by Jean Rabe
Charmaine closed the door behind her. Szass Tam pulled the curtain shut, walked to his desk, and sat to gaze into the crystal ball again. It would be the last time he used it today-prolonged use was mentally taxing, even for him. It could also be dangerous. The longer the lich's mind remained linked to a scene in the ball, the more his consciousness wanted to stay there. He ran his now fleshy hand over the ball, felt its cool smoothness, and concentrated on Zulkir Maligor.
The colors danced, coalesced, and parted to reveal Maligor's face. The crystal ball appeared cloudy because of the wards Maligor had in place. The lich was furious and concentrated harder. Still the colors swirled.
At the same instant, Maligor felt something, a tugging at his mind, a tickling sensation that made it difficult for him to concentrate and made him edgy. He tried to keep at bay the persistent presence that was trying to contact him. The force was strong-definitely another zulkir, Maligor determined. He was angry at himself for so focusing his attention on his work that he had let his guard down. Still the mind reached out to his, and still Maligor resisted. Like a child caught doing something wrong, the wizard fluttered about to cover his work, then strolled to the window.
Maligor had the power to keep the probing zulkir from disturbing his endeavors, but he was curious, and he wanted to know who wished to contact him and why. Opening the barred window and inhaling the fresh air, he dropped his guard more and let the presence come.
Maligor's eyes narrowed. It was Szass Tam.
"Zulkir Maligor," the lich intoned in a rich, even voice. "We must talk."
Maligor glanced out over the open-air market, which was crowded at midday. He caught the faint smell of chickens and other livestock and vegetables drying in the sun. He surveyed the scene for several minutes, making the lich wait.
In his library, Szass Tam merely smiled. Maligor's show of preeminence was lost on the lich. Szass Tam was content to wait and peer through the crystal ball at Maligor, studying the darkened circles beneath his adversary's old eyes. Maligor hadn't slept much, the lich knew. His fingers were stained with ink, he was tired and unkempt, and he was most certainly up to something. Still, he was not so weary that he was careless. Szass Tam strained to see past him into the room beyond to catch a glimpse of what he had been doing. All he saw was a plate of food and a half-empty glass of wine. Even that picture was hazy because of the magical wards.
What was he up to? the lich continued to wonder. Maligor's puppet, the spirit naga, wasn't with him. Perhaps she was still in the field drilling the gnolls, where the lich had viewed her hours earlier. It was unusual for the evil beauty to be far from her mentor's side, where it was easier to gather up the crumbs he left behind.
"Talk, then," Maligor said, satisfied he had made his rival wait long enough. "You have my attention for a few moments. Is this something about the next meeting of the Council of Zulkirs? That is two weeks away. And you already know my stance on strengthening the First Escarpment forces."
"I don't care about your position on the escarpment," Szass Tam replied, allowing a wavering vision of himself to appear in the air before Maligor. He knew the form would hold Maligor's attention. "I care about your gnoll forces. I want to know what you plan to do with them."
"Surely you don't think I'd be foolish enough to take them against you," Maligor said, feigning surprise. "I'm no fool, Szass Tam. My forces are not meant for you."
The scholarly vision of Szass Tam solidified, but only to Maligor. Others would have seen only air. "I respect your intelligence," the lich lied. "You are among the most powerful zulkirs in Thay, and I know your wisdom would not allow you to challenge me. But I still want to know who your gnolls will challenge."
Maligor smiled. If Szass Tam was bothered by his gnolls, other wizards and tharchions would be concerned also. The lich's interest also made Maligor aware that he would have to set his plan into motion very soon to prevent other wizards from moving against the gnolls. He remained quiet, mulling over the situation and waiting for Szass Tam to continue. He didn't wait long.
"I want to know your scheme, friend zulkir." The lich's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I want to know what you are about. I may even want a piece of your plan."
Maligor thrust his hands in his pockets and rotated his neck to work out the stiffness. There was no hiding from the lich that he had been working on something.
