Unclean hl-1

by Richard Lee Byers

  "Good," said the necromancer, and his halo faded away. "Now, who are your fellow officers?" The folk in question stepped forward, some only after a moment's hesitation. Szass Tam gestured to a patch of clear ground a few yards away. "It looks as if we have room to sit and talk over there. Shall we?"

  The officers exchanged looks then moved in the direction the zulkir had indicated. Aoth surmised that the situation felt as surreal and impossible to control to them as it did to him. He started after them.

  "Help me over there," Bareris croaked.

  Aoth snorted. "You already had your chance to be stupid."

  "If you gave Szass Tam a truce, I was wrong to break it, and I'm sorry, but I have to hear what he has to say."

  "Don't make me regret it." Aoth hauled Bareris to his feet, draped the bard's arm across his shoulders, and essentially carried him to the clear spot. As far as he could see, Bareris didn't have any actual wounds. Szass Tam had simply burned away his strength.

  The necromancer smiled sardonically as Aoth set Bareris back down on the ground. "I trust the inclusion of this gentleman won't prevent us from enjoying a civil conversation."

  "He'll behave himself," said Aoth. He paused, waiting for somebody senior to himself to assume the role of chief spokesman for the Griffon Legion, then he realized no one else intended to put himself forward. "What is it you want to say to us, Your Omnipotence?"

  "I suppose," the lich replied, sitting cross-legged on the grass like any ordinary person, "I should begin by congratulating you. Your campaign of harassment slowed my army sufficiently to achieve your purpose."

  Despite his fear of the lich, Aoth felt a pang of satisfaction. "So you won't take Bezantur without a hard fight."

  "Alas," said Szass Tam, "I won't take it at all, at least not this month nor the next. My fellow zulkirs have a sizable force maneuvering to intercept me, and they're reportedly willing to commit their own persons to the battle. I'd have to fight them with the Lapendrar at my back, hindering my retreat if I should need to make one, and even if I won, Samas Kul has Bezantur ready to resist a siege. All things considered, my tharchions and I believe the superior strategy is to withdraw."

  "Then we won," said Malark.

  Of them all, he seemed most at ease in the lich's presence, perhaps because, serving as Dmitra Flass's lieutenant, he'd seen the creature often. Or maybe it was simply because few things seemed to daunt or even surprise him.

  "In a sense," said Szass Tam, "but it's time to consider what you've won. By balking me, you've simply condemned Thay to a long war instead of a short one, a protracted struggle as destructive as only the wizardry of archmages can devise. That's of little practical consequence to me. I'll still win in the end, and immortal as I am, I'll have all the time I need to rebuild. But I would have preferred to spare humbler folk the miseries that now await them."

  Aoth shrugged. "I don't know about any of that. I just know we had to follow our orders and do our duty."

  "Why," asked Szass Tam, "do you believe your duty lies with the other zulkirs instead of me?"

  "That," said Malark, smiling, "is a good question, Your Omnipotence, for obviously, nothing you've done is illegal, treasonous, or wrong. It can't be, because a zulkir's will is itself the definition of what's proper."

  "As I recall," Szass Tam said, "you hail from the Moonsea. Perhaps it amuses you to mock our Thayan way of thinking."

  "By no means," said Malark. "I simply meant to convey that I follow your logic. I recognize your authority is as legitimate as the council's, and the choice between you is essentially an arbitrary one."

  "Then why not join me," said the lich, "and undo a portion of the harm you've caused? You could. You could strike a crippling blow before the council realizes you've switched sides, and afterward I'll treat you well. You'll hold high honors in the Thay to come, whereas if you cleave to your present course, you'll only reap disaster and defeat."

  "That may be," said Malark. "I certainly wouldn't wager against you, Your Omnipotence, but even knowing the decision's not particularly sensible, I prefer to oppose you."

  Szass Tam cocked his head. "Why?"

  "Without intending any insult, I have to confess the undead repulse me. Everything should live and die in its season, so I'm not partial to the idea of a lich king, and likewise not averse to the idea of this long war you promise. It promises to be quite a spectacle."

  "I'm against you, too," said Aoth, though the words made him feel as if he were slipping his neck into a noose. "I swore my oath to Nymia Focar, so if she stands with the council, so do I." He hesitated. "Actually, there's more to it than that. I saw what your undead raiders did in Pyarados to the 'humbler folk' you say you'd like to spare. I saw the torches explode in the hands of the priests who trusted you, and it all just sticks in my craw a little."

  "I regret those deaths," said Szass Tam, "but they were necessary to further a greater good."

  "What 'greater good?'" Aoth demanded. "You already ruled Thay, or near enough. The other zulkirs followed your lead more often than not. Why must you wear an actual crown even if it brings ruin on the land?"

  Szass Tam hesitated. "It's a little complicated."

  "Not for me," Bareris gritted. "Your servants destroyed the woman I loved and hundreds of innocents like her. You made yourself the enemy of your own people, and we'd all be crazy to give you our trust or fealty ever again."

  "You gentlemen disappoint me," said the lich. "Is there none among you with any breadth or clarity of thought? Does it truly matter if a few peasants perished a day or a decade early? Everyone suffers and dies in the end, and the world rolls on just the same without him. That's the sad, shabby way of things as they are." He looked at Bareris. "In a year or two, you'll forget all about this lass you think you adored."

