Then he peered closer, and his eyes grew larger still.
Plucking the gem from the coffer, Malasko held it under his nose for a searching examination of its depths, his gaze filling with wonder.
He stared for a long time, swallowing once, ere he lifted his eyes from the gem in his hand to look at her with a gaze that smoldered with promise.
The Lady Narantha Crownsilver met that gaze with a look that sizzled. Parting her lips, she licked them very slowly, as one of her hands strayed to her own throat, and caressed it languidly.
She was lifting that hand to her mouth when the gem sank entirely from view into Malasko’s fingers, and his look of naked lust slid into blank-eyed happiness.
Suspicious eyes peered through an ornate oval window, watching every moment of Narantha Crownsilver’s disappearance back inside her waiting carriage. As that conveyance rumbled away over the cobbles, the watcher sighed, turned from the window, went to a room hung with tapestries and lit by a lone lantern, and carefully cast a spell.
The palm of his left hand tingled and glowed-then he seemed to be holding the moving, talking face of a woman in it.
“Yes, Nardryn? What befalls?”
Nardryn Tamlast was a careful, conservative man. To last more than a month, any house wizard of the Erduskings would have to be.
“Laspeera, some misgivings have arisen here.”
“Yours alone? Or are the Erduskings party to them?”
“Mine.” Tamlast was a middle-aged man with a forgettable face, who had never had much coin to call his own. He was as sparing with words as with the spending of his wealth. “You’re aware of Lady Narantha Crownsilver’s tour of suitable nobles, I’m sure. She’s just departed here. I do not believe she found the younger Lord Erdusking to her liking-but I also fail to believe she is truly seeking a mate. She’s not quite the skilled actress she thinks she is.”
“She’d not have to be, to cozen young Malasko-or most of his ilk, for that matter. Yet I agree with you. Her public reason for visiting all of these young noblemen is so much piffle. Did you observe anything of their meeting?”
“No, Lady. Such things are not done in this house.” Something that might have been the long-dead ghost of a smile rose briefly to the vicinity of Tamlast’s lips, ere vanishing without a trace. “Not with all the spell-shields and trap-magics the Erduskings collect so enthusiastically and apply so lavishly. They think themselves of vital importance to the realm-and important folk deal in many secrets.”
“Of course,” Laspeera agreed dryly. “So you believe we war wizards should-”
“Lady, please. I’d not waste your time just to send needless advice. I uncovered something specific that should be of great interest to you.”
“I’m sorry, Nardryn. What is it?”
“I made so bold as to probe at Lady Crownsilver’s mind, upon her arrival. She’s protected, of course, by something that seemed to respond to my spells as if it could think-though the lady cast no spells of her own, that I observed. Yet before it walled me out, I learned this much: the lady believes she’s carrying out some sort of secret mission for the king.”
The face in Tamlast’s palm cursed, uttering the most fearsome words in a whisper.
Tamlast quirked an eyebrow. “Is this reaction due to a fear you’ve uncovered treason? Or some private stratagem of the king’s? Or the hand of the royal magician at work?”
“Yes,” Laspeera replied, in an even drier voice-and winked into nothingess, leaving the house wizard staring thoughtfully at his empty palm.
In all the years they’d worked together, the motherly second-in-command of the war wizards had never abruptly broken off a spell-link before.
Horaundoon grinned. The hargaunt’s chimes sounded strange when it was plastered over his face.
“That makes eleven she’s wormed for me, now,” he told it with solid satisfaction. “And the beauty of it is that the war wizards can’t find me. All the mindworms are linked to the first one: Narantha’s worm. Not to me directly. If they move against her, I can just withdraw and be ‘not there.’ In fact, never there for them to find.”
The hargaunt’s chiming was almost a trill this time. Even it was getting excited.
Horaundoon put his fingertips together and smiled at nothing over them. If this scheme worked, it would be his most brilliant achievement, and should win him the favor of Manshoon and much awe among all Zhentarim-and make his planned “disappearance” urgently necessary.
The hargaunt chimed again, insistently, and Horaundoon hastened to answer. “Through the worms I can make those young nobles speak and act as I desire. If one fights me, I can prevail only for a short time-yet it will be more than enough to mislead war wizards, Purple Dragons, and others as to his loyalty and plans.”
Horaundoon strolled across the room toward his decanters for a spot of Berduskan Dark.
“This,” he added, before the hargaunt could tell him again that it was tiring of half-answers, “should result in these nobles being discredited and killed while resisting arrest-for unless they’ve minds stronger than most archmages, they’ll remember nothing coherent of my compelling them, and so will be bewildered at the treatment they get from the authorities. If they submit, they may well get executed for treason-and surrender, die fighting, or flee into exile, whichever they choose. Their families may well end up dispossessed and exiled.”
He unstoppered the decanter he was seeking, spun around on his heels triumphantly in search of the right tallglass, and continued, “The Obarskyrs acting against these nobles will of course spread fear and hatred of the royals among the rest of the nobles, about the Obarskyrs mayhap turning on them next. Which will make”-he poured, sipped, sighed appreciatively, and filled the tallglass-“said nobles much more receptive than they’ve traditionally been to sly, secret offers of coin, alliances, trade assistance and ties, and suchlike, from handy, smiling, local Zhent agents.”
Horaundoon set down his glass and murmured, “Speaking of which…”
He settled himself in the nearest chair and thought of Florin. When the mindworm in the forester’s head stirred, he reached through it very gently, not wanting to have the young man feel his presence, get alarmed, and fight him.
Ah. Our Florin was upset and angry with someone-a friend-and striding to a confrontation with her. Good. He’d not notice a light delving to capture the way he spoke, the phrases he liked to use…
The knowledge settled into Horaundoon’s busy mind like a cold, heavy weight, and he winced, wiping sudden sweat from his face. Forcing a mind to reveal something or say something was swift, simple work; this was more like trudging, on a slippery hillside, under a heavy load that kept shifting… Steadying himself under the cold heaviness, he thought of Narantha Crownsilver-and in a trice felt her stiffen at his touch in her mind. He made himself feel like Florin, so he’d sound like Florin when mind-talking.
Narantha? Lady? Hear you me? A kindly war wizard has cast a spell to let me mindspeak you.
Florin! Lord of my love, how fare you? I miss you!
And I you. I fare very well, but cannot speak long, and of course have no privacy for our speaking. So I’d just like to say this: I’ve just spoken with someone special to all Cormyreans, and learned about your superb service to the king. Nantha, I’m so proud of you. All the realm should be thanking you, and yet can never know what you’re doing, but I must thank you. And pray you keep safe. And thank you again!
Oh, Florin.
Narantha’s flood of affection was like a warm rush, so strong that it left Horaundoon’s mouth dry. He blinked; Bane and Mystra, he was squirming in his chair!
His influence over Narantha via the mindworm in her head was well-nigh perfect! He felt delight to match Narantha’s own, now surging through him…
Gods, this was hard work. Pleasant, thanks to this wench’s emotions, but-best ended now.
Narantha, the wizard wilts. I must go. I love you.
And I you, Florin. And I, you!
Horaundoon broke the link and found himself drenched with sweat, the hargaunt rippling and quivering across his face. He smiled and reached for his glass.
The success of his deception and the efficacy of his control were both worth toasting.
“And,” he told the hargaunt triumphantly, “while we’re gloating anyhail, it will soon be time to send the oh-
