were assumed by the elder on watch to have been either allies, or harmless. I guess the elder on watch was mistaken.
Scanning the residue of slaughter, Volo thought he recognized one of the corpses. He was about to stoop to get a closer look when he barely saw a moving blur out of the corner of his eye, and reacted in a second, raising his dagger to a defensive posture.
He was half a second too slow.
The master traveler felt the coolness of a steel blade against his windpipe, and heard an authoritative voice say, 'Drop it, or breathe blood.'
Realizing he had no alternative if he wished to live long enough to get to the bottom of the bloodbath, and to eventually complete his guide to the Moonsea, Volo dropped his dagger, and prepared to do whatever the other visitor to the Retreat requested.
He felt the blade pressing harder against his throat.
In the High Blade's study in the Tower of the Wyvern:
The High Blade rose late that morning, having spent a strenuous night with the Thayan serpent that months ago he had accepted as his wife. He sought out the privacy of his study as he wished to avoid all of the court, social, and political commitments that occurred whenever he and his consort were reunited. Though he was more than aware of the necessity of such obligations and functions, he nonetheless desired time to more adequately formulate his plans against his she-devil wife who had sought to neutralize him. Wishing a report on his most important prisoner, Selfaril sent for Rickman.
The captain of the Hawks responded immediately.
'You summoned, sire,' said the one-eyed Hawk.
'How is my brother?' the High Blade inquired, not making eye contact with his second in command.
'As you left him, my lord,' Rickman responded, surprised at Selfaril's use of the moniker. 'My man in the Cloaks informs me that, given normal circumstances, the mask should have dampened all of his magical abilities to non-existence by now. He is now no more of a mage than either you or I.'
'What a pity for him after all of those years of study,' Selfaril observed in an emotionless monotone.
'Of course, the mask also serves the other purpose of obscuring his identity from prying eyes, as you yourself planned, sire,' added Rickman.
'So that no one will ever know that I have a brother,' the High Blade interrupted, completing the thought of his right-hand man, and once again surprising the Hawk with his use of the fraternal label. Changing the subject, Selfaril said, 'You know Rickman, for most people, family is their main source of comfort and survival. I, on the other hand, never knew my mother, killed my father, have imprisoned my brother, and am plotted against by my wife.'
'Most people are inferior pawns whose very existence is only validated for as long as they are useful to superior men such as yourself, High Blade,' Rickman asserted.
'Indeed,' Selfaril agreed absently.
Rickman remained in place, waiting for the High Blade to issue new orders, but Selfaril remained silent, as if preoccupied with other matters. Growing uncomfortable with his master's prolonged silence, the captain of the Hawks hazarded a question.
'Your majesty,' Rickman inquired cautiously, 'have you confronted the Tharchioness with your discovery of her conspiracy yet?'
'No,' Selfaril answered quickly, snapping out of his preoccupied malaise. 'I haven't finished planning how to turn it to my greatest advantage yet. Ideally I would like to use it to rid the city of all of those diplomatically immune wizards she has seen fit to bring here, exempting them from my control, while sending an occupational force to Eltabbar to exert our own battery of diplomatic influence. As you no doubt realize, this is more than just a wife wishing to kill her husband. This is war.'
Rickman was surprised at the recent amount of anger and emotion the High Blade had made evident. What had started out as a political chess game with what was initially considered to be a worthy opponent had quickly escalated into a ruthless shadow war. Rickman was in a quandary as to what he should offer to do next.
'Should I have some of my men arrange for the removal-permanent or locational-of the Tharchioness?' he inquired.
'Not just yet,' the High Blade answered. 'We must play this situation very delicately.'
'What if I were to send two of my men back to the Retreat to investigate the unfortunate slaughter of that order of contemplative mages. They could discover the Thayan wand that was left behind, and report it to their immediate superiors who would then pass this discovery up through the chain of command…'
'And with gossip being what it is in the lower ranks, passing out into the unwashed masses as well.'
'Indeed, sire,' Rickman agreed. 'Maiden rumor will spread, fermenting public outrage against the Thayan murderers. I will have Wattrous and Jembahb dispatched immediately. Neither of them are known for their discretion.'
'Indeed.'
'In regards to rumor, sire,' Rickman continued. 'Wouldn't it be wise to remove any threat of it interfering with our plans?'
'To what do you refer?'
'The prisoner, sire,' the Hawk captain explained cautiously. 'Though his appearance is obscured, he can still talk. Perhaps he should be further isolated from the other prisoners in the dungeon.'
Selfaril shook his head and chuckled.
'I really don't think that is necessary. A trip to the dungeon is a one-way journey for the hopeless, penniless, and terminally unfortunate. What are the odds of someone getting out, and even at that, what of it?'
Rickman became quite serious.
'Through my sources, I have learned that the prisoner in the cell next to your brother was released yesterday. An unemployed actor I believe.'
'What of it? If he heard anything at all it was the ravings of a madman. I find very little reason to fear an unemployed actor who probably knows nothing, nor anyone, of importance.'
'Just the same, your majesty, I would like to assign one of my spies to keep an eye on him, at least until your plan has come to fruition.'
'Fine, fine,' Selfaril responded. 'Spy on him, kill him, whatever you desire. Just don't waste my time with it.'
'Yes, your majesty,' the captain of the Hawks answered dutifully. 'And the Tharchioness? Does the same hold true for her?'
'No, Rickman,' the High Blade responded with a lascivious grin as he recalled the night before. 'I'm not quite finished playing with her just yet.'
In the chambers of the First Princess of Thay in the Tower of the Wyvern:
'Your majesty,' the fearful ambassador hesitantly interrupted the Tharchioness's late morning meal. She had awakened to find her husband already departed from their bed, and was not in a very good mood at all.
'What is it, worm?' she spat back with the venom of a recently disturbed cobra.
'You requested an update, your majesty… from our spies?'
The beautifully evil Tharchioness stood up, towering over the gelatinous bulge of her obsequious ambassador, spitting back: 'And?'
'Well, your majesty,' the ambassador replied, trying to maintain some composure while averting his eyes from hers, only to find them now locked on the satin V of her gown, and the ample breast that rested behind it. 'Rumor has it that a group of riders were seen outside Southroad Keep on the early morning after the night of the abduction. Other sources indicate that there is a new prisoner in the keep's dungeon.'
'Has anyone been dispatched to verify the identity of this prisoner?'
'Yes, y-y-y-your majesty,' the ambassador stuttered, 'but according to an easily bribed guard named Smagler, he is just a madman.'
'And you trusted an easily bribed guard named Smagler to know the truth about an exceptionally sensitive matter like the imprisonment of the High Blade's own twin brother?' she barked, ready to arrange for the cowering
