ambitious project. He wouldn't be the first wizard who simply'-
Lallara cackled. 'The Szass Tam I remember already thought he was a god, or as good as.'
'True enough,' Nevron said, 'and let's not forget that gods can subjugate one another and even die. I've lost count of how many did so in the past century. No, it makes perfect sense that Szass Tam, arrogant, merciless whoreson that he is, would seek to become something greater.'
Lauzoril reflected that in different circumstances, he might have needed to suppress a smile at hearing Nevron refer to anyone else as 'arrogant' or 'merciless.' But nothing seemed very funny at the moment.
Samas guzzled from his cup. 'But I wonder if the actual gods wouldn't stop him.'
'Like they stopped the Spellplague?' Lallara asked.
'She's right,' Nevron said. 'No mortal understands the ways of the gods, no mortal can command them, and that means you can't depend on them.'
'Then you're saying Captain Fezim and his friends are right,' Samas said. 'Other people need to stop Szass Tam, and since we're the only ones who know of the threat and take it seriously, it will have to be us.'
'How?' Lallara asked. 'The necromancers already defeated us once, when we commanded far greater resources than we do now. I know we've always prattled about reconquering Thay, but we never actually set about organizing an invasion, did we? Because we knew we wouldn't stand a chance.'
'Maybe we don't have to retake Thay,' Samas said. 'The so-called 'Dread Rings' define a mystic pattern with the Citadel, where Szass Tam will perform the conjuration, at the center. And we can assume that, gigantic though it is, it's like any pentacle. Break any part of it, and the whole becomes useless. So all we need to do is seize a single fortress, neutralize its arcane properties with our own countermagic, and that will make the ritual impossible.' He smiled smugly, and Lauzoril surmised that he'd enjoyed playing schoolmaster to the woman who so often mocked and fleered at him.
'Interesting,' Lallara said. 'I assume this is Captain Fezim's idea that you're passing along to us.'
Samas glared.
'Wherever it originated,' Lauzoril said, 'it seems the most practical way-perhaps the only way-of addressing the problem,'
'It does,' Nevron said, 'but it ignores one important point. The Aglarondans are coming to drive us out of the Wizard's Reach, and if we take most of our troops and wander off to Thay, they'll succeed.'
'Given what's at stake,' Lauzoril said, 'perhaps even that doesn't matter.'
Nevron scowled. 'It matters to me. I'm a zulkir, a lord among men, and I intend to remain one so long as I walk the mortal plane. The East can burn, the whole world can crumble, if that's what it takes for me to keep my lands and titles until the end.'
Her eyes flinty, Lallara nodded. Samas said, 'The Reach is all we have left.'
Lauzoril realized he agreed with them. Their perspective was a subtle kind of madness, perhaps, but whatever it was, he shared it. 'All right. First we push back the simbarchs, then we deal with Szass Tam. Maybe the former will be good practice for the latter. As far as I can see, that just leaves one more minor matter to decide here and now. What shall we do with Captain Fezim and his comrades?'
'What do you generally do with deserters?' said Nevron. 'Execute them.'
'They are the people who warned us of Szass Tam's scheme,' Samas said.
Nevron smiled. 'Which is to say, they've served their purpose.'
'Perhaps not their entire purpose,' Lallara said. 'Remember the old days. When we scored a victory against Szass Tam, these warriors played a part as often as not. And from what I understand, Captain Fezim's mercenary company-the army he built around our old Griffon Legion-is on its way here. They're coming to help us invade Thay, but they may have second thoughts if they arrive to learn we tortured their commander to death.'
'I suppose we would be stupid to cast away such a weapon,' Nevron said, 'but it galls to me to think of that insolent Rashemi going unpunished.'
Lauzoril fingered his chin. 'Well, how about this? Someone will have to bear the brunt of it when Aglarond attacks. Let it be the Brotherhood of the Griffon. If Fezim and his company perish, that's his punishment. If they survive, they can serve as our vanguard in Thay. And if they make it through that, then we can always butcher the traitor when we come home again.'
As Aoth had anticipated, a substantial force or Aglarondans had chased the Brotherhood some distance into the Yuirwood before Gaedynn's maneuvering shook them off the trail. But even with elves and druids to aid their passage, the simbarchs had balked at the arduous task of bringing the whole of their armed might south through the dense forest with its dangerous patches of plagueland. Instead, they'd marched their forces east, to emerge from the fortified city of Glarondar onto the plains north of Escalant.
Aoth flew high above the field to inspect the Aglarondans in their battle array and the zulkirs' troops in their own formation. Bareris and Mirror accompanied him, but none of the other flyers. There was no reason to tire the griffons prematurely or to show the enemy just how many aerial cavalry there were, even though they'd had ample opportunity to learn before the Brotherhood switched sides.
Switched sides. Aoth tried to spit the unpalatable thought away.
He glanced over at Bareris, an uncanny ivory apparition astride his own griffon, its tawny wings gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. The bard's scowl suggested that his thoughts were bitterer than Aoth's.
'Cheer up,' called Aoth. 'The situation doesn't look all that bad.'
'This is a waste of time,' the bard replied. 'We should already be in Thay.' He nudged his mount with his knee and sent it winging to the left.
'It would be futile to go by ourselves,' Aoth said, even though his fellow griffon rider was already out of earshot. 'I'm doing the best I can, damn you.'
Mirror floated closer. For Aoth, it was one of those moments when regarding the ghost actually was like peering into a warped and murky looking glass. 'He knows that. But you have to admit, you would feel silly if, while we were busy fighting the simbarchs, Szass Tam performed his 'Great Work' and killed us all.'
Aoth snorted. 'Is that supposed to be funny? I don't think I've ever heard you try to joke before. You've come a long way.'
'Some days are good, some, I'm as mad and empty as the day Bareris met me. But yes, I've emerged partway into the light, even as he's slipped farther and farther into darkness. At times I feel like some sort of vampire. As if I'm leeching his soul from him without even realizing it.'
'I never knew you to fall prey to poetic fancies before, either.' Aoth sent Jet swooping for a better look at some of the enemy's archers. 'I'm sure your company has been as good for him as his has been for you. I suspect it's the thing that's kept him at least a little sane.'
'I suppose it could be so.' Mirror hesitated. 'You were always a shrewd soldier. You do realize that, the way our side is formed up, a good many of the Aglarondans are going to end up hammering away at your Brotherhood. More than your fair share, I'd have to say.'
Aoth snorted. 'Nothing new about that. Lords don't pay good coin to sellswords only to hand the most dangerous jobs to their own vassals. And at least we are getting paid. I told the zulkirs the Brotherhood wouldn't fight otherwise.'
Jet screeched. 'It's starting.'
Arrows rose from ranks of Aglarondan archers like a dark cloud. Gaedynn scrutinized the arc of the shafts as they reached the apogee of their flight. The enemy bowmen were reasonably competent. Of course, one would expect as much, considering how many of them had some measure of elf blood flowing in their veins.
Strong hands grabbed him by the arm and jerked him onto his knees. 'Down!' Khouryn snarled.
I was getting around to it, Gaedynn thought.
The sellswords equipped with tower shields or targes raised them to ward themselves and their more lightly armored comrades. The arrows whined as they fell, then clattered against the defensive barrier. Here and there, a man screamed where a missile found a gap.
Behind the foot soldiers and archers, wings snapped and rustled as the griffon riders took to the air. Gaedynn wouldn't have minded going with them, but Aoth had decided that in this particular combat, he'd be more useful directing the archers on the ground.
