Prince of Lies - James Lowder [95]
"And I'm willing to do some little part toward repairing any damage I might have caused in my anger at being cut off from the weave," Cyric offered. "Return the inquisitors to me, and I'll assure the Circle they will be used exclusively against my faithful in the future."
Mystra laughed bitterly. "But only if you're granted the use of magic again, right?"
"Just so, Lady." Cyric bowed. "Just so."
Lathander Morninglord stood, his eyes glowing with the soft light of dawn. "Mystra, we could see our way to dropping all charges against you," he began, "but only if you'll agree to this new beginning."
"None of you can see what a monster he is," the Lady of Mysteries said.
"A monster? How so?" Oghma asked, his voice edged in steel. "Because he uses illusions and deception to fool his victims? Consider how you drew the inquisitors into your trap, Lady."
"And there is the matter of the Chaos Hound," Cyric said smoothly. "The evidence found atopBlackstaffTower-"
"You'd do well not to mention that crime at all," Tyr warned. "It's fortunate for you the beast did no harm to any of the Faithful, or one of us would have called you to trial for freeing the Hound…"
"But Mystra conspired to imprison Kezef, and in doing so she willfully caused the death of her own loyal follower," Cyric murmured. "She is hardly one to judge my moral standing."
"What are you talking about?" Mystra asked. "I know nothing of Kezef. I never confronted the beast."
The Lord of the Dead feigned shock. "But the evidence clearly shows otherwise."
With one rap of his knuckles on the podium, Tyr silenced the court. "The evidence you have presented to us – the holy symbol and spell parchment – could have been planted by anyone. Justice demands proof."
"Justice demands I save the Lady of Mysteries from being wrongfully punished," Mask said. When the Shadowlord stepped from the corner nearest Mystra, a ripple of surprise moved through the room; no one had seen Mask in that corner until he spoke.
"It was I who captured Kezef. Placing the blame on the goddess was a twist of intrigue." Mask moved to Mystra's side. "In such matters I can't help myself – though I also acted out of fear. None of you may wish to admit it, but you know the Lady of Mysteries is correct: Cyric threatens us all."
"As I expected," the Prince of Lies murmured. The rose-hued short sword at his hip flared angrily. "Where is the Chaos Hound?"
"Where you'll never find him," Mask taunted. "But don't worry, he'll turn up on your doorstep sooner or later. Dogs are like that."
Cyric merely smiled at the barb. "Where did you get the spell that allowed you to capture him so easily? Such enchantments are far beyond your ken, Shadowlord."
"From my library," Oghma sighed.
"So you were his accomplice, as well," the Prince of Lies hissed. Tell me, what has Kezef to do with knowledge, Binder? Are you as guilty of overstepping your office asMidnight?"
"The knowledge contained in my library is available to all the gods," Oghma said. His voice thundered with menace, like the martial songs written by the necromancers of Thay. "Mask borrowed the information from me. In return for this service, the borrower often provides a bit of lost history to include in my books."
"So you would have given me the spell, had I traded you some suitable fragment of lore?" Cyric asked slyly.
"Of course. Knowledge must be free to travel where it is desired."
The Lord of the Dead nodded slowly. "I'll remember that, Binder."
"Enough, Cyric," Tyr said. "It should be no surprise to you that there are many of us who stand against you-"
"But I should only expect opposition from any of you when my plans threaten your office," the Prince of Lies said. "That is Ao's law, is it not?"
Oghma stood and moved to Tyr's side, then whispered into the old judge's ear. "Yes," the God of Justice said, "given the nature of the conflict, a compromise might be in order."
Tyr faced the gathered throng once more, stiff and regal. "Because both the accuser and the accused are unique