dry and burning. He rubbed them and called, 'Come in.'
A skinny, freckle-faced boy entered, balancing a tray with one hand while using the other to manage the door. Was it suppertime already? It must be, because the sky beyond the window was red, and the spicy aroma of the roast pork made Malark's stomach gurgle.
The boy looked around. The room was spacious and adequately furnished, but maps, books, ledgers, and heaps of parchment covered almost every horizontal surface.
Malark shifted a stack of paper onto the floor, clearing the corner of a table. 'You can set it here.'
'Yes, sir.' The servant placed the tray as requested, then turned as something caught his eye. Head cocked forward, he stepped closer to the largest map in the chamber, a representation of Thay and neighboring lands painted on a tabletop. A person could scrawl notes on it with chalk or set miniature figures atop it to represent armies and fleets, and Malark had done both. The southern tokens were pewter, and the northern, brass.
He could understand why the display might intrigue a child, but the servant had no business scrutinizing state secrets. 'You'd better run along now,' Malark said.
The boy shifted a little pewter griffon. 'You're well informed. I can add a few lines to the story the map tells, but only a few. Your griffon riders destroyed the north's primary manufactory for the creation of undead and then withdrew successfully from High Thay.'
He picked up a stick of turquoise chalk. 'Just last night, blue fire melted Anhaurz, killing all within.' He drew an X through the city. 'The ruins have a weird beauty about them.'
He set down the chalk, rubbed his fingertips together to brush off the dust, and moved a pair of ships. 'Thessaloni Canos and her men made it to the Wizard's Reach and secured both Escalant and Laothkund for the council.
'In short, it's the same story everywhere. Despite the inconveniences of waves of blue flame, earthquakes, wizardry misbehaving, and dangerous new animals rampaging around, southern armies are winning victory after victory, and I give much of the credit to you, Goodman Springhill, and your network of agents.'
Malark swallowed. 'Who are you?'
'Oh, I think you know. Once, I spoke with you and your comrades in a grove. I offered you my patronage, and you spurned me.'
'Szass Tam.'
'Say it softly, if you please, or better still, don't repeat it again at all. I'll tell you something I'd admit to few others. I'm not the mage I was before Mystra died and the Death Moon Orb blew up in my face. I've yet to recover the full measure of my strength, and I'm not eager to fight the entire Central Citadel. It was difficult enough just sneaking in here despite the wards Lallara and Iphegor Nath set to keep creatures like me out.'
'Why did you?'
The boy grinned widely enough to reveal he was missing a molar on the upper left. 'I've already told you, more or less. For ten years, you've played a key role in the war. If I'd realized just how important you were going to be, perhaps I would have killed you that evening in the wood. But I imagined it beneath me to destroy a person like you-meaning a man with no command of magic-with my own hands, especially when I'd entered your camp under sign of truce. Vanity and scruples are terrible things. They can cause all sorts of problems.'
Malark didn't have to glance around the room. He already knew where everything was, including his enchanted cudgels, hanging on a peg by the door. It seemed likely he was going to need them. He knew better than to batter the chill, poisonous flesh of a lich with his bare hands, even when the undead wizard had cloaked himself in the semblance of a living child.
Of course, even if he reached the batons, no sane person would give a shaved copper for his chances. It seemed that Death had forgiven his sins at last and stood ready to usher him into the blackness. He felt a thrill of anticipation.
'Please,' Szass Tam said, 'don't spring into action like the hero of some tawdry play.' It startled Malark that the necromancer knew he was about to move. 'I've never had the opportunity to study the fighting system you employ, and no doubt it would be interesting. But I'd prefer you not make a commotion, and I promise, there's no need. If I'd wanted to kill you, I could simply have poisoned your supper. Feel free to eat it, by the way. No point letting it get cold.'
Malark felt out of his depth. It wasn't a feeling to which he was accustomed, nor one he enjoyed. 'If I'm such a stone in your buskin, then why wouldn't you want to murder me?'
'Because it wouldn't accomplish anything. Before she ascended to greater things, Dmitra was a brilliant spymaster in her own right. If I eliminated you, she'd just pick up where you left off. What I need to do is bring you over to my side.'
'As you mentioned, I've already refused your offer of patronage.'
'So you did, and I daresay the events of the ensuing decade have given you no cause to regret it. Ordinary folk deplore the widespread loss of life the war produces, but a worshiper of Death must revel in it, and in the destruction produced by the blue fire as well. You must feel as giddy as a lad at his first carnival.'
Malark took a breath. 'I'm impressed. You've discovered something I haven't confided to anyone in a while.'
'Actually, monk of the Long Death, I've discovered everything. In desperation, with all my schemes unraveling, I employed divination to learn more about my adversaries. I don't mean Dmitra and the other zulkirs. I long ago learned all their sordid little secrets. I focused on those among their lieutenants who've done the most to hamper me.'
'If you really know everything about me, you know I regard the undead as affronts to the natural order of things. That's why I'd never come over to your side, no matter what you offered.'
The boy grinned. 'Never say never. If you'll consent to hear it, I'd like to share a story. Along the way, it will answer a question that's perplexed you for ten years. Why did I murder Druxus Rhym?'
The tale went on for a long time. The patch of sky beyond the window turned black. Stars flowered there, and shadow enfolded the chamber.
By the time he finished, Malark's heart was pounding. He swallowed and asked, 'Will it work?'
'I admit-Druxus doubted it, but I attribute that to a failure of imagination, because his own analysis suggested it would. I believe it will, and I'm generally considered the greatest wizard in Thay, which is to say, in the most magically advanced realm in all Faerыn. Of course, the only way to know for certain is to try. Will you help me put it to the test?'
CHAPTER SEVEN
26 Kythorn-11 Flamerule, the Year of Blue Fire
Nymia Focar ran her gaze over the mounted knights lined up before her, their lances rising straight and high, their fierce chargers standing submissive to their masters' wills, with scarcely a snort, a head toss, or the stamp of a hoof. She could scarcely help noticing which of the faces framed in the steel helms were particularly handsome, or wondering who might prove exceptionally virile if summoned to her tent. A woman had her appetites.
But Nymia indulged them at night. It was morning now, and she had an army to lead to its next engagement. If the gods continued to smile on her, that would yield its own satisfactions.
After the host that marched north from Zolum divided, she'd led her troops up the narrow strip of flatland between Lake Thaylambar and the foothills of the Sunrise Mountains, then west into Delhumide. So far, she'd encountered only feeble resistance, and had high hopes of taking Umratharos before Midsummer.
Satisfied with her inspection, she waved her arm, wheeled her destrier, and rode toward the road. Hooves clattered and harnesses jingled as her horsemen started after her, and a phalanx of spearmen took a first marching stride in unison. Griffons shrieked and lashed their wings, taking to the air.
Then a black bird swooped down from the sky, its plumage glinting in the morning sunlight. Nymia reined in her steed and raised her hand. Her army stumbled to a halt.
Many army commanders used pigeons as messenger birds, and accordingly, their foes watched for the
