Avenger botm-3

by Richard Baker

  “Lord Terov?” A short, stocky officer waited on the steps leading inside. “I am Edelmark, captain of the Council Guard. Please allow me to show you inside. The master mage will see you soon.”

  “Very well.” Motioning for his retainers to dismount and wait for him, Terov followed the mercenary captain inside, Saavi trailing a step behind him. Edelmark showed them to an antechamber first and allowed the Vaasans a quarter hour to shed their muddy outer garments, warm themselves from their ride, and take some refreshment. Then he returned to lead Terov through the castle’s maze of interior passageways and up several flights of stairs to a parlor whose windows looked out over the rooftops of the town below. Two council guards stood in front of the door, and saluted him as he approached before opening the door for the Vaasans and their captain.

  The elf mage Rhovann stood by the large iron hearth in the parlor, glancing through several pieces of correspondence. Terov noticed that his right hand was covered by a glove, while his left was bare. Beneath his scarlet mantle, Rhovann wore a white tunic of elven graysilk embroidered with golden trees. As the Vaasans were shown in, the wizard set a piece of parchment down on a small writing desk littered with correspondence, and gave Terov a small bow. “A good morning to you, Lord Terov,” he said. “I am Rhovann Disarnnyl, master mage of Hulburg and chief counselor to the harmach. Captain Edelmark I see you have already met. I must say, this is something of an unexpected pleasure.”

  “I thank you for agreeing to receive me on such short notice,” Terov answered. He motioned to his sorceress. “My nishaadhri, Saavi. You might think of her as a bodyguard and advisor.”

  Edelmark studied the veiled sorceress more closely, while Rhovann gave her a mere nod; she was, after all, his servant. “Come, let’s sit down,” the mage said. He indicated several comfortable chairs arranged to face the fire.

  Terov took the chair opposite, and motioned for Saavi to sit beside him. He glanced around the room, and frowned. “Forgive me, but will the harmach be joining us?”

  “Possibly. He is but lately recovered from a long and severe illness and I am afraid that he must take care not to overexert himself. It falls on me to shoulder what duties I can to spare Harmach Maroth’s health.”

  Terov frowned. He’d thought that he would be meeting the harmach today … but it seemed that would not be the case. It seems that our reports were accurate enough, he thought. The mage was clearly the power behind the throne. He considered insisting on speaking with the harmach, but decided that the most direct path to his goals likely led through his master mage anyway. “Perhaps later, then,” he said. “I have heard that he has been slowly resuming his public offices.”

  “He has.” Rhovann allowed himself a small smile. “I will, of course, arrange a formal reception of your embassy before the harmach’s seat soon enough. But first I would like to get to the business of your visit, so that Harmach Maroth can be spared unnecessary details. Tell me, what brings a lord of Vaasa to Hulburg?”

  “Hulburg has been much on my mind of late,” Terov began. “We have followed events here with interest over the last year. Harmach Grigor was too weak to assert control over Hulburg’s affairs, but your able administration offers the greatest promise we’ve seen from Hulburg in many years. We are pleased to see an end to Hulburg’s disorders, but we believe that some of your other neighbors are much less pleased. Under Grigor Hulmaster, Hulburg could be safely ignored. Under Maroth Marstel”-Terov’s crimson gaze did not waver from Rhovann’s face, tacitly acknowledging the mage’s evident influence-“Hulburg is now a potential rival to cities such as Thentia or Mulmaster, and a power to be reckoned with.”

  “We’re flattered by your estimation of our talents, Lord Terov,” Rhovann added in a dry voice. “However, I am not entirely certain I see your point.”

  “Only this, Master Mage: you lack friends. Thentia has blood ties, albeit distant ones, to the old Hulmasters. Hillsfar and Melvaunt see you as a rising rival. Mulmaster simply lusts after the land and resources of the north coast. Recent events have swept Hulburg into dangerous new waters.” Terov clenched a fist, cupping it in the palm of his other hand. “It would be well for Hulburg to have a strong ally. Vaasa can guarantee Hulburg’s security against any Moonsea state.”

