Red Magic - Jean Rabe [40]
Maligor continued to pace in front of the cell until he heard through the door the clinking of chains and the scratching noise a key makes as it turns in a lock. Confident the two gnoll guards had secured the "guest," he raised his robe to his ankles and extended one slippered foot to prod the cell door open. He entered cautiously to make sure his expensive clothes didn't brush against the filth on the door, then stepped down carefully into the cell chamber. When his eyes adjusted to the gloom within-the room was lit with a small, oil-burning lantern-he saw his guest chained to the far wall.
The man was squat, but he had a broad, sturdy frame and a barrel-like chest. Maligor saw the cuts and bruises on the man's body and imagined he must have put up a substantial struggle to avoid being captured. His head hung limply forward against his chest; the gnolls had probably pummeled him into unconsciousness, the wizard mused. At least the guest didn't seem to be seriously injured.
The man was bald, and his head sported a design-a pale orange, four-taloned hand, indicating that he was a worshiper of Malar, the Beastlord, one of the commonly worshiped deities in Thay. Maligor himself favored Myrkul, whom the Red Wizard considered a far superior power and whom he honored with the permanent tattoo of Myrkul's symbol on the center of his forehead.
Maligor doubted his visitor's loyalty to Malar, since the man's symbol was painted rather than permanent. It had begun to fade from the rivulets of sweat that ran down his brow. The other symbols on the man's head were already obscured. The Red Wizard scowled in frustration; much could be learned about a Thayvian's beliefs and pontics from studying the symbols on his head. The man's clothes were well made and in good repair, but they were dirty, covered with dust and powdered rock. In the soft glow of the lantern light, the powder gleamed, making the Red Wizard's eyes widen and twinkle in response.
"Rouse him," the Red Wizard ordered.
The gnolls were quick to comply, shaking the man and splashing water on his face from the leather flask that hung at the man's side. The guards were among the largest gnolls Maligor had at his disposal, each a little more than eight feet tall. Looking like the offspring of a canine and a human, the gnolls' dark fur blended in with the cell's shadowy decor. Their small, shiny eyes glared out from above their hyena-shaped muzzles, and they lolled out their tongues, waiting for their master's next command.
Gradually the man's eyes came open, and he raised his head to stare at the gnolls' evil visages. Tilting his head to avoid their foul breath, he glared straight into the wizard's face.
"Zulkir Maligor!" the man gasped. "I am not under your personal command! I have done nothing to offend you. By what right did you bring me here? The Council of Zulkirs will be furious when they learn what you have done!"
Maligor's lips produced a thin, evil grin that quickly silenced the frightened man.
"The council isn't going to know," the Red Wizard replied menacingly. "I'm no fool. This dungeon is fully protected from the prying eyes of other wizards." He leveled his gaze on the man, who had begun to sweat even more profusely.
"Willeth Lionson," Maligor stated, finally addressing the man by his name. "Tharchion Willeth Lionson." The Red Wizard didn't know the man personally, but he knew much about him. Being on the Council of Zulkirs, Maligor had helped select Willeth to oversee Thay's gold mines. The Tharchion was accountable to the council and had allegiances to no individual Red Wizard.
"Tharchions do not just disappear!" Willeth sputtered. "The other wizards on the council will