Unclean

She pouted. "Must you go so soon? Why not linger a while and help me scratch my itches?"

"I wish I could, but I have another message to deliver. Good-bye, my friend."

He crept back to her music room with its harp and lutes, then climbed out a window and down the wall. He slipped into a shadowy bower where he could stand and ponder unobserved.

The note he carried inside his tunic read:

Milord Autharch,

Your mistress Lady Nephis is untrue. She intends a tryst with a lover in the Carnelian Suite this very night. She employs a talisman of invisibility to keep such assignations, so those who go to catch her in the act should deploy the appropriate countermagic.

If the lord of the city was as jealous and choleric as Nephis had always claimed, the message should serve to end her influence over him for good and all. The only question was how to deliver it without being noticed. Fortunately, such problems rarely stymied Malark for long, and after a few more breaths, the solution came to him.

The i

Cowering before armed intruders in the caravanserai's common room, doing his inadequate best to shield his wife and three children with his pudgy body, he didn't look as if he liked it anymore. To all appearances, he would have given almost anything for a garrison of legio

The family's manifest terror gave Aoth a pang of guilt, for after all, they weren't enemy warriors and had nothing to do with Szass Tam and his ambitions. They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But war was made of such injustices.

"You have to clear out," he said, "and stay gone for a while."

The i

A griffon rider lifted his sword and stepped forward. "Fine, imbecile, you had your chance."

"Halt!" Aoth snapped, and then, when the soldier obeyed, returned his attention to the i

The i

"Just be quick about it," Aoth replied.

They were, and before long, they slunk out into the pounding rain that was almost unheard of in Thay, except for late at night. Aoth assumed the council's weather wizards were responsible. It was yet another ploy to slow the northerners' advance, in part by turning Lapendrar's roads to muck.

Unfortunately, the rain also made for cold flying with diminished visibility, but the Griffon Legion would simply have to cope. Aoth turned to his men and said, "Let's get to it. Poison the beer barrels, and the well, too."

The warrior who'd threatened the i

"Common folk often flee the approach of an army," Aoth replied. "If it makes the northerners leery enough to refrain from pilfering an unattended keg of ale, they're not like any soldiers I ever knew."

Dmitra surveyed the zulkirs seated around the table. It seemed to her that every face betrayed worry, no matter how the mage lords tried to mask it, and why not? They all had plenty to worry about.

"Your Omnipotences," she said, "thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"You should thank us," Samas Kul said, round face and fat neck a mottled red, "for by the Golden Coin, I don't know why I came. Some of us listened to you before, and as a result we're at war with Szass Tam!"

"Whereas if we hadn't heeded," Lallara snapped, waspish as ever, "the lich would be king already."

"That might be better than the alternative."

"No," said Nevron, glowering and smelling of sulfur, "it's not. I will never bend my knee to Szass Tam. I'd sooner drown the entire realm in hellfire."

Yaphyll's lips quirked into an impish smile. "It would be nice if we could chart a middle course. A tactic that avoids both surrender and ash."

"Your loyal servants in the Griffon Legion," Dmitra said, "are doing their best to hinder Szass Tam's advance. Unfortunately, a number of other companies are dawdling when they should be rushing to prepare for war. In some cases, they fear to take sides in a quarrel among zulkirs. In others, they're contemplating fighting for the lich.

"You have similar problems among the nobles and commoners," she continued. "Many are loath to exert themselves or make any sacrifices to assist the defense. Some merely await the opportunity to work against you as spies and saboteurs."

"We already knew Szass Tam did an exemplary job of endearing himself to the masses," Nevron growled. "Do you have a remedy?"

"I hope so, Your Omnipotence," Dmitra replied. "You six must forsake the seeming security of your castles and speak directly with lesser folk: the captains, the lords, and whomever."

Nevron glared at her. "You mean plead for their help?"

"Of course not. You are their masters, now and forever. The problem is, so is Szass Tam. You need to loom as large in their thoughts as he does, so command them as always, but do it in person. Don't count on them to obey your deputies with the same diligence and alacrity they'd show to you."

Samas Kul snorted. "I don't have the proper physique for chasing frantically about the realm."

"Perhaps you should consider turning into something leaner," Yaphyll replied. "That's what transmutation's all about, or so I'm told."

"In truth, Your Omnipotence," Dmitra said, "I didn't envision you doing a great deal of traveling. With an army marching against it, its tharchion and the commander of its legions assassinated, and the Shadowmasters still lurking about to hinder efforts at defense, nowhere in the realm needs more sorting out than Bezantur. You're the zulkir who lives there and heads up the guild that made the city rich. You can set matters right if anyone can, but not by hiding behind fortress walls."

"Walls have their uses," Lauzoril said in his usual prissy, tepid ma

"Understand," said Mythrellan, her body patterned in brown and tan diamonds like snakeskin, "we have reason to fear traitors even within the ranks of our own orders. But I don't suppose I have to explain that to you."

"I infer," Dmitra said, "you're alluding to the fact that though I'm an illusionist, for a long while I gave my greatest loyalty to Szass Tam instead of your exalted self. What can I say, except that I recall a time when you too were pleased to have him as an ally."

Yaphyll chortled. "As were Lallara, Samas, and I, so let's forgo deploring old miscalculations and address current needs, to which end I'll say I believe Dmitra Flass is right. Whatever our concerns about our personal safety, we need to take the southern tharchs in hand while we still can."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," Dmitra said, "for I have even more to recommend."

Samas Kul snorted. "What else can there be?"

"You're all used to Szass Tam working through agents and subordinates. As you do. As lords everywhere do. But I know him, and I promise you that when his army undertakes a major battle, he'll fight alongside his vassals. Obviously, his wizardry will all but guarantee a victory-unless we have archmages fighting on our side, too."