"Very well," Maligor said, pretending defeat. "I should have known you would take an interest in my dealings. And I am certain that if you've been watching my gnolls, others have as well. I just want to be able to move them without interference, Szass Tam. If you desire a 'piece' of my plan, I will undoubtedly have to give it to you. With your undead army, you'd wrest it from me anyway. But if you are to take your 'piece' at least give me some aid in this endeavor." Maligor fingered a lump of gold in his pocket as he considered how to phrase his false plan.
"I plan to march against a young Red Wizard from the magical School of Illusion, who is likely beneath your notice. His name is Rembert Wellford, a distant cousin to a tharchion in Eltabar, and he has recently completed his apprenticeship and has gone off on his own.
"The young man has only begun to build his forces and attempt to make a name for himself in Thay. If I don't march against him, another wizard will. He isn't a major power, and I will keep him from becoming one. It isn't that I expect him to grow to any significant stature. I don't think he has the mettle or guile. Besides, if his position was my concern, I would let him be and concentrate on something else. It is his land that interests me."
Maligor watched Szass Tam's image, content that he had intrigued the lich's prying nature, although he remained skeptical whether the lich believed him or not. The lich would be a fool to, he knew.
"The land is rich, some of the richest earth in Thay," Maligor said truthfully. "In my lifetime, I have never been concerned with crops and weather spells, but I have come to realize that those things also equate to power. The land isn't far from another expanse of property I own, so conquering it would serve to increase my territory."
"Nor is it far from some of my land," Szass Tam said.
"Hence, your 'piece,' as you call it," Maligor continued. "I will divide this land with you. Of course, I will take the larger portion, since it will be my gnolls fighting for it. Still, you will have a significant section of land. All I ask is that you use your skeletons and zombies as a deterrent. I don't want them to join my gnolls. This is my undertaking, and my force is more than up to it. I just want you to gather a group of your undead to make some other wizards nervous. It will split their attention so not all eyes are on me."
Maligor was becoming increasingly pleased with himself, certain that his plan sounded plausible.
"You wouldn't oppose me in this, would you?" Maligor queried, seeking some response from the lich.
"No," Szass Tam said simply. "Although I am curious why you have just now developed an interest in fertile land. Still, your plan is interesting. Does Rembert Wellford suspect anything? And his neighbors… are they powerful? Where precisely is this land?"
"The land is south of Eltabar, nearly directly east of Amruthar," Maligor said as he continued to finger the gold in his pocket. "His neighbors are inconsequential farmers under the jurisdiction of other wizards. While the wizards are a concern, the farmers are not-they can't possibly stand up to my gnolls. And I don't think Rembert has a clue. Even if he did, he could do nothing to stop me. If he has associates, they aren't likely to step in to aid him. Helping Rembert would only leave them open to my wrath. His former mentor, the Zulkir of Illusion, wouldn't help him either."
"You've planned well," Szass Tam said. "But Rembert's land has importance beyond its agricultural value, although you haven't mentioned that. The land isn't far from the sanctuary of the Zulkir of Illusion. It is within striking distance, a good military perch if you are considering positioning yourself against the zulkir."
Maligor didn't respond at first, letting the silence linger. He f
eigned looking disconcerted and cast his eyes downward at his slippered feet.
"Well, there is that about the land," Maligor admitted, allowing himself an evil grin. "I suppose the property's position is just as important as the richness of its soil."
"I want half the land," Szass Tam demanded quietly. "That will keep you from becoming too strong. And I will not help you," he added in a tone that brooked no dissension. "I will not muster any undead to draw attention away from you-and to me. I will not give you a portion of my army to aid in your plan. However, I will not oppose you, and that is of consequence. Nor will I spread word of your scheme."
"I could indeed expect no more from you," Maligor said graciously, accepting the lich's part in his ruse, "and when I am successful, half the land will be yours. We are agreed, then?"
The image of the lich wavered, became ghostlike, then melted away.
"We are agreed," the air replied.
