“I know you came here for me,” she whispered to her new owner. He paused in his counting to look at her. The treasurer was plainly irritated with the interruption to their transaction.
“Is that so?” Heraclos asked her pleasantly.
“I want something from you,” Tazi continued, “and it is within your means. Give it to me.”
Heraclos smiled and replied, “You are in a rather precarious position to make demands of me.”
Tazi moved in closer and whispered so only he could hear, “You know I can make things difficult. Give me this one thing, and I’ll make it easy on you.”
“What is it?”
“I want the dwarf to come with me. He’s my partner, and I won’t leave him behind,” she finished and looked at him firmly.
The bodyguard looked at the duergar and the set of Tazi’s chin. Tazi was counting on her belief that whoever wanted her, wanted her quickly and not too damaged. She guessed she had been tested for her strength and, having passed the test last night, would not be taxed until she was forced to do whatever it was she had been chosen for. She hoped the bodyguard feared his master enough to concede.
“Fine,” he answered. Heraclos returned to the treasurer and said, “Throw the dwarf into the bargain as well.”
“But that will be extra,” the treasurer insisted.
“Throw him in as a gift for the great price you received for her,” he indicated Tazi, not beyond some haggling.
The treasurer was about to protest until he saw the tattoos on Heraclos’s right forearm. He blanched and dropped his eyes.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” he agreed and hastily scribbled out a second writ of ownership. Heraclos collected the documents and gallantly swept his arm out, indicating that Tazi should proceed him. They stopped at the gathering of guards, and Tazi watched as Heraclos spoke to the one in charge. He showed him the paperwork and the dwarf was released into his custody.
As Tazi and the two others exited the square, she turned once to see the auctioneer in a heated argument with the treasurer. When the treasurer pointed to what must have been a name in the record book, Tazi saw the auctioneer grow quiet, and all the color drained from his face.
Just what am I getting dragged into? Tazi wondered.
A few hours later, Tazi stood once again and felt as though she was still being scrutinized. When her entourage had arrived at a rather luxurious inn, the bodyguard led Tazi and the dwarf to a simple, clean room. He released Tazi’s wrists and made a point of checking the room’s door. Tazi noticed the chamber had no windows, and she was certain that was no accident. Aside from a bed, table and chairs, the only other items in the chamber were a screen and a steaming tub of water.
“Please make certain that you clean yourself. I will re-enter the room with my associate in fifteen minutes to collect you,” he told Tazi pointedly.
“I see you were expecting me,” she told Heraclos with a nod to the warm water.
“Fifteen minutes,” was all he replied.
Nearly an hour later, a much-cleaner Tazi was still standing, and she wondered who was watching her, or if this was simply her new owner’s way of reinforcing the fact that everything was on his timetable now. A few feet on either side of her stood a bodyguard. Tazi had briefly “met” Milos, the older servant, when she had tested the door to her room. He had peered menacingly at her from the cramped hallway, and she had slammed the door in his face. Now he and Heraclos stood passively and bided their time. The only reaction Tazi evoked in them was when she tried to move. Either one or both would draw their scimitars and motion warningly to her with them. Though they rarely spoke, they communicated their message quite clearly. Tazi contented herself to exploring the room with her keen eyes alone.
While her room had been pleasant, if austere, this room was sumptuous and extravagant. Tazi noticed the sheen of silk sheets on the bed, the embroidered cushions on the settee, and the large, carved desk. All were quality items. In front of the wardrobe were several trunks, most likely full of clothes. Her host spared no expense for his needs. Even the servants were well dressed and sported weapons of fine craftsmanship. A lesser blade would have broken under the assault she gave the night at the tavern. Coin did not appear to be an object. Tazi’s mind started to turn.
With all these belongings, my host doesn’t like to travel lightly and appreciates his comforts. Probably a touch vain, judging by the obvious opulence.
