when they fled.
No matter. This little ceremony was like the acclamation of the crowd. He could appreciate it for what it was.
He took the keys and said, 'Thank you. Now stand, Your Omniscience, and rest assured, a bow will suffice in the future.'
Zekith rose stiffly. 'Thank you, Your Omnipotence.'
Szass Tam smiled. 'It occurs to me that I may need a new title. Every zulkir is 'Your Omnipotence.' '
'On the other hand,' Malark said, 'you're the only one left.'
'Not yet,' said Szass Tam, 'but with luck, soon.'
Zekith took a deep breath. 'Master, I apologize. I tried to burn the fleet as you directed, but it didn't work out.'
'It's all right,' Szass Tam said. 'When one arrow misses, you shoot another, and happily, my quiver isn't empty yet. Now, I need someone to govern this place. Would you like to be autharch of Bezantur, with more honors to come if you do a good job?'
'I would.'
'Then you'll need these.' Szass Tam handed back the keys. 'Well, not really, but one good piece of mummery deserves another.'
'Yes, Your Omnipotence.'
'Your first task will be to see to the needs of my troops. Many have requirements and appetites that the citizens of Bezantur may find objectionable. But I want my warriors strong and satisfied that their commander takes good care of them. Up to a point, that means making sure no one interferes with them as they pursue their pleasures, but it would also be nice if the city was still standing tomorrow morning. Do you follow?'
'Yes, Master. I can strike the proper balance.'
'Then I leave the matter in your hands. My captains and I are going to look at the harbor.' He, Malark, the two tharchions, and an escort rode in that direction.
The waterfront still smelled of smoke, and small fires flickered here and there. The major conflagrations had reduced the vessels in dry dock to black, flaking shells, ready to crumble at a touch. The piers had burned until whatever remained of the walkways collapsed into the sea. Only the support posts remained, sticking up out of the waves.
Malark smiled a crooked smile. 'I'm afraid there isn't much harbor left to look at.'
Azhir glared at him. 'Is that how you acquired your reputation for cleverness? By stating the obvious?'
Szass Tam had already noticed that the tharchion of Gauros resented his newfound amity with a man, who, until recently, had been one of their most troublesome foes. He wished he could convince her that Malark had no interest in usurping her position. Unfortunately, she scarcely would have found an honest explanation of the spymaster's interests reassuring.
'Is this it, then?' Homen asked. He, too, disliked Malark, but he'd always been more adept at masking his emotions. 'I don't see so much as a serviceable rowboat. I suppose we could march west to Thassalen. We might find ships there. But even if the autharch lets us into the city without a fight, by that time, the council will be far away.'
'We aren't going to Thassalen,' Szass Tam said. He turned to one of the mounted guards. 'Tell my wizards to attend me.' The warrior saluted and pounded off, his horse's hooves drumming on the pavement.
The mages were no doubt weary from so many days of travel, but they had the good sense to come running. Szass Tam called the necromancers forward and positioned them so as to define the vertices of a complex mystic sigil. Then he took his place at the center.
He summoned a staff made of the fused bones of drowned men, bound with gold salvaged from sunken ships, into his withered hands. He hadn't had occasion to use the rod in over two hundred years, but perceived immediately that it was as potent as ever. He could feel the force inside it pulsing slow and steady as a line of rumbling breakers pounding at a shore.
He linked his consciousness to that of his subordinates. He chanted words of power, and they chorused the responses.
The feeble sunlight faded until it seemed that dusk had arrived early. The air grew cold. Then gray, shriveled heads bobbed to the surface of the harbor as sailors who'd fallen overboard and swimmers who'd ventured too far from shore responded to the necromancers' call. There were scores of them in view, and Szass Tam could sense still others, too far out to be visible but waiting to serve him nonetheless.
Meanwhile, memories of ancient pain and hatred woke in the ooze on the sea floor, and there they would shelter until true night fell. But then, they too would slither forth to do his bidding.
When he'd summoned and bound all he could, Szass Tam changed his incantations and the ritual passes that accompanied them, altering the net that was his magic to gather a different catch. Before, he'd fished for the festering stains left by the deaths of men. Now he trawled for echoes of the extinctions of beasts.
The rotting carcass of a kraken shifted its tentacles and swam upward from the seabed. The bones of a colossal eel tumbled and slid through slime to reassemble its skeleton. Mad with the need for vengeance on wyrm slayers who were long since dust, the ghost of a sea dragon roared, and although no one standing beside the ruined docks could see or hear it, people cringed and cried out nonetheless.
Szass Tam lowered his staff. When the ferrule touched the ground, he suddenly felt so weak that he leaned on the instrument.
It was unexpected. Liches were supposed to be immune to fatigue. But this wasn't ordinary weariness. He truly was nearing the end of the Black Hand's gift of power, and he realized that once it was gone, he'd be weaker than normal for a time. Perhaps it took a portion of his own strength to contain Bane's energies safely until required, and then turn them to their proper purpose.
He was glad the weakness lasted only a moment. It was poor practice for a lord to allow his vassals to catch him looking vulnerable.
'You've raised a fair number of drowned men and dead sea creatures,' Malark called. 'But not enough, I think, to destroy the council's fleet.'
'I'm not done,' Szass Tam said.
He dismissed his necromancers. They were too spent to assist any further. Then he called forth any other sorcerers capable of helping with his next effort, which was to say, every Red Wizard who'd defected from the order Mythrellan and Dmitra had commanded in their turns, and anyone else possessing a working knowledge of the same discipline.
He arranged them in a different pattern, then switched the bone staff for one made of moonlight, shadow, shimmering desert air, and fancies plucked from a madman's mind, all bound together. He led his assistants in another series of elaborate, contrapuntal invocations.
Darkness swirled on the water. By degrees, it sculpted itself into solid shapes and froze into solidity, until it became a fleet of warships floating at anchor, their hulls and sails black with scarlet trim and accents.
Szass Tam grinned at Malark, Homen, and Azhir. 'I realize we didn't make enough vessels to carry the entire army. But, with the warriors we can take onboard, the ones who'll swim alongside, and those who can fly, do you think we now have sufficient strength to sink our foes?'
Homen smiled. 'Your Omnipotence, I believe we do.'
The world tilted and spun. Szass Tam staggered. This time, if he was to remain upright, he had to lean heavily on his staff, and not just for a moment either. He growled a word of power whose virtue was to lend stamina to a flagging body and clarity to a beleaguered mind, and his dizziness abated.
Malark, Azhir, and Homen all ran to him, the fleet-footed former monk outdistancing the others. Despite his chagrin at having his appearance of majesty compromised, Szass Tam felt touched by what at least gave the impression of genuine concern. It warmed him in a way that all the cheering in the streets had not, and reminded him that the future, glorious as it would be, would come at a certain poignant cost.
'Are you all right?' Malark asked.
'I'm fine,' Szass Tam said.
'Maybe you should rest.'
'No. Perhaps I'll want to by and by, but for now, I'm more than strong enough to do what needs doing. Which is raise a storm at sea to slow the council's flight. Our fine new ships, zombie sea serpents, and what have you
