Triumph of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [108]
“As serious as I generally am about anything,” Simkin replied offhandedly. “No, wait. I take that back. I fancy I’m more serious about this than usual.”
“Well, well. Is that all? Take you with me?” Menju laughed expansively. “Nothing easier! It’s quite a brilliant idea, in fact! The hit you will make as part of my act! You will be the toast of the universe without doubt, my friend! I can see the marquee now!” The magician waved his hand. “THE SORCERER and Simkin!”
“Mmmm….” The young man smoothed his mustache thoughtfully. “Well, well. We can discuss that later. For now, we really must be going. Collect the Major, don our disguises, and return to those remarkably ugly buildings in which you odd people choose to dwell.”
Rising slowly up into the air, his red brocade dressing gown flashing like flame in the bright lights of the Bishop’s chambers, Simkin drifted over to the tapestry-covered wall.
As he passed by Menju, muttered words came floating back. “SIMKIN and the Sorcerer …”
7
Eye In The Sky
The sun sank down into the horizon hurriedly, without calling attention to itself. Night came quickly to Thimhallan, therefore, and a new moon rose. Curved in a malicious grin, it might well have been laughing at the follies of mankind that met its eyes…
“The magician takes me for a fool?”
Left alone with the Cardinal after the departure of Simkin and his “friends,” Bishop Vanya sat behind his desk, glaring at the empty chair the Sorcerer had lately occupied.
The Bishop had been all pleasant smiles—or at least the half of his face that could smile had been smiling—until his guests left. But once they were gone—Simkin’s voice prattling away merrily the while, its irritating tones the last sound Vanya heard as the Corridor closed about them—the smiling side of the face became as cold and frozen as its paralyzed other half.
“The Darksword! That is what he wants,” Vanya snarled, the pudgy hand crawling over the desk, the Cardinal staring at it in a horrible kind of fascination. “A token of goodwill! Bah! He knows the truth about it, about its powers. Joram must have told him. Menju knew about Simkin, after all. He knew about the Turning, he knew about Joram crossing into Beyond. Yes! He knows about the sword!
“You are the fool, Menju, to think I would give it up!” Vanya muttered, his plans bubbling and fermenting, coming to a frothing head. It appeared, from the perspiration on his brow, that his mental cup was overflowing.
“You Sorcerer! You devil of the Dark Arts! No wonder you have no fear of demons in that cursed place you have chosen to do your foul deed. You are one yourself, no doubt. But you might as well serve me as serve a Darker Master. Rid me of the Prophecy. Rid me of Joram. I’ll make of him a martyr and throw you to Prince Garald and the mob that will be howling for your blood. They’ll have you and your pitiful army to crucify. I’ll have the Darksword….”
With the heat of his emotions, the ice thawed, the smile returned to half the face.
“Send for the Executioner,” ordered the Bishop.
“The fat Priest takes me for a fool,” the Sorcerer said complacently.
Staring into a mirror he had conjured up, he carefully straightened his tie and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from his lapels. He and the Major were back at their headquarters seated in the Major’s office. He had divested himself of his disguise—though Simkin had assured him, before leaving, that the red brocade dressing gown “is you!”
“I think you are mad!” Major Boris muttered in hollow tones.
“What did you say, James?” the Sorcerer asked, though he had heard well enough.
“I said I don’t understand!” the Major returned heavily. “What have you done except put us in a more desperate situation than ever! Why did you reveal our plans to Joram! You knew it would force him to attack us before the reinforcements arrive—”
“Assuredly,” the Sorcerer said coolly, combing his thick, wavy hair.
“But why?”
“Major”—the magician continued to look critically into the mirror—“consider this. We have sent a frantic message for reinforcements back to our