Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [210]
"Ah, but that's exactly the point," said Vangerdahast. "The blots of disease in the abraxus's venom were all enwrapped in their own dead-magic zones. Spells couldn't reach the disease itself through the zones, and so His Majesty could not be cured by magic. But those very zones held the key to defeating the disease."
Dauneth looked puzzled.
Warming to the task, Vangerdahast went on with the enthusiasm of a proud crafter of magic. "We bled His Majesty, then enchanted the blood we collected. A simple spell-Nystul's Magic Aura-that would just turn the blood magical. Except, of course, the parts of the blood surrounded by dead-magic zones."
"The disease."
"Precisely. Then we worked up a spell to teleport enchanted blood to another container. That left the diseased blood, with its tiny dead zones, back in the original container, since it could not be affected by the spell. Then we infused the king again with the purified, magic-free blood."
Dauneth shook his head. "But you couldn't do that with all the royal blood at once, or His Majesty would die. And such a process is like diluting wine-the taint grows thinner and thinner, but there will always be some scrap of disease left."
"Again correct," the wizard replied, "but eventually the healthy blood overwhelmed the tainted, and the body of the king began to heal naturally. We had to effectively replace all of the blood in the king's body twice before his natural resistance could deal with it."
Dauneth goggled. "But that must have taken days! I can't think of anything else so time-consuming…"
"And painful," added the king, taking a seat with the others around the table. Giogi, still shaking his head, moved to where Cat perched. She handed him a goblet of wine, and he held it in one hand, rubbing her bare shoulder absentmindedly with his other hand.
"It is not," Azoun said feelingly, "a process I care to repeat."
"Nor will it be," the Lord High Wizard responded. "Now that we know the process, we can craft a spell to duplicate its effects in manifestation. And as much as I want to take credit for the process, it is almost entirely the work of Dimswart and Alaphondar, our devoted sages. I'm afraid I was caught up in other things."
"No," said Tanalasta with a solemn smile. "You were too busy scheming and dreaming up plots against the crown."
"And successfully, I might add," said Cat.
"Don't blame our good wizard too much, child," said the king. "When I was a lad, one of the lessons he taught me was that things are not always what they seem, and that the most evil people can put on a good face if they are after something. While this blood process he's so gleeful about was going on, I was as weak as a kitten. So I gave Vangerdabast orders to keep everyone in the dark and let him spin out all the dark intrigues he could think of, so long as he didn't bring all-out war to Suzail or bring the palace down around our ears."
"Separating the wolves from the sheep," Giogi said brightly, "or the wheat from the chaff, or the mill from the floss… or whatever."
"Aye," said the king. "The power of the Cormaerils, the Bleths, and the others whose acts were treasonable is now broken. Their lands are seized, their titles are stripped from them, and some will be exiled. I'll not be slaying more folk than have already died, however. That's one lesson I've learned from Vangerdahast and his forebears. The realm is stronger than any one man, and it's always best not to bleed away the best of its stock in wasteful executions."
"I've made it known," Vangerdahast added silkily, "that any interpretation of this clemency as a weakness of the monarch would be a mistake… almost certainly a fatal mistake."
"However, letting the threat of execution hang over a man seems quite a useful tactic," Azoun agreed. "Those who supported the traitors but were not immediately involved in the plot have either recanted or are heading for Sembia, Westgate, or