  Rhovann leaned forward in his chair. “I see that Hulburg would gain the shield of Vaasan power against our Moonsea rivals,” the mage replied. “But I am not sure what interest Vaasa has in Hulburg’s security, Lord Terov.”

  “We seek a window on the west, Lord Rhovann. We are hemmed in by hostile lands to our east and south, and to the north lies nothing but unendurable ice. However, we believe that a trade road could be established through the Galenas to Hulburg’s fine port. Naturally, the cost of driving a road through the mountains-and clearing a dozen orc chiefs and goblin kings out of our path-would be considerable. We’re not willing to undertake it unless we know that Hulburg will welcome Vaasan trade, and the forces necessary to protect that trade. There must be certain guarantees on Hulburg’s part.”

  “What sort of guarantees?” Rhovann asked mildly.

  “A sworn alliance with the harmach. We place great importance on an oath freely sworn. It rightfully binds both giver and recipient. There must be no possibility of evasion.”

  “Your iron rings, of course,” Rhovann murmured, steepling his fingertips before him. Terov was not surprised that the mage understood what Vaasa’s lords required. Most folk in the lands near Vaasa knew the story of the Warlock Knights’ rings, devices that were often enchanted to make oaths sworn to their wearers-and oaths their wearers swore-inescapable. He thought the question over for a long moment. “You ask much, Lord Terov. The harmach has little interest in providing himself with strict and attentive masters, oaths or no oaths.”

  Terov frowned. “I think you overlook the advantages of the arrangement,” the Warlock Knight replied. “Needless to say, tolls and tariffs alone stand to greatly enrich the rulers of Hulburg. There would be a need for more laborers to unload ships, drivers to muster and guide caravans, more armsmen to guard them … within five years Hulburg would be the richest city on the north shore. In ten you might eclipse Mulmaster and Hillsfar as well.”

  “Few of our merchant costers would care to find Vaasan traders pushing them out of Hulburg,” Edelmark remarked. “Whatever we gained in new commerce, we’d lose from costers such as House Veruna or the Iron Ring. And Mulmaster’s fleet is a lot closer to Hulburg than promises of Vaasan assistance.”

  Rhovann held up a hand, motioning Edelmark to silence. “I am not unaware of that, Captain. But it hurts nothing to hear Lord Terov out. What terms does Vaasa suggest, my lord?”

  “In exchange for hosting a Vaasan trade concession, we can place a garrison of five hundred Vaasan soldiers at the harmach’s service. And, as I said, the harmach would be entitled to collect tolls on trade bound to and from Vaasa. I am sure the exact details of trade arrangements can be worked out. Do you agree in principle?”

  “The final decision will be the harmach’s, of course. I must consult with him. As you have pointed out, agreements with Vaasa are not to be entered into lightly.” Rhovann shrugged. “It is a serious decision, and we must weigh your proposal with care.”

  “As you wish. Take all the time to consider the question that you like.” The Vaasan lord’s lips twitched in a small smile at the notion of consultations with the harmach. Rhovann seemed to think that he could toy with him as long as he liked, dallying with Vaasa at his own convenience. Well, Terov was not accustomed to being ignored. He decided that the master mage of Hulburg could use a small reminder that he was not to be trifled with. “Of course, you will understand that if Harmach Maroth fails to come to an understanding with Vaasa in a timely manner, we will have no choice but to consider other alternatives. We are already engaged in certain preliminary steps to ensure that our interests are well looked after.”

  Rhovann narrowed his eyes. “Such as the bungled assassination in Thentia?” Th
e mage paused, studying the effect of his words; Edelmark scowled at Terov, but said nothing. “Yes, I am quite well informed about Vaasa’s machinations in Hulburg. You see, I have had several revealing conversations with High Prelate Valdarsel-well, his corpse-in the last tenday. I know now that he was a Vaasan agent who reported to you. And I know that he commissioned the attack on the Hulmasters in Thentia at your direction, a provocative act to say the least. So spare me your threats, Lord Terov.”

  “You should not have left the Hulmasters alive in the first place,” Terov retorted. “I had no choice but to direct Valdarsel to eliminate the Hulmasters in exile. Any other Moonsea power-say, Melvaunt or Hillsfar-looking for an excuse to take control of Hulburg might do so under the pretense of ‘restoring’ the Hulmasters to their throne. Vaasa could not permit it.”