Maligor felt the presence depart. Then he concentrated to shield his mind from any further interruptions and closed the barred windows. His plans couldn't be progressing better, he thought, delighted that the lich seemed certain of his target. But Maligor knew the Zulkir of Necromancy, knew that he was capable of backstabbing and twisting promises. No doubt the lich planned to take all of Rembert Wellford's land once it was in the hands of Maligor's gnolls. The lich wouldn't settle for a mere half, and taking all of it would be a likely double cross. Or, far less likely, perhaps Szass Tam would try to take the land before Maligor's gnolls could get there.
Perhaps the gnolls truly will have to move against Rembert to keep the lich satisfied and unsuspecting, Maligor thought. And if a young, power-hungry Rembert had to fall to mask the real plan, it would be an added benefit. Then there was Asp, the zulkir added to himself. He would no longer be lying to the naga if he really did go after an important piece of land.
Maligor padded to his marble-topped table, pushed aside his cold plate of boiled fish, and placed a page of parchment before him. Dipping a quill in honey-scented ink, he began to pen a spell. Four completed scrolls, neatly tied with cord, lay on the right-hand corner of his table. Next to them lay a half-dozen blank scrolls waiting for Maligor's attention. He sipped a glass of spiced blackberry wine between passages.
The Zulkir of Alteration was obsessed with increasing his darkenbeast army. Under cover of last night's darkness, he had moved half his force, along with their inhuman guardians, to the basement of an abandoned grain mill north of Amruthar. That left room in the tower's lower level for more darkenbeasts.
Maligor recognized his limitations. A human mind could hold only so many spells within it, only enough to let him create four or five dozen darkenbeasts a day. However, by transferring those spells onto paper instead-the scrolls in front of him-he would be able to create far more of the beasts tomorrow. He had been adding to his magical scroll collection, having nearly two dozen now. Tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, he would read them all, transforming every loose rodent and caged animal in his tower into a deadly creature.
That many darkenbeasts should be enough, he thought. Maligor paused, then decided to take stock of his other magical constructs and servants. It wouldn't do to take all of his forces out of the tower and leave it unprotected. He took mental inventory of his golems, magical creatures that were manlike in form but were made of stone and clay. They moved slowly, but they were relentless and powerful, and some were ensorcelled with special powers that allowed them to breathe flame. He also had a dozen apprentices here, only half of which he would take with him to the gold mines. The remainder should have enough defensive spells to keep anyone who might make it past his magical guards and wards and golems at bay. There were also the gnoll tower guards and slaves, should anyone be so foolish to attack his holdings.
All of that should be more than enough, if for some reason another Red Wizard decided to attack his keep while he was gone. However, he remained confident that all energies would be directed against his gnolls and their false battle plans.
Reveling in the intricacies of his scheme, the Red Wizard went to the cabinet and retrieved more blank scrolls. More darkenbeasts, he thought-many, many more darkenbeasts. He resumed penning the enchanted scrolls.
In his library, Szass Tam leaned back in his chair, staring at the clear crystal ball that sparkled in the light of the thick tapers. It was undeniable that Maligor had lied to him; the Zulkir of Alteration would have no reason to tell the lich what he really intended to do with the gnolls.
Szass Tam reverently pushed the crystal ball to the side of his desk and cleared a larger space in the center. He rose, paced to a map holder, and ran a slender, bony finger over the unmarked tubular map cases. The lich selected the center tube, which contained a map showing an overview of the central portion of Thay. He returned to his desk and pulled the map from its container. Spreading the clothlike parchment out on the desk, he placed a candle on each corner to weigh it down and prevent it from curling. Amruthar showed several inches from the western edge of the map.
Running his left index finger from Amruthar to the land now held by Rembert Wellford, the lich imagined Maligor's gnolls marching on the young illusionist.
One thing was certain, Szass Tam decided. Maligor wasn't interested in Wellford's holdings. The lich studied maps of Thay until well in the evening, formulating possible uses for the gnolls and probable targets. He was frustrated, however, finding nothing that stood out as Maligor's likely goal. He resigned himself to continuing his postulations and to keeping his "agreement" with the Zulkir of Alteration.