Scattered on the desk were a few letters and missives. Tazi suspected that her host was fairly well-educated. Not all of the wealthy class or the nobility could read, but Tazi suspected this person could. Desks themselves were not standard furniture in many rooms, because so few folk could use them. Her host would have requested it or was enough of a regular that the innkeeper knew to have it ready. Another piece in her puzzle as Tazi tried to read her owner and discover what he wanted from her. And all the while she was inventorying the room, Tazi was also searching for an avenue of escape. The room seemed ordinary enough, and that made Tazi suspicious immediately.
Too easy, she thought. There has to be more than what meets the eye here. With a soft thud, the door shut behind Tazi. It startled her because she hadn’t heard it open. As she turned, Tazi saw both bodyguards bow deeply. She refused to do the same, and the men didn’t force her to comply. She got a good look at her owner.
Much like the auctioneer did to her this morning, Tazi gave Naglatha a brief, cursory glance and attempted to sum her up. The woman appeared to be close to her in age, though a touch older. There were no wrinkles on her smooth face to belie her years; it was her black eyes that betrayed her. They seemed older to Tazi, perhaps older than someone twice her own age, with a dark wisdom in them. Tazi also noted the woman was about her height and build, though it was a little difficult to tell with the somewhat concealing clothes she wore. The woman wore a sleeveless, belted tunic that hung to mid-calf. It was split on both sides to allow easy movement. Under that, she sported a pair of lightweight trousers and delicate sandals. She had several rings on her thin hands, and she even had a ring on one of her toes.
But the most striking feature the woman possessed, with the exception of her obsidian eyes, was her rich hair. In a land where Tazi had seen most everyone crop their tresses or completely remove them, the woman standing before her had a thick, black mane. She wore it loose, with a simple band over the center of her head that kept some of the locks out of her eyes. She looked confident, very sure of herself. As Tazi studied her, she was also struck by a sense of familiarity.
I’ve seen this woman before, she thought and wracked her memories trying to place her. When Tazi finally looked back at her, she could see the other woman smiling at her when Tazi would have expected her to have been appalled and offended at the brazenness of her new slave. She walked past Tazi over to the small table nearby and further surprised her new possession.
“Please,” she said in a low, pleasant voice, “have a seat.” And she pulled a chair out for Tazi. Bemused, Tazi moved over and sat down. The woman picked up a decanter and gracefully filled two goblets with wine. She offered one to Tazi.
“I’m sure you’re very parched. Have some. Not the best year, but it was the finest this establishment had to offer.”
Dumbfounded, Tazi accepted the glass but hesitated to drink. Her owner smiled again at her and raised her goblet in a quick toast before drinking a few sips. Now fairly certain the wine had not been tampered with, Tazi followed suit. The woman nodded to Tazi as if acknowledging the importance of the little ritual. She set her glass back down and drew a chair for herself. Once she was seated, she placed her delicate arms on the table and loosely laced her fingers together.
“Now that you’ve had an opportunity to refresh yourself,” she began, noting Tazi’s clean appearance, “let’s waste no more time.”
“All right,” Tazi replied.
“You can’t possible imagine my surprise when I saw you in that tavern two nights ago,” she explained.
> “No, I can’t,” Tazi answered honestly. She was more puzzled now because she knew this woman and couldn’t place her.
“I mean,” she offered, “Thay is so very far from Selgaunt. You’ve traveled a great distance. Doesn’t seem like you, really.”
“And what would seem like me?” Tazi said, trying to bait her, incredulous that the woman thought she knew her at all.
Naglatha smiled and stretched her arm to stroke Tazi’s shoulder-length hair. Tazi flinched slightly at her cold touch, but held her place. She glanced over to where the bodyguards stood. They were staring at the wall as though they were fixtures. But Tazi believed they would strike without hesitation if they thought their mistress was in jeopardy or if Tazi made any sudden moves. So she bore the woman’s distasteful touch without saying a word.
“Shorter tresses for one,” she astounded Tazi with her knowledge of her former look. “Perhaps a style a bit more boyish and more suited to your favorite activities?”
