even old, experienced priests must mistake dreams for visitations sometimes, and vice versa.”

     “Not if their faith is strong enough,” replied the cleric. “Mine is not.” She fell silent, and Thomas struggled to find something to say. “Caroli would not have accepted you if She doubted your faith,” he said at last. “Your may doubt yourself, but you must not doubt Her.” Diana nodded at that and looked happier.

     "Enough about me," she said at last. "Tell me what it's like being a wizard. Is it true what they say about the test?"

 
     "That depends on what they say about the test," said Thomas, smiling in puzzlement.

     "Why, that you have to prove your competence by undergoing some terrible, grueling ordeal that leaves many of you mentally or physically scarred for life, and that all those who fail are killed. They say that it's little more than torture, designed to prevent too many from prying into their secrets, and to deter those who're not totally committed to it."

     Thomas laughed. "I can guess who spread those kind of rumours around. People like Mikos the Magnificent, I expect. The University's never been like that." He went on to tell her the truth about the test, and about life in the University in general. Diana listened in fascination. "That's the complete opposite of everything I've ever heard about universities of magic,” she said. “Why do wizards like Mikos tell such terrible lies about it?"

     "I dunno," said Thomas. "Perhaps they believe it. Maybe they're just repeating what they've heard from other people. Or maybe it's jealousy. After all, University wizards have all kinds of advantages over other wizards. The best teachers in the world, access to thousands of years of accumulated wisdom, the prospect of further education including spells invented by old Lexandrians that aren't shared with outsiders, and so on. I suppose that an externum, denied all these advantages, might belittle them whenever the subject comes up in conversation, and might even exaggerate or invent the bad side of life there."

     "Then why not open up the gates to them and show them what it's really like? Share your advantages with them, teach them all your secret spells, let them into the library. Maybe then they won't be so resentful."

     Thomas shook his head. "It's not as simple as that. Most of the wizards in the world are sloppy amateurs who get themselves killed in all kinds of nasty ways, but not before teaching a couple of apprentices to make all the same mistakes. Give them access to all the treasures in the University, and the result would be disastrous. The only way to change things is to teach as many young people as possible to do it the right way, and then send them out into the world to show, by example, how it should be done. By the time anyone gets to Mikos’s age, they're too set in their ways to change. All the education in the world wouldn't do any good."

     "If you say so," said Diana, doubtfully. "Anyway, tell me more. I want to know all about life in Lexandria. Tell me about that school outing to the plane of elemental air you mentioned. It sounds absolutely fascinating!"

     "It was," said Thomas, and they chatted away for the rest of the evening, while the yellow sun sank into the west and the red sun rose, casting its ruddy, crimson glow over the mountains, making them look as if they were soaked in blood. Few people enjoyed the sight, and so a man came in to close the shutters across the windows and light oil lamps.

     The six new friends took it as a sign that it was time to retire to their rooms and escape from the faintly hostile atmosphere being generated by the trogs (The three other swordsmen had already gone, having set off in search of whatever nightlife the town had to offer). Three rooms had been reserved for them, and they divided themselves between them. The two brothers shared one room, Thomas shared one with Jerry, and Lirenna shared the third with Diana. The two women were still chatting animatedly as they closed the door behind them, and the men could imagine the girl talk going on well into the small hours of the morning.

     "So, what do you think of our new friends?" Thomas asked Jerry as soon as they'd closed their own door between themselves and the rest of the world. He sat down on one of the two beds, bouncing on it to test its springiness.

     "They seem okay," replied the tiny nome. "At least they seem to know the area a little better than we do."

     "What do you think of her 'holy mission'?"

     Jerry sighed thoughtfully. "Well, we know that the Gods do do such things. If she really is a genuine cleric, we daren't ignore the possibility."

     Thomas nodded gratefully. "You also think she's a bit young to be real? I was afraid I was judging her unfairly. After all, it does happen. You hear about people even younger than her being chosen by a deity, given powers and responsibilities years beyond them."

