Red Magic (7 page)

Asp extended a smooth, slender hand and gently laid it on Maligor’s shoulder. Her thin lips smiled and her eyes sparkled.

“It is your rightful place, my lord, to reign supreme among the Red Wizards. With my help, you will become all-powerful. None will be able to challenge you.” She brought her face so close to his that he could smell the fragrance she had dabbed on to mask her own odor. The fragrance reminded him of lilies.

“You have a plan?” she posed.

“Yes,” he replied simply. Maligor stretched his limbs on the divan, then pushed himself off it. The marble floor felt uncomfortably cool to his oiled, bare feet. Raising the hem of his red robes, he stepped into his red satin slippers and glanced over his shoulder at Asp.

Her eyes were wide in anticipation of learning his new scheme, but Maligor did not delude himself. He knew the snake-woman would support him only because she stood to gain something as well.

Striding across the room, past a large, gray marble tub set into the floor, Maligor reached a waist-high walnut cabinet filled with bottles of rare wines and liqueurs. He stooped and paused, intently studying the labels through the beveled glass, then opened the cabinet and grasped what he considered an unusual delight. The bottle was round like a melon at the bottom, but its neck was thin and twisted in a spiral. Although decades old, the bottle was spotless; the glass was thick, tinted blue, and filled with the Moonshaes’ finest peach liqueur. Reaching farther into the cabinet, he retrieved two pear-shaped, clear crystal goblets. Slaves usually handled menial tasks such as this, but the wizard didn’t want other ears present just now. Returning to the divan, he sat and passed the bottle to Asp. He held a goblet in each hand, waiting. The naga’s eyes narrowed, and a corner of her lips turned slightly downward. Maligor knew she preferred thick noxious mixtures that would make most men wretch. But to please him, she would drink the liqueur.

She thrust the painted nail of her left index finger into the cork, twisted once, and popped it open, discarding the remains on the floor for the slaves to clean up. The spirit naga poured one glass nearly full of the sweet-smelling, amber-colored liquid, but the second she filled only halfway. Asp knew the ritual. She took the glass with the lesser amount and raised it to her lips. Taking a full swallow, she nodded to Maligor and licked the sweet-tasting liqueur off her bottom lip with her thin tongue. Maligor, ever fearful of poisons or other contaminants, never drank first.

“For many long months, we’ve been adding to our army of gnolls and men—and taking other measures to boost the guard force.” Maligor stated the obvious to Asp, who knew the strength of his forces better than the Red Wizard did. “We will march our army southeast of Eltabar where a certain young Red Wizard is just starting to rise in power. His manor is almost directly east of Amruthar.”

“But that’s days from here!” the spirit naga interjected, nearly spilling her drink. “Won’t he and the other wizards become suspicious? An army of gnolls can hardly be ignored.”

Maligor chuckled. “You do well in training the soldiers, sweet Asp. However, you lack my knowledge of military strategy.”

The spirit naga hissed at the insult, but Maligor continued.

“We will first gather the army here, then march it south. This will cause all manner of speculation, as there are several likely targets south of Amruthar. Some may even think I want land directly to the south of this city to increase my local holdings. Others may think I’m after Amruthar itself.” He smiled at his plan.

“While the suppositions are bandied about, the force will head east under the cover of darkness, then north to our target. If any Red Wizards in the south decide to meet my army, they will meet nothing, and the young Red Wizard southeast of Eltabar will be undone.”

Asp thought a moment. The plan was too simple for her devious mind.

“But what if wizards join forces to attack the gnolls? They certainly have the power,” she speculated. Asp prided herself on knowing the military strengths of most of the ranking Red Wizards in Thay and was certain that if three or more wizards joined forces, the gnolls and men wouldn’t last long.

“You know that won’t happen,” Maligor countered. “Red Wizards are a suspicious lot and rarely act in concert. We forever scheme against each other. It seems to be in our makeup, dearest Asp, a prerequisite to becoming a zulkir or to achieving any significant power. No, I think the wizards to the south will worry over my army—some are probably worrying now. Doubtless one or two have been watching you through crystal balls while you drill the gnolls.”