  “My reasons for leaving the Hulmasters alive are my own,” Rhovann replied. “I wonder if you realize how much sympathy you created for the Hulmaster cause with your ill-considered attack.”

  An angry reply came to Terov’s lips, but with iron effort he swallowed his annoyance. “Valdarsel’s failure was regrettable,” he admitted. “Had he succeeded, all the sympathy in the world wouldn’t have mattered for the Hulmasters. Unfortunately for both of us, the Hulmasters still live, and the possibility that some other kingdom might intervene on their behalf still exists. The best way to avert it is for the harmach to align himself with Vaasa-sooner rather than later. Your hold on power depends on it.”

  Rhovann, on the other hand, frowned thoughtfully, weighing Terov’s point at length. “I am not so sure of that.” He stood, and gestured toward the door. “Accompany me for a moment, my lord. I want to show you something.”

  “As you wish,” Terov replied. He rose to his feet and followed Rhovann; Saavi glided along a step behind him, and then Edelmark a few paces to the rear. The elf wizard led Terov through the castle halls to a broad staircase, descending to the floor below-halls and chambers built up around the living rock of Griffonwatch’s hilltop, if he had his bearings straight. They came to a long hallway with windows on one side looking out the sheer face of the crag. At the end of the hallway stood two towering, black-armored creatures whose faces were hidden behind grim iron visors. They guarded a door at the end of the hallway, halberds held motionless in their thick gray hands. Beneath their breastplates, their rune-marked flesh was sculpted into textureless slabs of claylike muscle.

  Rhovann paused by the two guardians, turning to face the Vaasans again. “My runehelms,” he said, indicating the warriors with an absent wave. “Strong, fearless, nearly impossible to overwhelm through force of arms, and absolutely loyal to me. Very useful, as you might imagine.”

  “We have observed your creatures garrisoning the town,” Terov replied. “As you say, a useful magic indeed. But a handful of battle constructs won’t deter Mulmaster or Melvaunt should they decide to land an army on your shores. They’d likely bring war machines of their own.”

  “Not like these,” the wizard replied with a small smile. He motioned the runehelms aside, and murmured the words of a passage spell to unlock the door they guarded. The room inside had been converted from a small banquet hall into a great laboratory. Cluttered tables lined the walls, covered with a fortune in imported glassware and urns full of alchemical reagents. A row of leaded-glass windows across the room offered little in the way of a view, but was sufficient to illuminate the room. To the left, eight great copper vats were arranged in a row along the near wall. “Come, Bastion,” Rhovann said. “I need your assistance.”

  A hulking creature even larger than the runehelms outside stirred and silently stood. “Yes,” it said in a deep, rumbling voice. Terov studied the creature with interest; he hadn’t ever seen a golem imbued with the power of speech, no matter how limited. Clearly Rhovann was quite skilled in the creation of such devices. At the mage’s gesture, the golem moved to the first of the copper vats, lifted its heavy lid, and began to pour a gray powder from a large wooden cask into the dark fluid inside.

  “As much as I might like to create more servants such as Bastion, it simply isn’t practical,” Rhovann remarked as he observed the golem adding the powder to the vat. The hooded golem moved on to the next vat, opened it, and began to pour out more powder. “Instead, I devised my runehelms. As you can see, they are grown in these vessels.”

  Terov looked into the vats as the wizard’s golem servant opened them one by one to add the reagents. In every one, the powerful form of a new runehelm floated in a bath of dark ichor, each progressively larger and more intact. The last was not animated yet, but it seemed to the Warlock Knight that it was otherwise complete, except for one detail: it possessed no facial features at all, only a blank visage of damp gray clay. “How long does it take you to grow one of your alchemical warriors?” he asked.

  “Twelve days from start to finish. With eight vessels, I can manufacture twenty or so a month.” Rhovann briefly inspected the creatures taking shape in the vats, and nodded to Bastion. The hooded golem closed each vat one by one, locking the lid with a heavy bar.

