The Wizardwar   ::   Каннингем Элейн

At last Kiva dragged herself to her feet. "And you, Lord Akhlaur," she said hoarsely. "Have you also taken this precaution?"

The necromancer gave her a condescending smile. "As long as the crimson star lasts, what power could possibly bring me down?"

"I have often pondered that very question," she said.

Akhlaur's face fell slack with astonishment, then darkened with wrath. Just as quickly, his expression changed to dark mirth. "The best of my apprentices," he repeated.

Wizards from all over Halruaa gathered in the council chamber of King Zalathorm. The king's greatest magical treasure-at least the greatest treasure of which people were aware-was a great, amber globe that could summon wizards from every corner of the land. Each wizard who achieved the status of Elder wore a golden ring set with a round amber stone. Using these artifacts, Zalathorm could summon a council at any time and could communicate with some or all of his faithful wizards.

The problem, mused Zalathorm wryly, was that few of these wizards were entirely as faithful as they wished to appear.

He looked out over the sea of waiting, respectful faces. Zalathorm was a powerful diviner, as adept at gauging the heart and purpose of a man as any wizard alive. The truth he saw behind many of those faces pained him to the soul.

"I have summoned you here to discuss the aftermath of the Mulhorandi invasion," he began.

Applause swept through the hall as wizards hailed their king for his role in the recent victory. Zalathorm cut the ovation short with a sharply upraised hand.

"Every man and woman here had a part in Halruaa's victory. Let us address the future. We have received word from Mulhorand. An ambassador seeks permission to offer terms of peace."

Silence hung thick in the crowded room. "What possible terms could they seek?" demanded a thin, querulous voice. Febir Khorn, a wizened man whose face wore every day of his ninety years, thumped his staff indignantly on the polished marble floor. His advanced years, longtime friendship to Zalathorm and absolute loyalty to the king purchased him the right to speak his mind at will. "If the Mulhorandi stay out of Halruaa, we will let them live. What more could they ask or expect?"

A chorus of huzzahs and approving laughter filled the hall. Zalathorm smiled at the indignant wizard. "It is my sincere wish that everything was as forthright as you, my friend, but, despite Halruaa's victory, several mysteries remain. These we must and will address."

His steady gaze swept the crowd.