Red Magic (14 page)

A shushing sound filtered in from the doorway, becoming louder as Asp slithered closer. She stopped just beyond the door, where the wizard could see her. The spirit naga made no effort to move silently today, her tail undulating back and forth, keeping the guards a respectful distance away. She sniffed the air, and her lidless, serpentine eyes narrowed to imperceptible slits. Asp pointed her chin up, opened her eyes, and glared at Maligor.

“Roses,” she hissed. “I smell the perfume of roses.”

When the Red Wizard provided no explanation, she glided to his chair. Rocking back on her snake’s lower half so her face was lower than the wizard’s, she grimaced.

“Maligor, what do you need of a lowly, fat apprentice? I am here to carry out your plans,” she hissed.

“Jealousy does not become you, beautiful Asp,” he retorted silkily. “Especially in one who has no need to be jealous. Apprentices were made for insignificant tasks … things that are too far beneath you. Apprentices do not share in my greatest plans, nor will they share in the fruits of the conquests.”

Slightly appeased, Asp smiled and allowed her face to take on a radiant sheen. “My apologies, zulkir. I will not be jealous again. Now, on to things of greater significance. I have come to report on the gnolls’ training.”

Maligor leaned back, kicked off his slippers, and extended his feet so Asp could massage them. “I have waited anxiously all day to hear your report,” he fabricated.

“I visited each garrison today, and I took them through a variety of fighting maneuvers. Some have difficulty mastering defensive tactics, but the sergeants have been working with them hour after hour.”

“Good,” Maligor said. “How long will it take to join the three garrisons?”

She gently massaged his rough heels as she continued. “That depends on where they are to be joined. If they are united outside this tower, about a day. But this location poses some problems. There are several Red Wizards in the city, and the presence of so many soldiers will concern the wizards and frighten the officials and people of Amruthar. I suspect the wizards will do something about it.

“I recommend instead that we join them south of the tower, well outside the city boundaries. Uniting the garrisons there could take two days, three if we move them at night and keep them a good distance from the tower. That would give us the best chance for success. No doubt the local wizards would know what is happening, but they are not likely to interfere, thinking your target is south of the city and out of their domain.” She finished the massage, kissed his feet, and tenderly guided his toes into the slippers.

“Your military mind is becoming sharper, Asp. That is what we will do, then—march them south of this tower and Amruthar. Start them moving tonight. Then, three days from now, the garrisons will be joined, and we can put our plans into motion.”

The spirit naga sensuously licked her lips. “It will be glorious, My Lord Maligor.”

“Glorious,” he echoed, thinking instead of the Thayvian gold mines. In three or four days, his darkenbeasts would be released—those in his tower and those he was storing elsewhere. “Soon it will begin,” he said aloud. “The other wizards will never be able to stop me, beloved Asp. In just a few days.”

Maligor looked into his unhuman associate’s exquisite face. For a brief moment, he imagined that her eyes sparkled like gold.

Six

Brenna’s charmed guide continued to lead the trio through the well-maintained orchard, pointing out imps and other less predictable creatures as they journeyed. Traveling was easy, since the ground was level and the grass short and well tended. The strong, cool breeze rustled the branches of the citrus trees and refreshed the Harpers and the sorceress, whipping the hair away from their faces and catching the enchantress’s dress so it swirled madly about her ankles. The bald guide eyed the woman. Even in the starlight, he could watch her curves as the wind tugged her dress back and forth. Trying to gain her attention, he paused to point at a dozen soft yellow lights in the trees to the north. The lights resembled giant hovering fireflies.

“Pretty, huh?” he whispered into Brenna’s ear. “I like to sit and look at ‘em.”

“Beautiful. What are they, uh … I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”

“Elwin. My name’s Elwin. C’mon. I’ll take you closer so you can see ‘em. But be quiet. We don’t want to bother ‘em.”

Brenna cautiously urged Elwin forward, keeping an arm’s length from him. The Harpers followed close behind. The fireflies’ glow became lanterns hanging from branches, illuminating the trees so the forty or more slaves working there under the watchful eye of armed orcs could see to pick the fruit. Suddenly Wynter stopped, and for a moment, Galvin worried that the centaur would try to free the obviously mistreated group.

“If we start leaving a trail of dead guards and missing slaves, they’ll be onto us,” Galvin whispered.