  "You're wrong," said Bareris. "I'll never forget her, and I'll make sure you don't, either."

  Szass Tam looked around the circle of captains. "I'll ask once more: Are you all of one mind? Does no one believe the Griffon Legion ought to side with the eldest and most powerful zulkir? The wizard whom, in your private thoughts, you already considered the one true master of Thay?"

  Apparently no one did. Probably more than one of them questioned the wisdom of his choice, but awed and frightened by the lich, they'd kept mum while Aoth, Malark, and Bareris presented a united front, and now, perhaps, it was easier to remain silent than dissent.

  "So be it then. Just don't say I didn't give you a chance." Szass Tam rose, and Aoth tensed. Truce or no, it wouldn't astonish him if the necromancer, his offer spurned, lashed out with some terrible spell.

  Instead he simply nodded goodnight and turned his back to them as if they were trusted friends then strolled toward the perimeter of the camp.

  "Your Omnipotence!" Malark called.

  Szass Tam glanced back around. "Yes?"

  "May I ask one question?"

  "Go ahead, though I don't promise an answer you'll understand."

  "Tell us why you killed Druxus Rhym."

  "How astute of you to wonder. Suffice it to say, I spoke of necessary sacrifices, and poor Druxus's was the most vital and regrettable of all." Szass Tam took another step, and then, abruptly, he was gone, vanished between one instant and the next.

  Aoth realized he was holding his breath and let it out. "That was… interesting. What did we just do?"

  Malark grinned. "Signed our own death warrants, probably."

  "I wish I believed you were wrong." Aoth turned to the other officers. "Get the men moving. We have to clear out. Maybe Szass Tam didn't feel like dirtying his own hands slaughtering us, but now that he knows where we are, he could still send wraiths and skin kites down on our heads."

  EPILOGUE

  2 Flamerule, the Year of Risen Elfkin

  Night after night, the bats ranged this way and that, attacking scaly little kobolds, shaggy mountain sheep, and whatever other prey they could find. Gradually, the blood replenished their strength.

  Th
e one direction they didn't want to fly was north. They couldn't remember precisely why, but they had a sense that if they traveled in that direction, something fundamental would change and existence would become abhorrent.

  Yet over time, they did drift north. They simply couldn't help it.

  At last they reached the wide round shaft plunging deep into the earth. They realized they'd seen it before, and the entity floating above the rim of the well also. He looked like a huge, malformed fetus, and impossible as it seemed, he was even more grotesque than formerly. His eyes were more ill-matched, with one approximately human and the other globular and white.

  The same was true of his hands. One remained a puny, rotting thing, but its mate was now enormous, ink black, and possessed of long talons. A ring of sutures revealed that someone had stitched it on.

  The bats made one final effort to flee but only in their thoughts. Their will was so thoroughly constrained that even as they struggled, they swooped to the rim of the well, swirled together, and became a single being.

  With unity came memory, and Tammith realized who and what she was. Anguish rose inside her.

  "Daughter!" Xingax crowed. "This is wonderful! I was certain I'd lost you, but then I felt you returning to me."

  She yearned to attack him, yearned, too, to put an end to herself and knew she could do neither.

  "You must tell me," said Xingax, "how did you survive?"

  "He cut me apart," she said dully. Bareris had, her love, and had been right to do it. "It was horrible, but it didn't kill me, and somehow I turned the pieces into bats and flew inside a house. I made it just before the sunlight came."

  Xingax smiled. "I told you you're special."

  "I'm vile!" she spat. "You changed me to fight in an army, and we lost. The other creatures died. Let me die too."

  He pouted. "I'd hoped that by now you would have put such foolish notions behind you. Our master didn't lose his whole army, just a fraction of it, and of course you'll continue to serve with the host that remains. I predict that in time you'll rise to be one of its greatest champions. Now come below. You can have your pick of the slaves, and that will make you feel better."

  PERSONAGES OF THAY

  The Zulkirs

  Aznar Thrul (Evocation); also tharchion of Priador

  Druxus Rhym (Transmutation)

  Lallara (Abjuration)

  Lauzoril (Enchantment)

  Mythrellan (Illusion)

  Nevron (Conjuration)

  Szass Tam (Necromancy)

  Yaphyll (Divination)

  The Tharchions

  Azhir Kren (Gauros)

  Dimon (Tyraturos); also a priest of Bane

  Dmitra Flass (Eltabbar); also a Red Wizard of Illusion and princess of Mulmaster; "the First Princess of Thay"

  Hezass Nymar (Lapendrar); also Eternal Flame of the temple of Kossuth in Escalant

  Homen Odesseiron (Surthay)

  Invarri Metron (Delhumide)

  Milsantos Daramos (Thazalhar)

  Nymia Focar (Pyarados)

  Pyras Autorian (Thaymount)

  Thessaloni Canos (Alaor)

  Others

  Iphegor Nath, High Flamelord of the Church of Kossuth

  Ramas Ankhalab, autharch of Anhaurz

  Samas Kul, Master of the Guild of Foreign Trade; also a Red Wizard of Transmutation

  Shabella the Pale, Guildmistress of the Temple of Mask in Bezantur; also chief of that city's thieves' guild

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  Document creation date: 27.01.2012

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