Realms of Infamy - James Lowder [5]
He pointed at a group of parchments. "There we read of unfair fees and taxes heaped upon our merchants by no less than seven cities of the Dragon Reach."
Manshoon's finger moved again. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to report of open assaults on our caravans by the brigands who style themselves the Cult of the Dragon!"
The first lord spread his hands. "Is this not monstrous? Should we not sharpen our swords and ready our spells?"
"No," someone replied flatly from the middle benches. There was a murmur of laughter.
Manshoon let it run its course and die. "Yet there's more. Much more. The survival of our very city is at stake!"
"It always has been," someone called.
"Aye, show us something new to back up those old words!"
Manshoon replied, "Very well. Look, all! Look well!"
He waved a hand and stepped back. The debating floor darkened. Motes of light winked and sparkled in that magical gloom, swirling suddenly into the ghost-form of a robed man. The stranger sneered, then raised one hand to shape an intricate gesture. A soundless bolt of lightning lashed out from that hand into the upper benches. Councilors cringed back-and then gaped as images of three Zhentarim wizards well-known in the city suddenly appeared among the benches. These ghost mages hurled back magics of their own.
The harmless shadows of sparking, slaying spells flashed and leapt. Manshoon stood calmly in the midst of their silent fury and said, "I call on the high priest of the Black Altar!"
Fzoul rose and bowed gravely. His flowing red hair and moustache stood out like frozen flames against the dark splendor of his robes.
Manshoon asked in loud, solemn tones, "Are these images false?"
Fzoul held up a gem that filled his fist and glowed with magical radiance. He peered through it at the spell-phantoms, then shook his head. "No. These images record what truly befell." He bowed again and sat down.
"Behold," Manshoon said triumphantly, pointing at the image of the stranger-phantom. "A Red Wizard of Thay!" He surveyed the dumbfounded councilors and added, "Confronted as you see, in this very chamber, two nights ago!"
Silent spells splashed and grappled. Sudden green flames raced up the Red Wizard's limbs. The struggling man's flesh dissolved in the inferno until only black, writhing bones remained. The watching councilors saw those bones collapse into ash.
In the hushed silence that followed, Manshoon's voice carried clearly. "Saw you the scroll at his belt?" The smoking image faded as he waved at it, but many councilors nodded.
"I recognized it," the first lord said grimly, "and checked our records chamber. The naval treaty we recently signed with Thay is missing! We are defenseless against Thayan piracy-but the concessions we surrendered to get that agreement are still lost to us."
Manshoon raised his arms and voice together as he looked around at the benches. "And this is but a piece of paper! What if this wizard had come with killing spells, seeking your money? Or your throat? Or your children, to sell into slavery?"
There was an excited, angry buzz, as councilor looked to councilor. Manshoon let it grow into a roar, then waved for silence.
"Zhentil Keep needs strong guardians against such perils. You saw the bravery and skill of three Zhentarim with your own eyes, preventing the destruction of this hall-or worse. I can keep this city safe with more stalwart, loyal mages such as these… But I need your permission to do so." He stepped forward grandly, so sunlight outlined him. "I must have the right and the power to defend you!"
Then Manshoon continued more quietly, "I must be free to train and equip forces to properly defend our city. I must have the authority to whelm and direct them in emergencies. I move that the formal powers of the first lord of Zhentil Keep-my powers-be so increased."
The chamber erupted. Red-faced old nobles pounded fists on their benches and bellowed, "Never!" There were shouts of "Tyranny!" and others of "Well said!" There were also cries of "Let the lord speak!" and "Wisdom