“I know,” Wynter said in as soft a voice as he could manage. “I was just watching. It brought back some old memories.”

It was late when Elwin directed them to a small but thickly wooded area behind an abandoned barn. It stood a few miles from the orchard, and he claimed there was a clearing inside. Traveling in the darkness had slowed their progress. They weren’t as deep into Thay as they had expected to be.

Brenna suggested staying in the barn; she envisioned sleeping on a pile of soft hay. But Elwin insisted that patrols watched empty buildings carefully, because runaway slaves were drawn to them. She sighed and reluctantly agreed to accept the patch of trees. The vegetation was overgrown, and Elwin had difficulty climbing through it, but he seemed to know what he was doing. The leaves of the trees and bushes were wet; the drops of water shone in the starlight. It had rained here recently, perhaps only an hour or two before.

The centaur followed the guide, making a thrashing sound as his massive form disappeared into the foliage. Following him was relatively easy, Brenna discovered, since he had made a small path through the brush. By the time she reached the center of the clearing, she discovered that Galvin was already there. She had assumed he was behind her. Irritated at his speed and quietness, she muttered something under her breath, not caring at the moment if he heard her.

Patches of tall grass were scattered in the clearing. Elwin made a show of stomping them down for Brenna. He gallantly waved his arms, indicating she should sit.

“This place should be safe,” Elwin announced. “I’ve used this spot before when I skipped out on patrol duty. We’re not too near a road. The orcs’ll stay away because of all the bugs and ‘cause it’s so wet. It rains a lot here ‘cause of the orchard.”

Brenna scowled and fell to her knees, reaching out with her hands to find some place that was dry. “You mean it rains because of the Red Wizards.”

The enchantress was frustrated that she couldn’t find a dry spot to sit on, but she was too tired and proud to complain about it aloud. Rummaging in her smaller bag, she pulled out a heavy linen cloak and laid it on the ground under an elm. She sat unceremoniously on it, no longer caring if she wrinkled or ruined her clothes. Letting out a low moan, Brenna gingerly removed her antelope-skin slippers, leaning forward to accomplish the task. Her legs hurt too much to move them closer to her torso.

“Gods, I’m tired,” she said, and she began to rub her feet. They were blistered and sore, and for a moment she wished there was enough moonlight filtering through the trees so she could look at them.

“Want me to do that for you?” Elwin offered.

Wynter tapped the guide on top of his bald head. “Why don’t you get some sleep now?” The centaur was surprised when Elwin complied without argument. The guide leaned back on the ground, stretched, made himself comfortable, and began to snore softly.

Galvin sat spread-eagled in the center of the clearing, watching Elwin. Satisfied the guide wouldn’t pester Brenna, the druid began to search through his satchel. He had difficulty finding the correct root in the darkness, but eventually his efforts were successful.

“Here,” he said to Brenna, tossing her an object that looked like a misshapen carrot. “Rub that on your feet. It’ll help get rid of the blisters. Crack it first so the juice oozes out.”

Wynter glanced at the druid, about to comment on his friend’s compassion, but Galvin glared at him. Don’t say anything, the druid warned with his look.

Wynter smiled. “I just wanted to point out we should stay here in the grove tonight. We’d be wise to wait until the morning slave crews start before we move on.”

Galvin nodded then turned his attention back to Brenna. “Wrap your feet. Amruthar’s not going to be a short hike.”

“Thank you for being so concerned,” she snapped.

“I am concerned,” the druid said simply. “I can’t let you slow us down. I don’t intend for this mission to take weeks.”

“Slow you down?” she fumed, rising to her knees. “With a spell, I could fly to Amruthar!”

“Provided you knew where the city was.”

“I know where it is.”

“And you think that would be a good idea?” Galvin posed. “A great accomplishment, flying off on your own. More like a great liability.”

“Don’t talk to me about liabilities. At least I know how to talk to people. I know how to be civil. But you—” she sputtered, waking Elwin and drawing his attention. “You’ve got less manners than an orc!”

“I’m honest with people. And at least I don’t shout at them,” Galvin returned evenly, wishing he had never offered her the root.

“No, you don’t have to shout,” she taunted. “You can insult them just fine without even raising your voice. Ever try to be nice to someone?”

“I was trying to be nice to you.” Galvin grimaced.

