Binding the sorcerer's apprentice in hemmolite cord that resists magic, the same cord woven into the under fibers of his own armor, Ascarn returned to his yunche lizard mount and rode hard through the night.
Arriving back at his palace, he dumped the apprentice unceremoniously at the foot of his throne, where Phanavaom sat impassively.
Removing the tome from his satchel, he placed it in the Lord Marshall's lap. "I've done what you asked." He said in his deadpan voice.
"Release my wayward apprentice." Phanavaom replied.
Ascarn bent and untied the knots. Adyma looked hate at the black knight, rubbing his wrists as he rose and then bowed to his master.
"A fine chase, apprentice. Your initiative pleases me. Consider your capture the penance for your truancy."
Adyma smoldered. "Yes, master." Was all he replied, in a voice devoid of humility.
Phanavaom rose. "I will be in the tower, I have much perusal to be about."