     "If she's a genuine cleric, she'll be capable of channeling the power of Caroli, of healing. We'll find out the first time one of us is hurt. Of course, even if she is a real cleric, that won't mean she's on a real holy mission. She still might be deluding herself, as her brothers think." A suddenly serious look came across his rosy, cheerful face. "Suppose she's right. Suppose the Goddess Caroli really has chosen us for some great purpose. What would our options be in that case?"

     Thomas nodded, suddenly looking scared. "Holy missions rarely involve flower arranging. As I understand it, they usually involve battling evil, risking life and limb in terrible struggles against desperate odds, not at all the kind of lifestyle I'd envisaged for myself. Can we refuse? Tell Caroli to get lost?"

     Jerry laughed. "Theoretically, yes, and spend the rest of our lives hoping we never suffer any crippling or life threatening injury. You don't say no to Gods. Besides, if She's made up Her mind that we're to play bodyguard to this girl, She'll find some way to rope us in. If we don't go on the mission, the mission will come to us. That's the way They do things. We'll be off somewhere, minding our own businesses, when suddenly..." He waved his hand, miming a great wind sweeping in to carry them off like leaves.

     Thomas nodded soberly. "Chances are her brothers are right, she's off on a flight of fancy. Gods, I hope so! But she's really convinced, and you saw how she was! If no mission reveals itself, she's going to keep following us around until it does! We might never get rid of her!" Then he smiled. "Mind you, she's not bad looking. Having her around wouldn't be such a hardship. Maybe we'll figure out a way to get rid of her brothers..."

     Jerry laughed again. "I dunno, I prefer them a bit shorter and tubbier. Look, she'll come to her senses and go back home. Her brothers'll talk some sense into her. She has no idea what real adventure's like..."

     "Neither do we," said Thomas with a smile.

     Jerry ignored him. "When she gets her first look at a goblin, when she sees someone killed in battle for the first time, all these romantic notions of holy missions will go right out of her head. She'll go running back home so fast it'll make her head spin."

     Thomas nodded, a little sadly. He remembered her bright eyes, her overwhelming enthusiasm. A love of life that had infected all of them in just the few moments they'd known her. He thought of Diana running back home in fear and defeat, to be greeted by her parents whose forgiveness and understanding would make her feel even worse, even smaller, even more foolish. The poor girl would be living in purest misery for weeks afterwards, however long it took her to live it down. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said with a strange feeling of regret. "Time will tell."
     "Time will tell," agreed Jerry, and the two of them fell into a thoughtful silence as they prepared for bed.

☆☆☆

     When morning came, Shaun and Matthew were the first up, dashing downstairs for a hearty breakfast, while the three wizards studied their spellbooks and the cleric prayed and meditated. By the time they came down everyone else had finished eating, with the exception of Mikos the Magnificent who, having many more spells than the other wizards, was still upstairs studying them. He had ordered breakfast in bed, and so wouldn't be appearing until they were ready to leave, which suited the others just fine.

     As the yellow sun rose, everyone gathered in the street outside the inn. The eight humans, the demi shae, the nome and the twenty trogs. Unlike the others, the trogs, none of whom stood over five feet tall but all barrel chested and powerfully muscled, were all dressed in battle uniform, with leather vests partially hidden beneath overcoat of dark blue goats hair. They also wore long horned helms of real steel with crests of bright red horsehair and tough leather boots. On top of it all they wore long, silvery grey cloaks bearing the badger and mole emblem of the Underberg clan.

     They all had long trophy cords hanging from their helmets, pleated and coloured in ways that no doubt spoke volumes about their past exploits and achievements. They each carried a scimitar and short sword, except two who carried warhammers, and Thomas noticed that these two also wore a curious circle of sheet metal around their necks on a length of chain, on which was engraved a series of numbers and symbols. They were whispering to each other and scribbling rapidly on little notebooks with stubby pencils, occasionally cursing and scrubbing out a page, only to start again on the next.

     He asked Diana. "Who are those two over there?"

     She studied them for a while. "They look like priests of Caratheodory, God of Mathematics,” she said. “That disc of metal around their necks looks like a description Father Bryon gave me of their holy symbol. He told me how to recognise priests of all kinds of different faiths."

     "Why do you think they're here?" asked Thomas.

     She shrugged. "Probably no particular reason. They're probably just related to some of the others."