He took a large mouthful of the peach liqueur and tilted his head back to let it run slowly down his throat. Making a mental note to acquire several more cases of the vintage, he took another drink. Then he stood and glanced down at Asp through the glass. Tilting the crystal goblet between his palms and watching the liquid run around the sides gave her complexion an exotic look.

Asp drained the rest of her liqueur in one gulp, grimacing at its sweet taste and hoping Maligor would not think to pour her another. “The young wizard southeast of Eltabar—who is he? How good are his defenses?”

Maligor raised an eyebrow and lied once more. “His name is for another day—tomorrow perhaps, after I have cast a spell to prevent him from hearing his name uttered. As for his defenses, he is young. He has yet to establish an army of any consequence.”

Asp smiled openly. “Then we are doing him a favor, my lord. If we do not attack him, another wizard will. Better for him to be defeated by you, who will be the most powerful Red Wizard in Thay.”

Maligor enjoyed Asp’s flattery, even though he knew it wasn’t sincere. He wondered if she realized when he was not being honest with her. He reached out and stroked her smooth, soft cheek, then finished his drink.

“The success of this campaign is in your hands, my lovely,” Maligor uttered in barely more than a whisper, staring unblinkingly into her eyes. “The army will move under your direction. Are the soldiers prepared for such a grand plan?”

Asp rose from the pillow, careful to rest lower so she was no taller than Maligor.

“They are ready, my lord.” She twitched her tail back and forth like a contented cat, pleased that she was being given responsibility for the march. “Your men nearby number three hundred; your gnolls number four times that. They are anxious to cleave the skulls of your enemies.”

Maligor began to pace, rubbing his chin with his right hand to appear pensive and concerned. He assumed his act was convincing. “Are they in the best shape possible, able to handle a march of several days followed by a brief siege? The wizard, though young, will have magic at his disposal, and possibly a few apprentices. With a handful of spells, they could cut an army by a fifth or more.”

Asp took affront at his doubts. “My lord! Your soldiers know fighting styles from faraway lands, and I’ve given them a cunning and ruthlessness that will push them to success. If a fifth fall to spells and arrows, the remainder will sweep over the young wizard instantly. We will crush him, and I will bring you his head.”

Asp’s eyes had lost their sparkle, replaced by a dark gleam that showed a mixture of excitement and anger. Maligor knew from her expression that she supported his plan and would work to implement it without too many questions.

The spirit naga was so caught up in the prospect of taking another wizard’s land, likely assuring herself a share in the wealth, that she failed to notice Maligor’s amused glance.

“Your force is divided now,” she said, continuing her report. “Some are camped near your slave plantation twenty miles north of here; more are stationed slightly north of that in the woods. A third are to the south, drilling, and the remainder are in barracks near this tower. They must be brought together.”

Asp looked as if she would continue her explanations, but Maligor interrupted, not wanting to waste time listening to military strategies about which he had no concern. “Dearest Asp,” he said softly, “I have every confidence in you. Your approach has merit, and I trust your instincts. You are the warrior, not I. Tomorrow, make sure you visit each unit of men and gnolls. One of my flying carpets will be placed at your disposal. The army must be at its peak.”

“Of course,” she said, her tail still twitching. “And after we defeat the young wizard?”

“We divide the spoils.”

“And then?”

Maligor winked at her and poured himself another glass of liqueur. “We won’t stop there, of course. Growth is good for the soul and necessary for surviving in Thay.”

He strode to the divan and eased himself back on the supple leather cushions, balancing his glass on his chest. “I need to relax,” he said, yawning for effect. “Attend to your forces, and we will talk more tomorrow night.”

She bent to kiss his forehead, carefully placed her glass on the floor near the stack of pillows, and slithered from the room.

When Maligor heard the door close behind her, he laughed, a soft maniacal chortle that made the guards stationed at the entrance shiver.

Beautiful fool, he thought as he sipped the liqueur. Fortunate for me that she is so blind. My true plans lie elsewhere, Asp, and are grander then you could ever imagine. My true plans would make even you pale.

