Time of Trial by Michael Pryor Page A

quashed the disquiet, nodding. ‘All right, Kiefer. I’ll help.’

Seven
    The next morning at Maidstone was Aubrey's alone. After the incident at the Istros Coffee House the day before, von Stralick had claimed he had business to attend to. Caroline had gone home after making Aubrey vow that he would pursue this course of action. The proprietor of the café had glowered at them, only partly mollified by the cash von Stralick had tendered as they left. The arrival of black-uniformed Magisterium operatives had taken the sheen off the payment.
    Aubrey had hesitated before contacting the Magisterium, but finally decided it was necessary. What were they going to do with a magical copper construct otherwise?
    Rising early, George had accepted a lift from Sir Darius into the city. He had an errand to run for his father, investigating some new sort of agricultural machinery. He was excited about it, and Aubrey was pleased. Someone had to be excited about agricultural machinery.
    This gave him some time, a valuable commodity in the world of Aubrey Fitzwilliam. He spent some of it working through his notes on the ancient tablet and script found in their underground adventures a few months ago, the tablet which had hinted that it was a cousin to the famous Rashid Stone.
    The knottiness of trying to translate the mysterious ancient script absorbed him utterly. The world went away, time became irrelevant as he grappled with the arcane language, sifting for meaning, consulting old books of similar inscriptions. He’d had an inkling for some time, but as he worked he became more and more certain that tablet dealt with fundamentals of magic.
    He wished that Professor Mansfield, his lecturer in Ancient Languages, would return from her sojourn in Aigyptos, but since he and his mother had played a considerable part in her secret mission to return the Rashid Stone to the Sultan of Memphis, the stone’s rightful owner, he couldn’t feel too affronted at her absence. He’d been corresponding with her, but the delay in the post made any serious discussion difficult.
    Until she returned, he was on his own. So he surrounded himself with the best reference books and applied himself to the ongoing task of trying to decipher the mysterious script he’d found.
    Research was, as usual, a seductive trap. He found himself following pathways and suggestions quite aside from his quest for decipherment. A hint about burial practices sent him reaching for a text on Etruscan rituals and he spent a good hour fascinated by these pre-Roman people.
    Eventually, poring over details of urns and interment became mind-numbing. He stretched and decided he needed a break from the intensity of his research. He pushed back from the table then went to the safe which he’d had installed near one of his desks. It had been an item of some curiosity when he requested it, but he reassured his parents that it was necessary – and that he would share the combination with them.
    At the back of the safe, past the collection of gold sovereigns and the gold tie pin given to him by his mother, he found the black velvet bag he’d been looking for. He straightened, shut the safe and tipped the contents of the bag into his palm.
    The baroque beauty of the Tremaine pearl glowed softly and Aubrey remembered wresting it from the top of Dr Tremaine’s cane. The ex-Sorcerer Royal had been furious, for the pearl had been given to him by his sister, and was his most precious keepsake.
    Aubrey weighed in his hand. He’d always felt that pearls were warmer than other gems.
    It was small, but could it be the way to stop a horrible war?
    Aubrey was a student of history. He knew that wars were rarely caused by simple events. They were complex, chaotic affairs and were most often caused by the interplay of many, many incidents, some trivial, some significant, some outrageous. Economics, trade, deep-seated jealousies, misunderstandings, famines,