Deltalon and ordered him to use 'all slow, deft care possible' to kill the mindworms still in the heads of a handful of remaining nobles.
Lorbryn Deltalon was a careful, loyal Wizard of War, and several other things besides, but he had never been a fool.
Vangerdahast, he strongly suspected, hadn't killed a single worm. Instead, the Royal Magician had altered their spell-bindings to make them obey him rather than the fell and vanished wizard who'd compelled Narantha to spread the little horrors. And, no doubt, he had commanded them not to gnaw away any more of the brains in which they dwelt.
In other words, Vangey had spent a little less than three tendays crafting a small army of nobles whose minds he could control whenever he desired-for the good of the realm, of course.
The few nobles he'd deemed the least useful-or perhaps judged any meddling with them would be suspected and sought after by wizards hired by their noble kin-he'd assigned to Lorbryn Deltalon for curing.
Deltalon knew he should be flattered. The Royal Magician absolutely trusted the loyalty of rather less than a handful of his Wizards of War-or anyone else. Laspeera, yes, and… well, perhaps no one else but Lorbryn Deltalon.
Yet therein lay the problem. For some time Deltalon had harbored growing misgivings about Vangerdahast's mental stability and loyalties.
The Royal Magician grew ever more glib and self-satisfied as bodies fell and rotted, years passed, and the realm endured.
A realm shaped more and more to Vangerdahast's liking. In the humble opinion of Lorbryn Deltalon-an opinion held only within the deep mind-shielding spell he'd found in a tomb all those years ago and ever since had kept secret from the Royal Magician and everyone else-Vangerdahast was increasingly likely to convince himself that only he was capable of ruling Cormyr for the good of all.
He might already have reached that conclusion. Wherefore Lorbryn Deltalon watched the royal family of Cormyr very carefully.
Sooner or later, if Vangerdahast was so deeply corrupted, he would work spells to make the Obarskyrs mere puppets, or have them eliminated-by 'enemies of the realm' of course-so he could 'reluctantly' take the throne.
Others held similar suspicions. Several of the elder nobles did so openly, daring Vangerdahast to confront them. The Wizards of War watched and listened to such nobles even more attentively than they spied on the other highborn of the realm-wherefore Deltalon and most other war wizards knew that many who suspected Vangerdahast of seeking the throne had found reassurance in the rebelliousness of the young Princess Alusair and Vangey's seeming tolerance for her willful nature.
Privately, Deltalon held a much darker view. In his opinion, Vangey was encouraging the tantrums and defiant escapades of the younger princess-and thereby happily allowing his grounds for a future argument (that the Obarskyrs had become unfit to continue ruling) to grow ever stronger.
'For the good of Cormyr,' Deltalon murmured, staring unseeingly through the notes on the table before him. He didn't want to think such thoughts. He didn't want to do this. Yet, for the good of Cormyr…
His lips twisted at that irony, but he found himself nodding and bringing one of his hands, clenched into a fist, down-slowly and softly-to strike the table. Deep reluctance would claw him with tireless talons, but he could stride on.
He, Lorbryn Deltalon, must make these last two nobles his own mind-slaves. Just in case. And he must do it deftly' enough that Vangerdahast must not suspect the worms were in stasis rather than dead, and the nobles would have no inkling of what he'd done. Until the day came-and by the Dragon Throne, let it never come! — when he found it needful to awaken the worms and enthrall the two. Just two, not the dozen-some the Royal Magician commanded. Of course. Hadn't Vangerdahast had years upon years longer than he to become truly evil and self- serving? Able villainy takes practice…
He was strong enough to do this now. For the good of Cormyr.
No longer would he have to trust in a deep shielding spell that faded over time and needed to be cast anew. Now, he had the elfstone.
Small, pale, egg-smooth, and far more ancient than Cormyr. Deltalon had found the gem hidden beneath stones under poor old Ondel's rain barrel, when sent to investigate that archwizard's murder.
Deltalon had carefully neglected to mention it in his report to Vangerdahast, and he'd swallowed it that same night. It remained safely inside him, magically nudged out of his stomach into adjacent tissue, to lodge there behind rehealed skin, hopefully forever.
Ondel had almost certainly recovered it from the hoard of Sundraer the She-dragon-whom he had loved and been loved by, when she took human form-after her death.
Elves had fashioned and enspelled the stone long, long ago. Just which elves, where, and how, he would probably never know. It was enough to know this much: Lorbryn Deltalon could now cloak his innermost thoughts and memories from any mind-probe, spinning false memories at will to deceive Vangey's mind readings.
So if he was careful enough, deep shielding or no deep shielding, Vangey would never know what Deltalon thought of him-or what his oh-so-loyal Wizard of War was up to.
Hmph. Those secrets would be among the very few things afoot in the realm that Vangerdahast did not know all about.
Yes. It was high time the Forest Kingdom was protected against its sworn, too-powerful, far-too-tyrannical protector. A check on Vangerdahast's might; a first small step toward finding a balance.
Smiling ever so faintly, Lorbryn Deltalon gathered his notes together, rose, and headed for the door on the other side of which Malasko Erdusking waited fearfully.
One more scared noble, who'd forgotten what nobles must never be allowed to forget: For the good of Cormyr, we must all sacrifice a little.
'More wine,' Rhallogant murmured to himself. 'That's what I need, just now.'
Yet he put off seeking it to continue pondering, not wanting to lose his quickening path of thought.
The Obarskyrs and their bootlicking Wizards of War worked tirelessly to rein in and frustrate the powers of all nobles. Everyone knew that.
Most nobles considered that reason enough to justify any amount of treason against the Dragon Throne, and Rhallogant Caladanter was proud to count himself among their number.
Getting caught meant an unpleasant death. Short of such cap-tute, anything done to frustrate the decadent royals and the lawlessly skulking mages who served the tyrant Vangerdahast-the true ruler of Cormyr-could only be a service to the realm and all Cormyreans henceforth. long after Vangerdahast had been shamed and executed, the philandering King Azoun and his icy queen swept into 'accidental' graves, and their two wayward daughters married off to nobles fit to lead the Forest Kingdom, Rhallogant Caladanter had every intention of happily standing among those 'all Cormyreans henceforth.' With gold coins bulging in his coffers and the good regard of fair ladies all across Suzail.
A little treason was a small price to pay for such a bright life in a brighter realm.
Few even among the nobility knew who he was, yet. The son of a minor upland noble, Rhallogant was young and only recently ascended to his title-and hadn't intended to be anything more than a wild young blade, enjoying the amusements of Sembia and perhaps Westgate or even fabled Waterdeep, for years yet. His father's trusty Firelord had changed all that early one morning; the war-horse had thrown Lord Caladanter and then had fallen and rolled on his longtime master.
Rhallogant intended to be a trifle more subtle than Fire-lord had been. For a long time he'd idly contemplated treason against the Dragon Throne-but like most young highborn schemers, he had done nothing but contemplate and talk over his contemplations with other nobles of like age and opinions, over copious fine wine.
Such indiscretions, albeit trifling, made Rhallogant wince now. Just how well did the war wizards know him?
He was far from the only noble thoroughly frightened by the fates of the Lords Eldroon and Yellander- vanished and widely rumored to have died under prolonged magical torment at the hands of the Royal Magician-and of Lord Maniol Crownsilver, also now gone from public view and said to have become a suicidal, empty husk of a man under the constant care of ever-vigilant priests and war wizards. Yet Vangey's skulkers would doubtless deal
