The Magehound

The old elf firmly put aside such thoughts and hobbled into the gardens. It was wise to bury one's secrets before entering the presence of a Halruaan diviner.

The real reason for Procopio's presence among the kitchen servants soon became apparent. A basket of doves stood ready for plucking, and several more of the birds flew circles about the tall, hive-shaped dovecote that dominated the south side of the kitchen gardens. Auguries were usually read from the random flights of wild birds, but Procopio had devised a way to read the future in the flight of birds lured in for table use. The diviner was quite fond of roasted dove, so the spell served two purposes at once.

"What counsel do the doves offer, my lord?"

The wizard glanced up at Zephyr's hail, and his satisfied smile broadened. "Enough to know that you have news for me."

The elf acknowledged this with a slight bow. "That is true, my lord, but bear in mind that no news is entirely unmixed. The birth of spring heralds the death of winter."

Procopio dismissed this cautionary proverb with an impatient wave. "This much I know from the birds: There was a disturbance in the market, one that can shift the course of my future. From you, I require detail."

"Your auguries tell true." Zephyr briefly related the story of Matteo's misadventure.

Procopio paled when he heard of the challenge between his new counselor and a jordain employed by his most serious rival for Zalathorm's throne. As Zephyr hoped, Procopio was too concerned for his own political future to inquire into the identity of the young woman who had played the part of alchemist in this particular brew.

"This contest would no doubt prove interesting, but there is both reason and means to avoid it. Lady Cassia took an interest in young Matteo and expressed her intent to commend him to the queen."

The diviner laughed without humor. "Did she, now? A most laudable act," he said dryly.

"Since when, dear Procopio, has any of my actions been otherwise?"

Procopio turned to face the king's counselor. He was smiling widely and looking not in the least surprised. "Welcome, Cassia. All is well with the king, I trust?"

The raven-haired woman glided forward and allowed the wizard to kiss her fingertips. "Zalathorm is well as ever, thanks be to Lady Mystra. It is the queen whose welfare concerns me."

"It is so?" the diviner said i

Cassia sent a quick, disparaging glance at the basket. "I see you have provided the second remove for the evening meal. Well done. It's a pity you couldn't conjure the final course instead. I am rather fond of sweets."

The wizard stiffened at the subtle layers of insult in his visitor's words. Zephyr lifted a hand to his lips and coughed slightly, not only to signal disapproval but to give an excuse to hide his smile. Conjurers held less status than diviners, and to be compared unfavorably to a wizard of that school was highly displeasing to his ambitious patron. It didn't escape Zephyr's notice that Cassia had not bothered to greet him, a fellow jordain, but he didn't take offense. To the contrary. The less attention he drew from such as Cassia, the better.

"I do not waste magic on such matters," Procopio said loftily. "As you can see, I have servants to fetch wine and honey cakes. But I hear that it is not my household servants who interest you, but my counselors. You believe that young Matteo may be of service to our queen?"

The jordain's smile was thin and cool. "Let us speak plainly. Your new counselor is a green youth, too hotheaded for delicate court matters and, by all appearances, sorely lacking in judgment. He laughed when a common street performer ridiculed a fellow jordain, which provoked the man to offer challenge. Had he any grasp of your interests and ambitions, he would have avoided this situation at almost any cost. Here is my counsel, Procopio: Be rid of him. This debate will do you no good, but Beatrix will not be harmed by it."

Procopio stroked his chin as he considered this path out of his dilemma. "But does the queen truly require a new counselor?"

"Conveniently, yes. Of late, she has become increasingly obsessed with creating clockwork devices. One of them went amok in most spectacular fashion. Her favorite messenger was killed, and she is in need of a reliable substitute. Do you think the young jordain's talents will be too tasked by this?"

The wizard thought of the daring skyship challenge, the hours Matteo had spent schooling him in military history and tactics, and the unca

"I daresay his capabilities extend thus far," he said dryly. "Zephyr? Has Matteo delivered all missives faithfully and well?"

"Perfectly, my lord. Whatever his shortcomings may be, his memory is admirable," the elf replied, taking his cue from the tone of his patron's response.

"Then I am satisfied," Cassia said. "That is all Beatrix will require."

"If she wishes Matteo's services, of course I will release him," the wizard said. "And I must say, your interest in the queen's welfare is most admirable."

"And surprising?" Cassia said with the candor of the very powerful. "Not surprising at all, if you remember Keturah."

With difficulty, Zephyr managed not to gasp aloud. He had come here to steer Procopio gently away from any potential interest in Tzigone. And now it appeared that Cassia's purpose was precisely the opposite.

The diviner's brow creased, then cleared as he recognized the name that he hadn't heard spoken for years. "Yes, now that you mention her. A wizard of the evocation school, rather well regarded but a little eccentric. It has been twenty years and more since Keturah's death. What part could she possibly have in your interest in Matteo?"

"Four new counselor has apparently befriended Keturah’s daughter."

Procopio's eyes widened. "I understood that the girl had been found and dealt with years ago."

"That is what they would have us believe. The child was caught, that much is true, and the official word was that she was too young and fragile to survive the rigors of magical inquiry. I know otherwise, and now you know as well. In his wisdom, Zalathorm does not admit to knowledge of certain things, but that does not mean his counselors should not be informed."

"Of course," Procopio murmured, his face thoughtful as he considered the uses of this information-and Cassia's likely purpose in sharing it with him.

Procopio knew that the mysterious «they» Cassia referred to were also known by another name. Halruaa's wizards ruled on many levels. A mysterious group known as the Cabal guided one of the most personal and important aspects of Halruaan life, the future of her wizards. This group kept detailed records of each wizard's heritage and skills, and matched them in marriage with wizards of compatible talents. This was one of the primary reasons why Halruaa could boast of so much magical talent and such highly specialized schools. Wizards in other, less civilized lands married for whim or fancy or political alliance, but in Halruaa, such things were never left to chance. The Cabal held enormous power, for they molded the future in directions they deemed desirable. A regrettable but necessary part of their duties was weeding out dangerous or wild talents, eliminating failed experiments, and dealing with wizards who became either inept or too ambitious.

But Procopio gave that grim reality no more than a passing thought. Membership in the mysterious Cabal was a sure path to power, and he coveted it nearly as much as he longed for Zalathorm's throne. And now here was Cassia, dropping hints and asking for him to release his most promising jordain! Zalathorm's high counselor was here to make an exchange, of that Procopio was certain. But on whose authority? Her own, or the king's? Either path was strewn with possibilities.