professional. I’d persecute them myself if the price was right.”
Nicos looked slightly taken aback. “Well, the fact is, we need someone to keep order and protect them. Even the war hero, who in large measure shares the common bias against them, agrees. And we can’t depend on the city guards to do it, because they hate wizards too. So I offered to hire the Brotherhood of the Griffon at my own expense.”
“To take up the slack for the watch? My lord, we’re soldiers!”
“I understand that.”
“Actually, this would be worse than simply filling in for the watch in normal times. Our job would be to stand between the mob and the people they hate. It wouldn’t be long before they hated us too.”
“You have my word that this isn’t the only reason I brought you to Chessenta, although frankly-in light of your arcane abilities and dubious reputation-it is the only task Shala Karanok is willing to entrust to you. But if you prove yourself, that will change. Once the city calms down, she’ll give me permission to send you to the border or the coast. Where you’ll find your work more congenial and, no doubt, with ample opportunities for plunder.”
“Just as soon as I live down my ‘dubious reputation,’ ” Aoth said bitterly.
Not long before, it had been as bright as that of any sellsword commander in the East. But then the previous year, he’d broken a contract for the first time ever and fought his former employers, the Simbarchs of Aglarond. Then he’d spearheaded the forces of the Wizards’ Reach in a costly and seemingly failed invasion of Thay, losing many of his own men in the process. And then-
“You have to admit,” Nicos said, his tone mild, “what happened in Impiltur doesn’t inspire confidence.”
“What happened in Impiltur,” Aoth said, gritting his teeth, “was not my fault or the fault of anyone under my command. There was a band of demon worshipers marauding in the north. More a rabble of madmen than a proper army or even a proper gang of brigands, but there were a lot of them, they had actual demons fighting among them, and they were doing a great deal of harm. The Brotherhood marched out to hunt them, and so did Baron Kremphras with his household troops. He and I agreed that whoever found the enemy first would notify the other, and then we’d trap the bastards together.
“Well, my scouts found them first, and learned they meant to massacre a nearby farming village at the dark of the moon. I sent a messenger to let Kremphras know there was just enough time to intercept them, and that if he brought his force to a certain position, we could catch the advancing cultists between us. He sent back word that he would.”
“So what happened?” Nicos asked.
Aoth laughed without mirth. “You’ve probably guessed. The demon worshipers came, and the count didn’t. We Brothers of the Griffon had to fight them by ourselves, and it cost us dearly. Still, I think we would have won anyway, except that creatures came out of nowhere to attack our flank.”
“What sort of creatures?”
“In the dark and the confusion, it was hard to tell. Some, I think, were drakes, and others kobolds. There may even have been a true dragon spitting some sort of caustic slime. Whatever they were, I had the feeling the cultists were as surprised to see them as we were. But they were happy to accept their aid, and once they did, we couldn’t hold. We had to retreat or we all would have died.”
“It sounds like you were lucky you were even able to retreat.”
“I still don’t understand why the enemy allowed it. But once we opened up the path to the village, the reptiles and such simply melted back into the night, and the cultists rushed on in to butcher the farmers.” Aoth recalled the screams and the inhuman laughter, the leaping flames and the smell of burning flesh, and a pang of nausea twisted his guts.
“And how did it fall out,” Nicos asked, “that you bore the blame?”
“Kremphras claimed he marched to the wrong spot because my message wasn’t clear. That makes sense, doesn’t it? After all, I’ve only been a soldier for a hundred years. Scarcely time enough to learn how to give simple instructions. But he’s a peer of the realm, and I’m just a renegade Thayan who came to Impiltur with an already tarnished name. So the Grand Council believed him. They blamed the massacre on my incompetence and terminated my contract.”
“Their foolishness was my good fortune.”
Aoth grunted. “I still lie awake nights wondering why it happened. Kremphras wasn’t an imbecile to misunderstand a simple dispatch, and I didn’t take him for a coward who’d shirk battle. Was he a demon worshiper himself, out to sabotage the campaign? And what was the other force that attacked us?” Suddenly he felt tired. “At this point, I don’t suppose I’ll ever know.”
“Probably not. So you’d be wise to focus on your new opportunity.”
“With respect, my lord, if your emissary had been clear as to precisely what that opportunity was, I might well have passed.”
Nicos’s mouth tightened. “No, you wouldn’t. You needed a new source of coin, you needed to get out of a realm where you’d become unwelcome, and who else was offering to hire sellswords in the dead of winter? Look, I’ve indulged you. I’ve listened to your grumbling. Now tell me whether you mean to pledge to me or not. If not, I suppose the cogs are still docked where you left them. Just don’t expect me to pay your passage this time around.”
Aoth took a deep breath. “I won’t consent to having my palm tattooed. Nor will Jhesrhi, my wizard.” His sole remaining wizard. Two of her assistants had survived the desperate foray into Thay only to perish in Impiltur.
“I can understand that,” the nobleman replied. “In fact, I anticipated it. The war hero is willing to agree to a temporary dye.”
“Well, I’m not. I can’t exert authority wearing the mark of a pariah. You’re a leader yourself. You know it’s so.”
Nicos grimaced. “All right. I’ll persuade her somehow.”
“In that case, my lord, the Brotherhood of the Griffon is at your service.”
Jhesrhi Coldcreek wrapped herself in her charcoal-colored cloak, pulled up the cowl, reached for the door handle… and froze.
She silently cursed herself for her timidity. This isn’t even where it happened, she thought. But this was where it had begun.
She jerked the handle and yanked the door open. Gaedynn and Khouryn Skulldark were just coming up the night-darkened street.
The lanky, foppish redhead carried his longbow, and the burly, black-bearded dwarf had his urgrosh-a battle- axe with a spike projecting from the butt-slung over his back. But neither wore armor or the scarlet tabards proclaiming them auxiliary members of the watch. That was because the three of them had decided to take a closer look at Luthcheq, and they were apt to see more if the inhabitants didn’t realize who they were.
Khouryn smiled at her. “No staff?” he asked.
“No point proclaiming she’s a wizard,” Gaedynn said, “not when we’re just supposed to be three friends out for a ramble. Actually, I was thinking of putting you on stilts. Some Chessentans don’t care for dwarves either. They suspect you of practicing earth magic, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
Khouryn spat. “I can’t believe this wretched job is the only one the captain could find. We beat Szass Tam himself! Well, sort of. We saved the East!”
“But alas,” Gaedynn said, “most people haven’t heard the story and wouldn’t believe it if they did. Anyway, this might not be so bad. Think of all the satisfaction you’ll derive from breaking the knees of the dwarf-haters.” He waved a hand to the narrow, unpaved street. “Shall we?”
They started walking. Gaedynn put himself on Jhesrhi’s left, and Khouryn stationed himself on her right. Both knew her quirks and kept far enough away to ensure they wouldn’t accidentally brush up against her.
The night was cold, and the houses looming to either side were dark and quiet, closed up tight. They reminded Jhesrhi of cities besieged by plague.
“Generally,” Khouryn said, “when a town has a wizards’ quarter, it’s full of interesting things to see. Of course, the wizards usually don’t live in mortal fear of provoking the neighbors. Are you sure you don’t mind being billeted here? We could find you someplace cheerier.”
