The Wizardwar - Elaine Cunningham [113]
Tzigone stepped forward and drove her fist into Dhamari's slack-jawed face. He stumbled backward and fell heavily against a rack of edged weapons.
Down clattered the swords and knifes, their keen edges leaving bloody tracks on the wizard's body.
Dhamari flailed at the falling blades, trying vainly to protect himself but making matters far worse than they needed to be. Each thrashing movement left another gash-in his panic, he was cutting himself to ribbons. Yet none of his wounds bled. Even in this, Keturah's talisman protected him from himself.
Tzigone reached down and closed her hand over her mother's talisman.
"Enough," she said in cool, even tones. "Eventually, everyone has to face who he is and live or die with the results." With a quick tug, she broke the chain and tore it free.
The fallen wizard's body erupted into a crimson fountain, and his shrieks of rage and pain rang out into the night. In moments he lay limp and silent.
Tzigone put her mother's medallion around her neck and left the tower without a backward glance. It was time for her to take her own advice and face who she truly was.
Matteo slept not at all that night. Dawn crept over the city, and still he gazed at a moon grown perilously slim and frail. Moondark was only two days away, and when the moon was born anew, Beatrix would come to trial.
Andris's charge of treason might be forgiven. An obscure Halruaan law forgave offenders who did Halruaa a great service. Certainly Andris had done so many times over. Beatrix was another matter entirely. Matteo still had no notion of how to defend her, other than finding a way to shatter the Cabal-and with it, the king's most powerful shield. That path could only lead to chaos and unbridled wizardwar.
Last night's attack on Basel's tower was not a unique occurrence. More than one wizard had stepped forward to challenge Zalathorm's right and fitness to rule. Mage duels took place in street corners and city gardens as ambitious wizards strove to prove supremacy. Other wizards watched and chose up sides.
Other illegal and more deadly forms of combat were becoming commonplace.
Reports of spell battles and magical ambushes were daily occurrences. Just yesterday, three of the men who declared against Malchior Belajoon had disappeared, and no one could discern the magic or the spellcaster responsible.
A small pink dove fluttered to a stop on Matteo's windowsill. The bird cocked its head and looked at him expectantly. Matteo noted the small scroll case strapped to the dove's leg. He quickly removed it and shook out the bit of parchment. It was a note from Tzigone, asking him to come at once to Keturah's tower.
He hurried from the room, oblivious to the bird's aggrieved coos-such messengers were trained to wait for a reply. The green marble tower was not far from the palace, and the streets were still quiet under the fading night sky.
Matteo sprinted down the street, intent on his goal. After the attack on Basel's tower, he suspected the worse.
He ran past a stand of flowering xenia bushes and didn't see the out-thrust foot until it was too late. He deftly turned the trip into a roll and came up in a crouch, daggers out.
Branches parted, and Tzigone's small face peered out at him. She gestured for him to join her. After a moment's hesitation, he edged into the small hollow.
"Procopio Septus is in the tower," she said.
Matteo's brows rose. "You're certain?"
"He just walked in." She shook her head in self-reproach. "I haven't had time to change the wards since I took over the tower."
He caught the implication at once. "Procopio knows Dhamari's wards! How could this be? A diviner might be able to see through some of them but certainly not all."
"I imagine Dhamari handed him the counterspells," she said grimly.
"They're best of friends these days."
The jordain huffed. "You didn't see fit to mention this?"
"Do you want to hear what I have to say, or would you rather fuss?" she said sharply.
He held up both hands in a gesture of peace. "We'll come back to Procopio later."
"We always seem