The Crimson Gold

by Voronica Whitney-Robinson

  “Hmm,” Naglatha murmured and appeared somewhat mollified by Tazi’s quick answer. “Be careful, though. We’ve come too far now to tip our hand prematurely.”

  Tazi shifted uncomfortably at Naglatha’s use of the word “we.” She didn’t like to think that the Red Wizard believed they were anything other than unwilling partners, each with a different desire and goal.

  At that moment, Naglatha managed to tear herself away from the mirror to actually look Tazi in the eye. It was not lost on her that the wizard didn’t give the bearded dwarf a second glance. “I have to admit, I appreciate your initiative.” Naglatha gave Tazi a measured smile.

  “You saw an opportunity to get a feel for the place and gather information. So you took it. Those are the kind of qualities I look for in a useful spy, you know,” she told Tazi and swiveled back and forth on the padded stool slowly.

  “In fact, those are the kinds of skills I like to cultivate in potential associates. You never know,” she said slyly, “you might have a future in this sort of thing. I was only a little younger than you when I started,” she added, casting an appraising eye on Tazi. “If you carry this off like I expect you will, you should think carefully about your next step.” Then those same obsidian eyes froze over.

  “Step out of here again without my express directive, however, and you won’t be taking another step ever again. Do I make myself clear to you both?” she asked and took in the dwarf as well with her threatening glare.

  “Understood,” Tazi agreed.

  The dwarf grunted.

  “Good,” Naglatha replied and rose gracefully to her feet. “Tonight, the two of you will accompany me to the evening meal.”

  “As what?” the dwarf demanded.

  Naglatha continued to look only at Tazi as if she couldn’t be bothered to lower her gaze for Justikar. “Because it suits me for people to think Milos and Heraclos are other than they are, you will act as my personal bodyguard for the duration of our stay.

  “I expect that you will act accordingly. I was going to have you change your attire to match mine more closely,” she told them, “but I think I will leave you as you are, presuming, of course, you both clean up.”

  “Of course, right away,” Tazi replied sarcastically, though Naglatha did not seem to notice.

  “You two will more than likely cause a bit of talk, and I rather like the idea of being the center of attention for the evening.” She brushed past them, only pausing by the door.

  “And sometimes,” she added thoughtfully, “the best place to hide a secret is out in the open.”

  After Naglatha left, Tazi turned to the dwarf and said, “This should be interesting.”

  On the way to dinner, Tazi once again had the opportunity to marvel at the construction of the Citadel. She marched down a corridor a few hundred feet long that was devoid of any decoration except for the imposing figures of armor displayed in niches every ten feet on either side of her. Some of the plate mail and designs Tazi was familiar with, but others were completely unrecognizable to her and bordered on the fantastic. Suits stood anywhere from three to ten feet tall, and some of the weapons were so exotic, with blades curving and twisting in every direction, Tazi wondered where on Toril they would have come from. The duergar was even more enamored than she was, and she could tell he was just as eager as she to touch some of the metalwork. A sharp word from Naglatha stopped them both, though.

  “Don’t,” she ordered. So they walked by, and Tazi knew the dwarf would have given much to study the pieces longer.

  The passageway emptied into another, large chamber. Tazi found herself in a huge banquet hall that far surpassed any she had visited in Selgaunt, and she had been to more than a few in her time. The entire room, with its soaring ceilings, was lit by torchlight and candles. There was even a very large, elaborate chandelier suspended twenty feet above the table. Tazi didn’t envy the slave who had to maintain those candles up so high. Tazi wondered why they didn’t use spells and thought perhaps, in a country where sorcery was so very commonplace, that would have simply been too gauche.

  In the center of the room was a long banquet table, with a glossy, lacquered finish. It was set with the finest place settings and silver cutlery Tazi had ever seen. Several vases of flowers and greenery dotted the table as if to make up for the fact that there was no view in the entire chamber. But, Tazi thought, their perfume seemed oddly out of place. They were almost sickly sweet, and she wondered if the smell was meant to disguise something else. Thick-cut crystal goblets winked in the firelight, creating a warm, friendly scene. Tazi recognized that the table was staged thusly for effect only.

