Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [49]
“What?” demanded Lunitari, unable to believe she had heard correctly.
“I have built a Tower of High Sorcery,” Nuitari repeated. “Or rather, rebuilt an old Tower—the one that used to stand in Istar. I raised up the ruins and added a few of my own touches. The Tower is located beneath the Blood Sea. Two of my Black Robes now inhabit it. I plan to invite more wizards to move in later.”
“You did this in secret!” Lunitari gasped. “Behind our backs!”
“Yes,” said Nuitari. What else could he say? “I did.”
Lunitari was furious. She lunged at him and there is no telling what she might have done, had not her cousin, Solinari, grabbed hold of her and dragged her back.
“Down through the centuries, since the time of our birth, we three have stood shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side,” said Solinari, keeping fast hold of his raging cousin. “We have been united in the cause of the magic and, because of our unity, magic prospered. When your mother betrayed us, we grieved together and joined forces to try to find the world. When we did find it, we acted in concert to restore magic to it. Only to discover that you have betrayed us.”
“Let us ask which of us is the true betrayer,” Nuitari said. “My mother, Takhisis, was deposed for her crime, made mortal, and then ignominiously slain by a mortal’s hand. Your father, Cousin Solinari, was once a god. He is now a beggar who roams Ansalon living off charity.
Nuitari shook his head. “And what of Nuitari? My mother gone. My father, Sargonnas, the rampaging bull, is intent on his minotaur ruling Ansalon! He has driven the elves from their homeland and is now sending out shiploads of minotaur settlers. He cares nothing for me or what I am about. We all know minotaurs think little of wizards, and that includes my father.”
His heavy-lidded eyes shifted to Lunitari. “Whereas your father, Gilean, is now the most powerful god in the heavens. Is it any coincidence that his daughter’s Red Robes run the Conclave?”
“The balance must be maintained!” Lunitari said, still smoldering. “Let me go, Cousin. I’m not going to harm him. Though I would like to snatch his black moon from the sky and shove it up his—”
“Peace, Cousin,” said Solinari soothingly. He turned to Nuitari. “The fact that the Red Robes are quite powerful may well be true, though I’m not saying it is,” he added as an aside with a cool glance at Lunitari. “Still, it doesn’t excuse what you did.”
“No it doesn’t,” Nuitari admitted. “And I want to make amends. I have a proposition. One I think will be agreeable to you both.”
“I’m listening, Cousin,” Solinari said. He seemed more grieved than angry.
Lunitari indicated, with an abrupt nod, that she was also interested to hear what he had to say.
“There are now three Towers of High Sorcery on Ansalon,” said Nuitari. “The Tower of Wayreth, the Tower of Nightlund, and my Tower in the Blood Sea. I suggest that, as it was in the days of the Kingpriest, each of the Robes be given its own Tower. The Red Robes will take control of the Tower of Wayreth. The White Robes will be ceded control of the Tower in Nightlund. My Black Robes will take over the Tower of the Blood Sea.”
The other two gods pondered this suggestion. The Tower of Wayreth was, to all intents and purposes, under the control of the Red Robes, since Jenna was Head of the Conclave and the Tower was the Conclave’s seat of power. The Tower of Nightlund had been closed since Dalamar had been banned from it as punishment. No wizard had been permitted to enter it, precisely for the reason that the gods feared the Tower would become a bone of contention, with both Black Robes and White Robes seeking to lay claim to it.
Nuitari had just provided a solution to the problem. Lunitari reflected on the fact that her cousin’s new Tower stood at the bottom of an ocean. It would not be easily accessible and was therefore not likely to pose much of a threat to her own power base. As for the Tower of Nightlund, it was located in the middle of one of the most deadly places on Krynn. If the White Robes did claim it, they would have to first