     Thomas nodded and casually made his way closer to them in an attempt to overhear what they were talking about. He heard one of them say "Yes, of course, if we set x equal to zero, it follows that sigma cubed must be a positive whole integer, thereby satisfying Gaddrick's postulate, but I think you're overlooking the minor roots of equation three hundred and forty nine, in which omega squared by log(e) is defined in terms of theta, and which..." Thomas shook his head in bewilderment and backed away.

     Shale appeared then, riding up on his mountain pony. "Everybody ready?" he asked. "Good. Make your way to the stables and get saddled up. We leave in five minutes." He came over to the three wizards. "Are you armed?" he asked.

     "You mean with swords or something?" said Thomas. "No, we've got no time to study weaponry. We need to spend too much time reading and studying."

     "You can use knives, can't you?" said the trog. "You just hold them and stab."

     Lirenna went pale and looked away. "Yes, but we haven't got any," said Thomas.

     "Well, have these then," he said, handing them three wicked looking, ten inch knives. The three wizards stared in astonishment. They had thin grooves in the blade, probably to hold poison, and the end of the hilt unscrewed to reveal a small sharpening stone, a compass, and a needle and thread. It was the material from which they were made that grabbed their attention, though, and made them glance at each other in disbelief. Steel! Real steel! Sharpened to a murderous edge and gleaming wickedly in the light of the two suns. The three human mercenaries stared at them in open envy.

     "Just on loan, for the duration if this mission,” said the trog. “Don't think we make a habit of giving away this kind of wealth. I'll be wanting them back when it’s over.”

     Thomas and Jerry accepted one each with shaking hands, plus a sheath to wear on their belts. They stared in wonder at the bluish silver gleam of the perfect metal, and Thomas tested the edge with his thumb. He stared, wide eyed, at the thin line of blood that appeared there. He hadn't even felt it cutting him!

     Lirenna refused hers, though. "I can't carry a weapon," she said, staring at the offered knife as if it were a viper. "I'd never be able to bring myself to use it."

     "Anyone riding with me carries a weapon," insisted Shale. "Take it or go home."

     "Take it, Lenny," urged Thomas. "You don't have to use it as a weapon. Knives are useful for all kinds of things. And don't forget that buglins and goblins are not nice people. You may need it in self defence."

     After more urging from him and Jerry, she reluctantly accepted it and strapped it around her waist. It looked out of place against the soft woodland greens and browns of her clothing, and she was visibly uncomfortable as she followed the others to the stables, its weight against her thigh a constant reminder of its presence. Jerry had his out and was examining it critically. It looked like a sword in his small hands.

     "I can only guess what this is worth," he said. "I’m guessing it was made by the trogs themselves. Not folded, cast in pretty much its present shape and then hammered and sharpened. You can only do that with the very finest steel. The only thing I don't like is the poison groove. Civilized people don't use poison."

     "We don't have to use poison," pointed out Thomas, and the nome nodded, continuing to stare at it. “And let's keep them out of sight at much as possible. Even among the other members of this expedition, it might prove to be just a little too much of a temptation. I'd prefer ironwood blades, really. Less chance someone might try to kill us just to steal them.” Jerry nodded soberly and slipped it into its sheath.

     They rode out as soon as everyone was mounted up, and half the population of the small town was lined up in the streets to watch them go, a few of them waving flags and shouting words of encouragement, this being the biggest thing to happen in Clarrin's Claim for years. The three grizzled mercenaries waved back, blowing kisses to some of the more attractive young ladies, and then they rode ahead to scout the way while Mikos accepted the adulation like a King amongst his people, his chest puffed out with pride.

     The trogs rode in formation two abreast, staring firmly ahead with solid military discipline while the others, the three younger wizards, the cleric and her two brothers, followed behind, grinning like idiots as the townspeople waved and wished them luck. A pretty young woman came running up beside Shaun and tied a ribbon to his saddle, then ran back to her giggling friends who'd dared her to do it. Shaun eyed her appreciatively and wondered whether they'd be coming back this way. Then they were out of town. They followed the main road at first, but left it after a couple of miles, turning north to take a much narrower path towards the mountains.