“Perhaps,” a startled Tazi offered.
“I’ve been following you for years, actually,” Naglatha admitted. “And I have been most impressed with what I saw. I mean, for someone of your relatively few years.”
“What impressed you the most?” Tazi asked, convinced the woman and she must have attended one of her mother’s many, opulent soirees. “Was it my charming wit or my keen sense of fashion that meant the most to you?” She saw the woman was not troubled by her bantering manner.
“Most definitely it was your keen taste in clothing. Perfect for those late night rendezvous with your young-mage-in-training, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.” She smiled more fully at the confusion on Tazi’s face.
“Many were the times I considered approaching you in my capacity as a recruiter for the Red Wizards,” she told Tazi. “But, I hesitated because I worried about your ability, or lack thereof, to commit to a cause. Actually, I doubted your ability to commit to anything, and that would have been no good to me. But I kept my eye on you.
“Then I heard one day that the little girl had flown from her parent’s castle to parts unknown. And when you finally returned home, the great Old Owl, Thamalon Uskevren, had died.” Tazi blinked hard at the mention of her father’s name. “How things have changed for you, little Tazi,” she finished, using Thazienne’s special nick name, and allowed her words to sink in.
In a flash of revelation, Tazi realized that she did know this woman from Selgaunt. She had seen her shop along Larwaken Lane more than once. It had been filled with oddities and curios from the South, Tazi remembered. The pieces had been relatively overpriced and gaudy, as Tazi recollected, but the woman’s shop had always had a lot of traffic. Now she realized, after the woman’s admission, that the business had not entirely dealt with the buying and selling of rarities. She knew something of the Red Wizards.
As she scrutinized her owner’s face, Tazi had another recollection. She had barged into her father’s study in typical spoiled fashion to demand something of him years back. What it was she had wanted, Tazi could no longer recall and that loss saddened her momentarily. But she remembered that her father had a beautiful, black-haired woman sitting opposite him at his beloved chess table. Tazi had backed away nervously, thinking that perhaps she had interrupted one of his many dalliances. He later told her that the woman was a business acquaintance, but Tazi never pursued the subject with him, preferring not to know the sordid details of his life. Now she realized that same woman was seated opposite her now. Recognition washed over her features.
“Naglatha,” she breathed, finally placing her name.
“We are well met, Thazienne Uskevren,” she acknowledged in return, and Tazi could see she was pleased with Tazi’s memory. She rose from the table and padded over to the carved desk. Tazi watched as she passed her hand over an empty spot on the desk, and a sack appeared suddenly. Tazi shivered, realizing she was the unwilling company of a wizard. She wondered more and more just what it was that she was going to have to do for this woman.
Naglatha came back to the table and Tazi knew she was enjoying the little game. She stood next to Tazi and unceremoniously dumped her worn sack onto the table with a dull, heavy thud. She then resumed her seat and, with bended elbows, rested her chin on her hands.
“Enough of the cat and mouse,” she brusquely informed Tazi. “I can see on your face that you realize I want something from you; that much is obvious. I have been looking for the right person for some time now, and fate has conspired to cross our paths. You are that person. Of that I am most certain now.
“This is an important task that is not without risk,” she continued, and Tazi crossed her arms expectantly.
“Nevertheless, as the risk is great, the reward is commensurate to it.”
“Well, I would certainly hope so,” Tazi quipped. “But what could you possibly have to offer me that would be of the slightest interest?”
“Simply put, I can give you your freedom,” Naglatha offered.
“I can take that for myself,” Tazi said with deadly seriousness. Naglatha chose to ignore the tone of her voice.
“No … no, you can’t. And I know the magistrate explained that portion of Thayan law to you most carefully,” she responded in a motherly tone of rebuke.
“Then you have no offer to make,” Tazi rebutted.
