Unclean

before.

Not that justice was a concept that automatically sprang to mind where zulkirs and Red Wizards were concerned.

Aoth and his superior strode in dour silence through yellow and orange high-ceilinged chambers lit by countless devotional fires. The heat of the flames became oppressive, and the wizard evoked the magic of a tattoo to cool himself. Nymia lacked the ability to do the same, and perspiration gleamed on her upper lip.

Eventually they arrived at high double doors adorned with a scene inlaid in jewels and precious metals: Kossuth, spiked chain in hand, smiting his great enemy Istishia, King of the Water Elementals. A pair of warrior monks stood guard at the sides of the portal and swung the leaves open to permit the new arrivals to enter the room beyond.

It was a chamber plainly intended for discussion and disputation, though it too had its whispering altar flames glinting on golden icons. Seated around a table in the center of the room was a more imposing gathering of dignitaries than Aoth had ever seen before even at a distance, let alone close up. Let alone taking any notice of his own humble existence. In fact, four of the five were zulkirs.

Gaunt, dark-eyed Szass Tam, his withered fingers folded, looked calm and composed.

Yaphyll, zulkir of Divination and by all accounts the lich's most reliable ally, was a slender woman, somewhat short for a Mulan, with, rather to Aoth's surprise, a humorous, impish cast of expression manifest even on this grave occasion. She looked just a little older than he was, thirty or so, but she had actually held her office since before he was born with magic maintaining her youth.

In contrast, Lallara, zulkir of Abjuration, though still seemingly hale and vital, evidently disdained the cosmetic measures which might have kept time from etching lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth and softening the flesh beneath her chin. Scowling, she toyed with one of her several rings, twisting it around and around her forefinger.

Astonishingly obese, his begemmed robes the gaudiest and plainly the costliest of the all the princely raiment on display, Samas Kul likewise appeared restless. Perhaps he disliked being called away from the celebration of his rise to a zulkir's preeminence, or maybe the newly minted mage-lord was worried he wouldn't make a good impression here at the onset of his new responsibilities and so lose the respect of his peers.

Rounding out the assembly was Iphegor Nath. Few indeed were the folk who could treat with zulkirs on anything even approximating an equal footing, but the High Flamelord, primate of Kossuth's church, was one of them. Craggy and burly, he wore bright orange vestments, the predominant hue close enough to forbidden red that no man of humbler rank would have dared to put it on. His eyes were orange as well, with a fiery light inside them, and from moment to moment tiny flames crawled on his shoulders, arms, and shaven scalp without burning his garments or blistering his skin. His air of sardonic composure was a match for Szass Tam's.

Nymia and Aoth dropped to their knees and lowered their gazes.

'Rise,' said Szass Tam, 'and seat yourselves at the table.'

'Is that necessary?' Lallara rapped. 'I'm not pleased with the tharchion, and her lieutenant doesn't even wear red. By the looks of him, he isn't even Mulan.'

'It will make it easier for us all to converse,' the lich replied, 'and if we see fit to punish them later, I doubt that the fact that we allowed them to sit down first will dilute the effect.' His black eyes shifted back to Nymia and Aoth, and he waved a shriveled hand at two vacant chairs. 'Please.'

Aoth didn't want to sit or do anything else that might elicit Lallara's displeasure, but neither, of course, could he disobey Szass Tam. Feeling trapped, he pulled the chair out and winced inwardly when the legs grated on the floor.

'Now, then,' said Szass Tam, 'with the gracious permission of His Omniscience'-he inclined his head to Iphegor Nath-'I called you all here to address the situation in Tharchion Focar's dominions. It's serious, or so I've been given to understand.'

'Yet evidently not serious enough,' the High Flamelord drawled, 'to warrant an assembly of all eight zulkirs. To some, it might even appear that you, Your Omnipotence, wanted to meet here in the temple instead of your own citadel to avoid the notice of those you chose to exclude.'

