The Wizardwar   ::   Каннингем Элейн

Uriah was long past caringhow other Halruaans measured him. He led the man to Sinestra's tomb and left him to do his work. He lingered at the far corner of the chamber, however, watching intently as the magehound cast his spells of inquiry.

The expression on the magehound's face turned from impatience to incredulity. Finally he lowered his silver-and-jade wand and turned to Uriah.

"I have grave news indeed."

The old wizard steeled himself to hear that his spell, his ineptitude, had caused the death of his beloved Sinestra.

"There is a spell upon your wife so that another man's touch will return her to your side."

Uriah confirmed this with a single nod.

"The man who touched her was Lord Basel Indoulur."

For long moments, wizard and magehound regarded each other, neither quite able to take in the truth of this. Finally emotion began to rise in Uriah's heart. There was fear-for Basel Indoulur was a noted conjurer-but fear paled before his fury. With his anger came a murderous resolve.

"You are certain of this?"

His voice was steady, grim. A wary expression-a shadowy version of respect-entered the magehound's eyes.

"Beyond doubt. What would you have me do with this knowledge?"

The old wizard considered. He would avenge Sinestra, of that he was certain. The problem was his utter lack of ideas concerning how to proceed!

He took a heavy, gold chain from around his neck and handed it to the magehound. "For now, keep this knowledge close. When the time comes, I will call upon you to bring inquisition. You, and no other."

The magehound's eyes flashed with ambition. In these uncertain times, Halruaans searched for traitors in every well and under every bed. If he could deliver as powerful and canny a wizard as Basel Indoulur to judgment, his fame would be assured!

He inclined his head to Uriah, favoring the minor wizard with a bow usually exchanged only between men of equal rank and power.

"As you say, Lord Uriah, it will be done."

The wizard waited until his guest left, then flung himself upon the curved dome of Sinestra's tomb and wept. Each tear watered his hatred of Basel Indoulur. Surely an opportunity to strike would come, even to a man such as he! If it did not, he would find a man who had greater power and a better chance of success.

His Sinestra was dead. One way or another, Basel Indoulur would pay.



Chapter Seven



A band of warriors followed a small, green-clad wizard, a half-elven woman who moved through the swampy jungle like a cat.