It was well after midnight when a weary Charmaine rapped on the door. "So sorry to disturb you, master," she said, her voice muffled behind the wood, "but one of your minions insists on speaking with you."
Szass Tam put on his fleshly form and gestured toward the door. It creaked open, revealing Charmaine, in her bedclothes, holding a candle. A ghoul stood next to her, attempting to keep its distance from the flame. The undead man shuffled forward, bits of its rotting flesh clinging to the doorframe as it passed through. The ghoul at one time had been a jeweler in Eltabar; gold glinted from around his wrists and neck where his neck chain and bracelets had imbedded themselves in rotting flesh. Pieces of expensive clothing still hung on his unnaturally thin frame.
"Will there be anything else, master?" Charmaine queried softly.
"No. You may go."
Charmaine gracefully retreated down the hall, the candlelight marking her passage.
The lich turned to face the undead creature as it ambled toward him. The ghoul had difficulty speaking, since half of its lower jaw was missing. Szass Tam opted to pull the information from its undead mind rather than translate its guttural words into understandable conversation.
The ghoul told Szass Tam of the patrol he was a part of, how they had spotted movement and heard voices in a small grove of trees and how the ghouls had hungrily moved in to investigate. In the center of the trees were three humans, one of them likely Thayvian because of his bald head, and a centaur. The bald man died quickly, but the others were unusually strong and resourceful, killing most of the ghoul patrol. It told its master how it escaped to relay this information directly, since somehow in its decomposing brain, it believed the information was important.
Szass Tam mentally pressed the ghoul for more, and it complied, telling him in detail what the surviving humans, a blond-haired man and a fire-haired woman, looked like. To the ghoul, the centaur appeared much like those who worked on the slave plantations and elsewhere in Thay. The lich didn't find the information especially interesting, assuming that the ghoul described a pair of slaves and their centaur keeper.
But then the ghoul mentioned a shiny chain it saw dangling from the blond man's neck. It was adorned with a polished silver moon affixed to a harp. The jewelry had come loose from under the man's clothing during the fight, and the ghoul noticed it because it disliked silver.
Szass Tam's abandoned his fleshly form as the ghoul continu
ed to describe the unsuccessful battle to the half-listening lich. The lich's eyes, now pinpoints of hot light, stared into the dark corners of the library.
"Harpers," he whispered.
Eight
"Don't!" Galvin admonished, grabbing Brenna's hand roughly before she could scratch her bald head. He held it for a moment, feeling how soft and smooth it was, how thin and small her fingers were, then released it when he caught her looking at him.
"But it itches!" she moaned. "It feels like ants are crawling on my scalp."
Wynter, who led the procession down the road toward Amruthar, paused to watch the scene between the druid and Brenna Graycloak, who had stopped several yards behind him. He decided not to involve himself in the conversation and continued on down the road. They'd catch up when they were finished, he thought, and he'd trot slowly, just in case.
This was the trio's second day on their journey to Amruthar. Today the sky was filled with cottony white clouds. The centaur was certain a wizard would manage to coax rain out of them sometime before dark, and he was tired of getting wet. He wanted to be in Amruthar by nightfall. In the city, he knew that with only one or two of his gold coins, he could get a steaming feast and a sturdy roof over his head. Wynter was hungry. He was tired of the fruit and nuts Galvin provided. The centaur's cavernous stomach rumbled in response to his thoughts, and he cast his view about the countryside, searching for something else to occupy his mind.
The road narrowed as it wound between young birches, some of them recently planted. Wynter noted that many of the lower branches of the trees had been trimmed to shape them. Ahead, the land changed from flat meadows and landscaped orchards to low rolling hills. Cattle grazed on a rise to the left. Wynter stared at the slow-moving cows and imagined himself eating a thick steak.
His stomach rumbled again, and he turned and concentrated on Galvin and Brenna to keep his thoughts from food.