She propped herself into a sitting position and picked up the root. “Oh, go talk to a bullfrog or something,” she groused.

“Hey, pipe down, willya?” Elwin broke in. “I had a long shift before the trip here, and I’m trying to sleep. I can’t guide you anywhere tomorrow if you keep me up all night.” The man dropped his head back into the grass. “Sheesh! Do they always fight like that?”

“No,” the centaur replied, watching Galvin and Brenna glare at each other. He was relieved to see that the sorceress was using the root on her feet. “In fact, I thought they were just starting to get along.”

“If that’s getting along, I wish they’d get along somewhere else,” Elwin grumbled.

“Elwin, you’ve got me curious,” the centaur said softly. “Your name means ‘friend to the elves’ doesn’t it? There aren’t many elves in Thay, so that must mean you’re not a native Thayvian.”

“You’re pretty smart, centaur,” Elwin mumbled, sitting up and brushing the grass and dirt from his side. He yawned, displaying his broken teeth. “I’m originally from the Sword Coast… worked on a pirate ship. A few years ago, our ship started hauling slaves to Thay. I got to like this place, so I stayed.” He winked at Wynter. “The orchard patrol pays well, and I do a little slaving on the side-children.”

Wynter was losing his patience with the evil man. “Elwin,” he said evenly, “does your slaving operation ever take you into Amruthar?”

“It takes me a lot of places,” Elwin answered, sounding businesslike. “Amruthar’s only one of ‘em. Largest city around here. Two or three times a week, slaves are shipped in and put up for sale. They’re cheaper than cattle.”

“Amruthar,” Wynter pressed angrily, not wanting to hear another word about Elwin’s slave practices. “What is the city like now? Are the streets patrolled? Can slaves on missions for their masters walk freely? Who rules the city?”

Elwin sighed. “I’ve never been hassled much in the city. If you haven’t done anything to offend a wizard or tharchion, you should be all right.”

“Are there many centaurs?”

“Like you? Not many are as big as you,” Elwin said, “but there are plenty of your type walking around.”

The man sickened Wynter. The centaur believed every being had a right to choose his or her own course in life. Elwin had chosen his course long ago, but the slaves he and others in Thay dealt in could not choose. And Elwin seemed to think of them as nothing but a commodity.

“We’re looking for a Red Wizard who’s supposed to be in Amruthar,” Wynter continued.

“A Red Wizard? There’s plenty of ‘em in Amruthar. Plenty all over Thay, for that matter,” Elwin said with a snicker.

“His name’s Maligor,” Galvin interjected. “The gnoll said the Red Wizard Maligor was staying in Amruthar.”

There was silence in the clearing. The charmed man nervously rubbed his scarred chin and looked at each of his companions.

“You’re in over your heads,” Elwin said. “Maligor’s a zulkir. I ain’t taking you to no zulkir. But I’ll take you to the outskirts of Amruthar.”

Wynter’s right front hoof pawed at the ground. “Go to sleep, Elwin,” the centaur stated.

In a few moments, the man was snoring again. Exhaustion also overcame Brenna, and a few minutes later her head fell to the damp, mossy floor in uneasy slumber.

Galvin and Wynter talked quietly for a while, discussing the best route to the city. They were hopeful they could move into Amruthar, get the information the Aglarond council and the Harper organization wanted, and then move out within a day or two.

In a short time, the Harpers decided it was time for them to rest, too. They discussed who should take first watch; neither Harper felt comfortable about leaving the small group unprotected. In the end, Galvin decided he would stay awake. But as the centaur chose a spot to sleep, his keen nostrils picked up a disturbing, almost imperceptible smell, reminiscent of something from his childhood. The breeze was carrying the scent of rotting flesh into the clearing. Finally, with a jolt, he recognized the smell.

“Galvin! Undead!” Wynter called, alerting the druid and waking Brenna and Elwin.

The druid’s eyes peered into the darkness, searching. He smelled them first, then saw their decaying bodies coming ever nearer. At first glance, the figures appeared human, and in life they might have been. But now their flesh was gray and decomposing, and it clung to their bones like tattered sails on a mast. Their hair appeared wirey, tangled, and bug-ridden, and their deep-socketed eyes, seemingly devoid of intelligence, bore straight ahead into the clearing. They were moving in through the trees, slowly making their way past the tangled branches.