Maligor’s scheme included the naga and dictated she have a significant role, but it would not be a role she would fashion for herself. She would not direct an army, or even a single gnoll, he mused. I will pull her strings, and she will help me achieve wealth beyond her own imagining and power to put me beyond the other wizards’ grasps. He finished the liqueur and let the glass fall to the floor, shattering.

Although the drink was having some effect on him, Maligor was actually becoming drunk on dreams of power. The Red Wizard’s plans had taken him far in his life, through the ranks of the School of Alteration and eventually to its head as zulkir, where he had a hand in Thayvian politics and therefore a say in the very direction of the evil country. His forces were many and challenged that of the lich Szass Tam, whose legions of undead were legend. But he was certain his ambition surpassed the lich’s.

Maligor could accomplish his goals without the aid of the snake-woman, he knew, but her presence would make certain things easier. His mind once again focused on the red-haired sorceress encountered by his darkenbeast.

Maligor stood, avoiding the slivers of glass, and steadied himself. He padded toward a sunken marble tub filled to the brim with water now grown tepid. Crouching unsteadily at its edge, the Red Wizard reached into a pocket of his robe and groped with his bony fingers. Rewarded, he withdrew a small clump of dried flower petals. Crushing them between his fingers, he dropped them into the water and concentrated, trying to remember every detail of the woman’s face, every curl that cascaded over her forehead.

Ripples formed on the surface of the water, pushing the flower petals toward the edges of the tub. Then the water calmed, and in the center of the water’s surface, the woman’s visage appeared. Maligor strained his senses to hear her.

“Wynter,” Brenna intoned in a musical voice that nearly mesmerized the listening Maligor. “It’s nearly dawn. Shouldn’t we be leaving now?”

“We’ll eat first, then start toward Thay,” replied a deep voice. The Red Wizard could not identify the speaker. “Don’t worry. We’ll be inside that evil country soon enough.”

Thay. Maligor’s mind raced. Then the woman really could be a Red Wizard, an ambassador, perhaps, stationed in a neighboring land. Red Wizards were known to let their hair grow long when they mingled with others outside of Thay. It helped them fit in with many cultures and disguised their true heritage.

“I could use something to eat, too,” the woman replied.

Maligor watched her slender hand rub her stomach through the cloth of an expensive dress. The woman’s hand was bedecked with rings, marking her as a person of some wealth. The Red Wizard strained to see past her to get a hint of her surroundings, but the grayness of the day kept him from seeing very far. All Maligor could make out were the legs of a massive black war-horse behind her and tall grass everywhere. At least he knew the woman was outdoors, sitting on the ground probably, and not likely within the confines of a city. But he couldn’t determine any real hint of her location.

“I’ll help you pack up the tent,” the deep voice continued.

“Thanks, Wynter,” she replied in her melodic voice. Then her lips pursed and her delicate brows furrowed. The sorceress scratched at the back of her neck and then glanced about.

High in his tower, Maligor wondered what had caught the woman’s attention. In another moment, he knew. The woman’s eyes snapped open and she stared straight ahead. The Red Wizard saw her face plainly in the surface of the water. Her lips flew apart in a warning.

“Wynter, we’re being watched! Someone’s scrying on us!”

“Scrying?” the deep voice queried, obviously unaware of what the sorceress was talking about.

“I’ll explain later,” she said, her melodic voice becoming harsh and commanding.

Maligor watched as her intense eyes squeezed shut and she threw her hands over her ears. The Red Wizard heard her mumble something—magical words, he knew, but he was unfamiliar with them. An instant later, the water in the tub began to bubble, wiping out the image of the unnamed sorceress. Maligor bent closer to the surface of the water but saw nothing except the bottom of the tub and the crushed petals swirling about.

“Damn!” he swore, rising shakily to his feet. Maligor paced about the tub, still intent on the woman. “I must find her,” he whispered. “I must know what she’s up to.”

“What is scrying?” Wynter persisted. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a form of magic,” Brenna replied. Gazing up at the centaur’s angular face, she frowned. “It’s a way to watch people through crystal balls and other devices.”

Wynter still looked puzzled.

“You can’t see who’s watching you, but sometimes you can tell you’re being watched.” Brenna scratched at the back of her neck. “But only sometimes. More often than not, you’d never have a clue that someone was spying on you.”