Enchanter (Book 7) Read Online Free Page A

“I’ve arranged for Arborn to be offered the position of Ducal Master of Forests,” I revealed.  “He would have charge over all the wilderness of northern Alshar.  Including Bransei Mountain and the other Kasari groves.”
    That was a powerful inducement, I knew.  The Kasari tribes had been defiantly resisting Narasi control since the early settlement period, and most of the remaining Wilderlords near them had cultivated an active hatred of the “rebels” and “tribals” of the great redwood forests.  To suddenly have a Kasari in charge over those same lords was a remarkably tempting thing for Pentandra.  She had undergone the Kasari rites and adopted some of the Kasari ways when she had married Arborn.  And she had grown to love his culture this summer as we’d escorted two thousand of his kinsmen across two duchies.
    “I . . . let me think about it,” she said.  “I have to talk it over with . . . my husband.”
    There was a stillness in the air as she made the pronouncement.  I don’t know exactly how, but there was a subtle shift in Pentandra after that, a greater sense of depth to her than I’d known before.  It was remarkable.  And not a little unnerving. 
    Time to change the subject.
    “Do you want to go look at this thing that grew in my cellar over the summer?” I asked, casually.  “It’s kind of pretty.”
     
    Chapter Two
     
    The Magic Fair
     
    Postulus
     
    “The fundamental goal of enchantment is to root the effects of a magical spell to reside within a physical object to improve its utility.  It is among the greatest achievements of thaumaturgical skill to accomplish even the most elementary of enchantments.  Once constructed and understood, the art of the enchanter can only improve with practice and repetition.”
     
    The Florilegum of Basic Thaumaturgy
     
     
    I had the good fortune to be under house arrest just in time for the fourth-annual Sevendor Magic Fair, just days after the morning I fired Pentandra. Banamor had done an outstanding job of keeping the lucrative spectacle operating.  At this point, you would think that he would have it down to an art, but the problem was it just kept getting bigger.
     
    The participating merchants streamed into the domain for weeks, and more arrived every day.  Sevendor Town swelled with the excess, and the surrounding estates were putting up folk at a bounty. Southridge Manor and Jurlor’s Hold both added additional accommodations to rent out for the occasion.  Jurlor built himself a grand new hall, into which he moved most of his large family so that he could rent out his old hall at premium rates.  He made even more money with the livery stable he built on property he held just outside of the town’s limits.
     
    My brother-in-law was doing even better at Southridge. His estate had been capitalizing on the growing fair every year, and there were now guest cottages and additional halls available for those who could afford such quarters.  To his credit, he and my sister-in-law had done what they could to ensure their guests were exceptionally well-fed and entertained.  The view was magnificent, with pristine Sevendor Castle on the left, Sevendor Town sprawled out below, and the eerily beautiful white spire of Laesgathel jutting serenely from the top of Matten’s Helm.  Southridge was where many of the independent High Magi and magelords stayed during the fair.
     
    But most of the common vendors who had trekked for miles filled the three inns in town to capacity, while others rented spaces for tents or booths and slept there.  A few were lucky enough to rent tiny cottages that sprung up near the fairgrounds, on land that had once been owned by the extinct village of Genly.  Banamor struck a deal with someone over it, I was sure, but I didn’t mind too much.  We needed someplace for the important middle-class of wizard to stay, I suppose.
     
    I insisted on a tour of the grounds two days before the official opening.