Yaphyll smiled a mischievous smile. 'Perhaps it was purely out of respect for you, Your Omniscience. We came to you rather than put you to the inconvenience of coming to us.'

Iphegor snorted. Blue flame oozed from his hand onto the tabletop, and he squashed it out with a fingertip before it could char the finish.

'You're correct, of course,' Szass Tam told the priest. 'Regrettably, we zulkirs fall into two camps, divided by our differing perspectives on trade and other issues, and of late, our squabbles have grown particularly contentious, perhaps even to the point of assassination. That makes it slow going to accomplish anything when we all attempt to work together, and since this particular problem is urgent, I thought a more efficient approach was required.'

'Besides which,' Iphegor said, 'if you resolve the problem without involving your peers, you'll reap all the benefits of success. The nobles and such will be that much more inclined to give their support to you in preference to Aznar Thrul's cabal.'

'Just so,' said Samas Kul in a plummy, unctuous voice. 'You've demonstrated you're a shrewd man, Your Omniscience, not that any of us ever imagined otherwise. The question is, if we score a hit in the game we're playing with our rivals, will that trouble or displease you?'

'It might,' the primate said. 'By convening here in the Flaming Brazier and including me among your company, you've made me your collaborator. Now it's possible I'll have to contend with the rancor of your opponents.'

'Yet you agreed to meet with us,' Lallara said.

Iphegor shrugged. 'I was curious, I hoped something would come of it to benefit the faith, and I too understand that Pyarados needs immediate attention.'

'Masters!' Nymia said. All eyes shifted to her, and she faltered as if abruptly doubting the wisdom of speaking unbidden, but now that she'd started, she had no choice but to continue. 'With all respect, you speak as if Pyarados is lost, and that isn't so. The undead seized one minor fortress and won one additional battle.'

'With the result,' snapped Lallara, 'that they're now devastating your tharch and could easily range farther west to trouble the entire plateau.'

'The ghouls have overrun a few farms,' Nymia insisted, the sweat on her face gleaming in the firelight. 'I still hold Pyarados,'-Aoth realized she was referring specifically to the capital city of her province-'and I've sent to Tharchion Daramos for assistance. He's bringing fresh troops from Thazalhar.'

Yaphyll smiled. 'Milsantos Daramos is a fine soldier, a winning soldier, and Thazalhar is too small and sparsely populated for a proper tharch. I wonder if it might not be a good idea to merge it and Pyarados into a single territory and give the old fellow authority over both.'

Nymia blanched. 'I beg you for one more chance-'

Szass Tam silenced her by holding up his hand. 'Let's not rush ahead of ourselves. I'd like to hear a full account of the events in the east before we decide what to do about them.'

'Aoth Fezim,' Nymia said, 'is the only man to survive the fall of Thazar Keep. For that reason, I brought him to tell the first part of the story.'

Aoth related it as best he could, without trying to inflate his own valor or importance. He made sure, though, that the others understood he'd fled only when the castellan had ordered it and not out of cowardice.

Then Nymia told of the battle at the west end of the pass, justifying her defeat as best she could. That involved explaining that forms of undead had appeared whose existence Aoth had not reported and that neither he nor the other scouts had noticed the creatures swimming beneath the surface of the river. The griffon rider wasn't sure if she was actually implying that he was responsible for everything that had gone wrong or if it was simply his trepidation that made it seem that way.

When she finished, Szass Tam studied Aoth's face. 'Do you have anything to add to your commander's account?' he asked.

Partly out of pride, partly because he was all but certain it would only move the zulkirs to scorn, Aoth resisted the urge to offer excuses. 'No, Your Omnipotence. That's the way it happened.'

The lich nodded. 'Well, obviously, victorious soldiers inspire more trust than defeated ones, yet I wouldn't call either of you incompetent, and I don't see a benefit to replacing you with warriors who lack experience fighting this particular incursion. I'm inclined to keep you in your positions for the time being at least, provided, of course, that