  As she and Justikar flanked Naglatha, it was only when the wizard turned to them with a frown did Tazi realize she was put out. When Tazi surveyed the room and saw no one else had entered, she speculated she knew why the woman was mad. She had made a point of being late so as to be “fashionable,” as she put it, and now to Naglatha’s obvious disappointment, most everyone else had decided to be fashionable as well.

  “Where are they?” Naglatha whispered, displeasure evident in her tone.

  Tazi wasn’t sure what to tell her, but then she heard the sound of voices coming from a different passageway nearby.

  “I think they’re here now,” she said quietly.

  “Well,” Naglatha told her, “if I can’t be last then I may as well be the first. Follow me.” And she led the way into the chamber.

  Tazi and Justikar trailed behind as Naglatha strode into the chamber and selected a seat in the middle of the table, opposite what was obviously a seat of honor and could only have been meant for the Zulkir of Necromancy. Tazi was uncertain if, as a bodyguard, she was supposed to pull out Naglatha’s chair, but the wizard saved Tazi from the potential gaffe by seating herself.

  “You may sit to my right,” she informed the duergar and she added to Tazi, “and you may sit on my left.”

  “Shouldn’t we remain standing?” Tazi asked.

  “It isn’t unheard of to have one’s bodyguards close at hand at these events,” she explained quietly.

  The other zulkirs and tharchions slowly filed in and made their seating selections seemingly at random. But Tazi knew there was far more going on below the surface. The process, she thought to herself, was a strange dance of positioning, and she wondered if they really thought they were fooling anyone with the act. She also noticed that many had one or two servants with them and, as Naglatha had said, they had one or both join them at the table.

  “The woman to your left is Zulkir Zaphyll,” Naglatha whispered to Tazi and nodded toward a bald woman with steel blue eyes.

  “She looks like she’s even younger than you,” Tazi commented, not realizing the unintended insult to Naglatha’s vanity.

  “Well,” Naglatha replied in a huff, “do you see that gaudy amulet she’s fiddling with? Tear that from her scrawny neck, and she’d look her true age: a doddering seventy or so.”

  “She hides it well,” Tazi replied.

  “The tall zulkir sitting beside her is Lallara Mediocros. They are the best of friends these days and allied with Szass Tam. If I can turn either one of them,” Naglatha explained, “the other will surely turn as well.

  “The men over toward the far right end of the table are also loosely allied. The older man with the gray hair is Zulkir Nevron. He and I have had some interesting conversations,” Naglatha told Tazi, and Tazi briefly wondered if the two had been close. “He has an extensive collection of demon spells. And the blond man next to him is—”

  “He is Zulkir Lauzoril,” Tazi finished for her, recalling the female servants’ earlier comments about the handsome man.

  The black-eyed wizard gave Tazi a beaming smile. “You have been listening,” she said with obvious admiration. Tazi simply tipped her head in the acknowledgement of her skills.

  Naglatha pointed out a few others to Tazi, and the thief made a few mental notes for herself. Then a black-haired, brown-eyed woman that Naglatha ad
dressed as Thessaloni drew the wizard into a conversation about some of the ships in her navy, so Tazi continued to simply watch and listen to those around her.

  “I’ve increased the number of darkenbeasts in my stables to nearly one thousand,” bragged a bald man who Tazi did not know. Like most in attendance, he had various tattoos across his smooth pate. But Tazi was familiar with the monstrous creatures he was referring to.

  Part bat, part prehistoric bird, Tazi had fought such a creature not long before her father died. Tazi shuddered inwardly at the thought that the man possessed so many of the creatures, and she fervently wished he was exaggerating for appearances sake.

  “For myself,” the vigorous woman to his left replied, “I prefer the Blooded Ones. Much easier to control.”

  “But, Azhir,” he responded, “how can you afford them? They’re terribly overpriced. Or have you and Szass Tam come to a new arrangement?”

