The Dragon's Doom - Ed Greenwood [131]
Embra nodded, and said merely, "The cells."
They hurried into the palace, the grim glow of the Stone Embra held all the warrant they needed to make guards hasten aside at their approach, and descended into darkness.
Both swords and the Dwaer were held ready as a certain door scraped open-but in the damp, dark chamber beyond, a certain sorcerer still hung chained to the wall.
"How much have you seen?" Embra asked softly, without greeting. "Enough to keep your sanity, I trust?"
The Master of Bats laughed bitterly. "Many say I lost that years ago-just as you did, little darling of jewels, under your father's hands and his mages' teachings. His kisses were sweet, I trust?"
Embra's lips tightened. "You heard my first question?"
The sorcerer gave her a glare. "Of course I've been watching," he said mockingly. "What else is there for me to do? All folk of Aglirta should see their overdukes at work, and marvel thereby. I thank you for the entertainment."
Craer bowed with full court flourishes, but Blackgult said grimly, "Make us tire overmuch of bandying words with you, Huldaerus, and we'll simply slay you. Aglirta already has more unscrupulous mages than it can hold; we don't need you."
"Ah, but you do," the chained wizard replied. "Who else has the leisure"-he rattled his chains-"to watch what's happening, and see all? Have you looked upstairs yet?"
"Why?" Embra's voice was sharp. "What's afoot in the palace?"
"Faceless and Serpents everywhere-even with your pet imported bard to harp him on his way, your boy king can scarce avoid treading on his foes as they glide and slither down every passage. You really should be more attentive to your duties, and spend less time gallivanting about the Vale. Is it not written that 'The Serpent has many heads, and shall arise again and again'?"
"Old books say much," Embra replied, "and most of it is witless fancy-as even a casual reader can tell when so many works contradict themselves from page to page, let alone standing against the tellings in other books. Is it not also written, Huldaerus, that there's no Serpent at all, but merely men who seize the mantle for their own purposes?"
The Master of Bats grinned. "Ah, well now. You've come to waste my time in an interesting manner at last."
"Think not," Tshamarra Talasorn said suddenly, "to prolong our stay or inflate your own importance, mage, by wasting our time overmuch. I know spells that can make your imprisonment an eternity of itching, or gut-sickness, or stabbing pains, or make you burn so keenly that you plead with your jailer to douse you in icy water, or slay you and so end your torment."
The chained wizard regarded her thoughtfully, and she answered his unspoken question. "No, I'm not Vale-born, nor given to cruelty. Yet for mages who've offered me any menace-as you did to these my friends, in past strivings in ruined Indraevyn-I cleave to the sensible advice of my family: Destroy, as soon and as harshly as possible. Those who work magic must be rightful and useful in their deeds, or others will cleanse all lands of their presence. By working tyranny with your sorcery, you endanger us all."
"So all must be burned away save you, maid of steel?" the Master of Bats asked quietly. "Which of us will then be the tyrant?"
"Bandy not words with me," the Lady Talasorn replied calmly, "but speak plainly and to the point. Darsar needs all the skilled mages it can rear-I'd rather gain you as a friend, sir, when this is all over, than reap your bones now."
The chained man looked at her. "Well, then, I'll lay aside my anger-on one condition: That you tell a few tavernmasters in Sirlptar, or wandering traders from other lands, if any still be in the Vale with this plague rampant, that I'm chained down here… so that if you're all slain in the game of Serpent and Dragon, someone will know where I am, and come looking."