“Oh, but I most assuredly do,” she promised. “I have means at my disposal, too complicated to explain right now, to accomplish the impossible task. Let me just put it this way,” she told Tazi and leaned back in her chair, “I have the means to ‘erase’ your name from the ledgers. To, in fact, strike out the entire incident as though it never happened. No crime, no record, no punishment. You will be completely free under Thayan law.
“And,” she motioned to the worn sack in front of Tazi, “you can even take your crimson gold with you. Though, I have to admit, it has some interesting properties I am not completely familiar with. Even still, it is yours once more.”
Tazi’s eyes flickered to the sack for a moment before returning to meet Naglatha’s penetrating stare.
“Now,” she told Tazi, “you may be thinking as you sit there so comfortably, that you don’t need this offer. You may believe that you will find a way to escape on your own.” She paused to lean forward a touch. “You may be right. You are a resourceful woman, and I actually have no doubt you could escape. If you couldn’t accomplish that simple feat, you’d be no good to me.”
“Since you know I will,” Tazi promised her, “why bother with the pretense of this offer?”
Naglatha smiled and slowly rose to her feet. She moved gracefully around the table to stand behind Tazi. Tazi could feel Naglatha place her hands on her shoulders with a strong grip and lean down toward her right ear.
“For the simple fact that if you betray me, Thazienne Uskevren, or run away, or even refuse me, you will pay most dearly. You forget, I know where it is that you call home. Don’t doubt the extent of my reach. I can always find your family.” She released Tazi’s shoulders and walked around the table to stand opposite her.
“You have lost one parent, and I know how heartbreaking that can be. Would you care to try for two?”
Tazi lost control of her restraint at the veiled threat to her mother and jumped to her feet, knocking over the small table as she did so. Everything tumbled to the floor with a clatter. Amidst the shinning shards of the now-broken goblets, the red gold spilled out like glowing coals. Before Tazi could make another move, Naglatha’s bodyguards grabbed her. She didn’t struggle, though Milos twisted her arms behind her back and held her while Heraclos moved to flank Naglatha. Tazi knew this was not the place.
“I can see I’ve struck a nerve,” Naglatha said in a voice that Tazi realized was only mock apology. “My intent was only to stress a point, no more than that. I am generous by nature, so I will give you the entire night to think on what I’ve said. With a good night’s rest, I’m very certain you will come to the right decision. You may rejoin your mysterious c
ompanion now.”
Without waiting for a response from Tazi, Naglatha waved her hand to Milos, and their interview was over. As Milos led her from the chamber, Tazi could hear Naglatha ordering Heraclos.
“Clean this clutter up before I cut my feet on something,” she snapped at the remaining guard in a much harsher tone than she had reserved for Tazi.
“Yes, milady,” Tazi heard Heraclos acquiesce.
While she marched down the hallway to her room, Tazi’s mind raced, trying to weigh her options. Either she did this woman’s bidding or let her family face some nameless threat. With a dread certainty, she came to the conclusion that she really had no choice at all.
22 and 23 Mirtul, 1373 DR
Tazi sat in shocked silence. She let her hands rest on her knees, and she looked at the nearby wall with a blank expression on her face. Her mind, though, was far from blank, as she turned over the recent events in her head. Her brain was like a dog worrying a bone; she kept playing the words over again and again, trying to make sense of them, looking at them from every angle. Tazi wasn’t even aware of the close scrutiny her sullen companion gave her.
“What is it?” demanded the duergar. It was first time he had had spoken to her since they had been taken from the auction square. Tazi barely heard him.
“Hmm …” she vaguely replied.
“What do they want?” he asked her again.
The dwarf was standing only a few feet from her. She suspected he had also taken advantage of the bath water as even his gray skin looked less grimy. Tazi also detected the faintest whiff of the sandalwood soap. Nothing could be done for his dirty pants and tunic, though the drab colors of the material muted the stains. She looked closely at him, taking his measure, and she weighed her options carefully. She decided to risk a chance and take the duergar into her confidence.
“What’s your name?” she asked him. Tazi could see he was surprised by her question.
The Crimson Gold Page 10