  Before the woman could respond, the room began to shake slightly. Everyone grew silent. The plates and goblets rattled, and the chandelier above swayed from side to side. The tremor did not last long, but Tazi could see concern on more than one zulkir’s face. Tazi had felt a few minor quakes since they had entered the Thaymount region, but she had written them off as natural occurrences. Judging by the expressions of the Red Wizards all around her, she reconsidered her earlier appraisal.

  It took a few moments for the conversations to resume after the tremor tapered off, and when they did, they were more muted. The banter that had been more verbal fencing than anything else stopped.

  Tazi looked at the two spaces that were directly opposite Naglatha. They remained empty, and Tazi assumed the one in the middle was meant for Szass Tam. She didn’t know who they other one was for, but supposed it must be someone closely linked to the necromancer. Tazi noticed more than one wizard glance at the vacant seats and whisper to their dinner companion.

  A sudden hush fell over the room like a pall, and all eyes turned toward the main passageway of the banquet hall. A tall, handsome man with black hair and a matching beard walked determinedly into the chamber, rightfully commanding everyone’s attention. He alone did not wear the red insignia cloak of a Red Wizard. All of the others had dressed in varying degrees of opulence and ornamentation, but they had all worn the cloak that denoted their station. Not this man. He set himself apart.

  As he pulled out the center chair and seated himself with unconscious regality, he looked steadily at Tazi for a long moment. She met his black gaze without blinking and felt a charismatic pull. His cheeks had a hint of color that was lacking on so many of the sallow faces she had seen in Thay. It gave him the appearance of ruddy, good health. She had to remind herself that this was a lich, and what she was seeing was surely the work of some illusory spell. Even still, she felt drawn to him, mostly because he cast an aura of self-possession and certainty that Tazi had envied in other people all her life. Her passion was to feel that comfortable in her own skin, and it was a quality she constantly fought for.

  “Naglatha,” his deep voice broke the silence, “I must compliment you.”

  “And why is that, Szass Tam?” she asked demurely.

  “Out of everyone in attendance tonight,” he explained, “you have, by far, brought the most interesting decorations to the table.” His gaze flickered over the duergar as well, Tazi noticed, and he seemed to recognize the dwarf.

  “I thought you’d be pleased,” she replied, and Tazi could see Naglatha glow with the necromancer’s attentions. Tazi herself bridled with anger at the idea of being classified as decorative.

  Turning his attention to take in the whole room, the lich began, “I am so very pleased that all of you were able to find the time to come here. I am truly surprised that you could, given the relatively short notice and your full schedules,” he added, and Tazi knew that no one in the room would have dared to miss it.

  A few of the wizards made pointed glances to the vacant chair to Tam’s right. The lich noted where their eyes lingered.

  “Unfortunately, Tharchion Pyras Autorian is unable to attend tonight’s festivities. He has had a fresh spate of maladies and most recently has been suffering from terrible headaches,” Szass Tam explained to the gathered wizards, forced to address their looks. A very low murmur could be heard.

  “I suspect that like you,” he continued easily, “many of the recent events have been weighing on him and have taken their toll. He is still rather young and hasn’t your stamina or vast experience with such issues. But, he has assured me he will be able to attend tomorrow’s council.”

  “And what is it exactly,” Zulkir Lauzoril asked, “that we are to discuss tomorrow?” He cocked an eyebrow at the lich, and Tazi could see Szass Tam did not like to be interrupted. She sensed Lauzoril knew that particular fact quite well.

  “I do not want to speak too much of it tonight, since dear Pyras is absent. But I feel it is important that we discuss some of the more pressing issues of late.”

  “Such as the increased volcanic activity in the area?” demanded one of the wizards.

  “That would be one of the more important points, Tharchion Dimon,” the necromancer agreed, “as well as the state of our current economy and the success of the Enclaves as well as our continued support of them.”

