'Indeed, the ritual of the ring,' Cynthia said simply. 'But I see that the folds of your cloak hide something interesting as well. Here, let me see your hands.'
She extended her arms across the table and Alodar placed his hands in hers.
'Your hands are scarred,' she said. 'What manner of labor do you perform for the Guild?'
'The same as always given to the newest of the neophytes,' Alodar answered. 'The marks are there because I have practiced at arms.'
'Not only practiced, I see,' Cynthia said, running her hands along Alodar's forearm, fingertips gently rippling over the token from some of Cedric's instruction. She looked deeply into Alodar's eyes.
'You must tell me sometime of the adventures that gave you these,' she said. 'A tale of arms would be a most welcome change from those of magic, which is our steady diet.'
Alodar opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, enjoying the pleasure of her contact. He tried to picture Vendora and compare her beauty, but the image was faded as if seen through the magician's curtain. He struggled to remember her as she looked in the dungeon of Iron Fist when they first met or later in the keep just as the walls finally fell. The queen was a stunning beauty, but how exactly her face was different from Cynthia's he could not tell. He sighed at the blankness and almost instinctively began to withdraw his arm.
Cynthia turned her hand over and playfully stroked the back against his. To his surprise, he felt a small nodule of hardness in the middle of the smooth skin.
'It appears the work of the initiate is also not only of the mind,' he said.
'That is the mark of all who advance beyond the level of the neophyte,' Cynthia replied. 'When they stoked the branding iron with the small disk into the furnace on the day of my initiation ritual, I fainted dead away. When I awoke, my hand was bandaged and I was cloaked in the robe of white, free to roam the hall of the initiates. Several weeks later, only the little circle of scar tissue remained.'
'And what true significance does it have?' Alodar asked.
'Who can tell?' Cynthia said. 'So much of the initiation ritual is merely tradition from years gone by. I have no call to be reminded of it in my instruction since.'
Before the conversation could continue, the murmuring of the crowd began to rise in anticipation and Alodar turned to view the small stage at the other end of the room. The curtain behind parted and a minstrel walked forward. He strummed a chord on his strings and waited for silence before beginning.
'The lava ran hot, fierce and glowing.
The fumes alone scurried the lesser men back,
But to the queen he had pledged the gems
So into the tunnels stomped mighty Rendrac.
'Knee deep in liquid fire he struggled
To the very heart of the smoking mountain;
In a sparkling pool of rich treasure
He stuffed his pack from the cascading fountain.'
Alodar blinked in amazement as the ballad droned on. It was all there in traditional saga form. The brave hero setting out alone against overwhelming odds. By his mighty prowess he secured a treasure for his queen but, alas, perished in the deed. A hundred years from now more verses and embellishments would be added so that the true event could not be fathomed by the wisest from the telling.
The crowd showed its approval at the conclusion and then buzzed with the gossip the ballad had evoked.
'They say that his mentor truly reaps the benefits of his great labor.' Camphonel spoke for the first time. 'He rode into Ambrosia in magnificent style, tossing small gems like pebbles into the crowd. To the queen he presented a necklace of huge stones, with an emerald nearly fist size for the pendant. Vendora postponed her betrothal to some other outland lordling, and now Basil is in her company everywhere. But she craftily does not choose him over the other. Instead, she delights in their daily struggle for her favor.'
Not one suitor but two! Alodar looked down at his brown robe and sighed softly. He shook his head and focused his attention on the conversation still bouncing around him.
'A lack of definition on the politics to the north!' Hypeton swore. 'Their ways degenerate further with each passing year. Thanks be to the permutations that keep the Guild out of such pettiness.'
'Your ear is as sensitive as your tongue, Hypeton,' Cynthia said. 'The Guild deals with struggles of power as much as any principality. Why the entire esplanade is talking of nothing else. The next council meeting is an extraordinary one called by Lectonil. It will be the real test between his faction and that of Beliac.'
'And how do you see the outcome?' Alodar asked.
'The talk is mainly fueled by rumor, with no substance one way or the other,' Cynthia replied, 'but I think that Beliac feels the pressure of time to be against his ideas. He seeks to get votes by other means than those of cold logic. Else why would he beseech me to show certain favors to one of the less committed masters? Why, I wager that if a means of persuasion were presented to him, he might even traffic a neophyte.'
'Of course,' Alodar said. He quickly slid from the bench and headed through the night back to the tower of the neophytes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Unfettered Dragon
ALODAR pushed aside the twig and peered out at the acolyte standing at rigid attention in the hot sun. He reached down to the small wax figure at his side and deftly drew the lips apart in a ghoulish grin. Duncan's features responded in kind, although his cheeks trembled from the strain of trying to break the grip which held him.
Alodar looked down the path and saw Beliac's slow approach to the library's entrance, his chin deep on his chest and every step reluctant.
As the magician passed, Alodar removed the cork from the flask and grimaced at the foul odor which arose from it. With a sweeping motion, he tipped his head back and downed its contents, feeling a raw, rasping sting all the way down to his stomach. His throat would be monstrously sore for a week afterwards, he knew, but Saxton's craft was never particularly concerned about the aftereffects of its potent brews.
Beliac drew abreast of the immobile acolyte and Alodar pursed his lips to speak.
'Good riddance, pompous windbag,' Duncan seemed to say. 'I hope they see fit to take back the robe of black as well as denounce your ideas.' The voice was high and sluggish, Alodar thought, but no one would doubt that Duncan had spoken. The elixir of ventriloquism worked well indeed.
Beliac stopped his pacing and looked up in disbelief. 'Well move along,' Alodar projected. 'You may as well get it over with.'
'See here, acolyte,' Beliac replied. 'The affairs of the chamber are no concern of yours, in spite of what you have surmised from our previous converse. And mark you well, regardless of what happens there, I will emerge with the unbroken circle on my robe still, more than a match for any acolyte in the Guild, no matter how lofty an opinion he holds of himself. None of your station dare address me thus.'
'And in truth you are correct, O sage,' Alodar said in his own voice as he stepped from his hiding place and out onto the walkway. 'By a combination of the arts of thaumaturgy and alchemy, I made appear what was not so. Acolyte Duncan, of course, never of his own free will would make such statements.'
'Then it is you, neophyte, who will feel the wrath of my punishment when I have time to deal with the matter,' Beliac snapped in reply. 'What is your name and station within the Guild?'
'My demonstration was for a most pointed purpose,' Alodar persisted. 'I believe that you have a need for the control of another's voice and posture within the very next hour. That I can offer to you.'
Beliac's eyes brightened with comprehension. 'Ah, what you say is true, most clever lad. Quickly now, inform me of the ritual by which this is done and I will reward you in due proportion.'
'As I have said,' Alodar replied. 'It is not of magic, but the other arts. I must be present to perform, else it cannot become so.'
'A neophyte in the apex. Unthinkable!' Beliac growled. 'Give me the ritual or face my wrath on the spot.'
'My presence or nothing,' Alodar said coldly looking into the angered eyes of the magician. 'Decide now or let