  At this point, he stopped and slowly looked at each of his guests. “I want to make sure we are all in agreement over these things.” Tazi couldn’t miss the coldness that crept into the lich’s voice, and for a moment, he didn’t look like the scholarly gentleman he had first appeared to be, but something much more sinister. She didn’t flinch when his gaze included her again, and there was another strange moment between them.

  “And now, I will let you enjoy your evening meal. Please, eat your fill and have a good rest before tomorrow’s busy schedule.”

  With that, the necromancer rose to his feet and gave a slight bow with his head to the gathered assembly and exited down a different corridor. Tazi found herself almost wishing he hadn’t left quite so soon.

  Not a minute after the lich left, everyone began to speak to one another again.

  “Interesting that Pyras was not able to attend, eh Aznar?” Tazi heard Lauzoril ask the bald, black-eyed man near him.

  “Makes one wonder if Pyras has been demoted,” Aznar replied. “Demoted permanently, that is.”

  More than one zulkir or tharchion commented on the absence of the man with the same speculations. While they discussed their various opinions on the Enclaves of Thay, a bevy of servants skittered in and out, carrying trays laden with all types of food and drink. They moved silently from one person to the next, letting the guest choose items from the various platters at their leisure.

  “Now, I assume that Zulkir Druxus Rhym was not allowed to help in the kitchens. Am I correct in that assumption?” demanded a woman with hollowed cheeks in apparent good humor.

  “That’s a good point, Mythrell’aa,” chuckled Naglatha. “Didn’t you kill an entire dinner party a few years ago by changing their desert pastries into poisonous snakes?”

  There were several polite laughs at the banter, but Tazi saw that most everyone had not yet touched the food on their plates. The bald, black-eyed wizard that Naglatha had addressed looked her straight in the eyes and said, with all seriousness, “It was scorpions, not snakes.” And he picked up a knife and fork and began to eat.

  A few others began to eat as well, but some of the guests got up to have more discreet conversations with others. Naglatha stood as well.

  She placed her hand lightly on Tazi’s shoulder and whispered, “I need this time to talk to a few of my colleagues. Feel free to have something to eat as well.”

  Tazi watched as Naglatha slipped over to where Nevron and Lauzoril were seated. She placed her hand, as she had with Tazi, delicately on the older man’s shoulder and immediately became engrossed in a serious discussion.

  Tazi observed the various groupings around her. More than one had become heated. The words “Tha
y” and “trade” and “army” were tossed around a bit. Whenever anyone got too impassioned, one or more of their immediate companions would remind them where they were, and that wizard would then compose him or herself. Tazi was so engrossed in the wizards’ discussions, she was barley aware when another servant came over to her and the duergar and placed plates piled high with delicacies in front of them.

  She did see Justikar sniff at his food and take a small bite of some of the meats on his plate. He scowled foully, and Tazi shook her head. She suspected that nothing except metalworking could ever bring a smile to his grim features. She turned to say something to him, but he fixed her with such an unpleasant look, she turned back to eavesdrop on the conversation to her left.

  “I still think gnolls are the next to try experimenting with,” she heard one wizard tell another and proceeded to expound on the creatures’ virtues as soldiers. She absently picked at the food on her plate and brought a forkful of cheese to her lips, barely noticing what she was doing. The next moment, she felt a powerful blow to her stomach and realized the duergar had punched her directly in the stomach.

  Tazi bent over her plate slightly and had no choice but to cough up the food she had just eaten. She wiped at her mouth and threw her napkin into her plate. Livid, she whipped her head around toward Justikar and opened her mouth to demand an explanation, but a strange event stopped her in her tracks.

  Poison, she heard the dwarf speak inside her head.

  What? she thought.

  I said, the dwarf thought angrily, there was poison in the food.

  How? demanded Tazi.

  You obviously didn’t notice, the dwarf explained, but we had a different server from everyone else. Didn’t you see that all the others and their servants got to choose what they wanted while we were brought plates already full of food?

  But—

  My kind has a tolerance for the stuff, he told her gruffly, so even though I had some, I’ll be fine. You probably would not have been so lucky. Obviously, he added, a colleague of Naglatha is less impressed with us than that lich was.