  Terov glanced to his bound sorceress. Saavi replied with an imperceptible shrug, admitting that this was something outside her experience. She glanced at the complicated equipment filling the room, and said, “Fashioning the bodies is one thing, Lord Rhovann, but I am curious as to how you instill them with the semblance of life. That is no simple enchantment.”

  The elf laughed softly. “That is a professional secret, I fear. For now, all you need know is that animating the runehelms presents me with no great difficulties.” He motioned to the door. “I think we are done here for now.”

  “I thank you for the interesting demonstration, Lord Rhovann,” Terov said. “However, I am not sure I understand why you shared this with me.”

  “I want you to understand that I am very confident in the defenses I have woven around Hulburg, my lord Terov. You will have to offer me something more substantial than dark hints about foreign adventures if you wish me to support a Vaasan presence in Hulburg … something very substantial indeed if you intend to bring Hulburg entirely within Vaasa’s orbit.”

  Terov’s eerily crimson eyes flickered, but he made no other show of disappointment. “I see. What sort of incentive do you have in mind?”

  “For a start, I believe that the priests of Cyric and their Cinderfist allies have outlived their usefulness. They were helpful in the overthrow of the Hulmasters, but now they are something of a liability. Before the harmach agrees to any Vaasan concession, we would have to be guaranteed that no more Vaasan gold or arms will go toward our dissatisfied citizenry.”

  Terov considered the question in silence for a long time. He had little liking for the elf, but he could not deny that Rhovann appeared to be very well entrenched in Hulburg. His best chance to bring Hulburg within Vaasa’s influence was most probably by working with Rhovann, and not against him. After all, Rhovann was the power currently in possession of Hulburg. The Warlock Knights would hardly need to throw gold and mercenaries at Rhovann to keep him in power, but they’d have to spend, and spend dearly, to support his overthrow.

  “It might be that we could exercise our influence with the clergy of Cyric and see to it that your request is met,” he finally said.

  “Good. And we would also need some guarantee that you are not supporting the Hulmasters in any way.”

  The Warlock Knight snorted in amusement. “Having gone to some trouble to allow our sympathizers in Hulburg to help Lord Marstel in his coup, it would seem counterproductive to then begin dealing with the Hulmasters now.” Unless the Hulmasters came to Vaasa in a position of extreme need, in which case Terov might indeed have considered reversing course. Of course, Rhovann did not need to know that.

  “I take that to mean that you do not object to giving me some guarantee on that score,” Rhovann replied. “Very well: if you withdraw your support for the Cinderfists and remain disengaged from the Hulmasters, I will allow a Vaasan concession, subjec
t to our normal laws of concession-which limit the size of your garrison, I should note. Is that agreeable to you?”

  “It is,” Terov said. A mercantile concession was only a small part of what he wished from Hulburg, but it was a useful first step. In time, that narrow opening might be widened. He held up his fist; the iron ring all Warlock Knights wore gleamed on his right ring finger. “Swear to it on my iron ring, and I will swear too.”

  Rhovann shook his head. “I will not place myself under your geas, no matter how specific or limited. You will simply have to trust me, and I in turn will trust you. We both stand to gain from our bargain; most people in the world make do with that.”

  Terov studied Rhovann’s face for a long moment. It seemed that the master mage of Hulburg would not be so easily ensnared. “So be it. As a gesture of goodwill, allow me to add this word of warning: you can expect the Hulmasters to march in the second tenday of Ches. Kara Hulmaster hasn’t been as careful in her hiring of sellswords as she should be. A few of her armsmen are sworn”-he held up his ring again-“to our service, and have provided agents of ours in Thentia with some insight into the Hulmaster plans.”

  “That agrees with what I have observed with my own spies, although I hadn’t expected them to march quite that early,” Rhovann said. “My thanks, Lord Terov. I look forward to our next meeting. Now, when would you like to be introduced to Harmach Maroth? I think you’ll find him quite reasonable.”

  SIXTEEN

  15 Alturiak, the Year of Deep Water Drifting (1480 DR)

  The night in Myth Drannor was cold and fogbound. The silver lanterns that served as the city’s streetlamps were few and far between in the chill mists; weak halos of light surrounded each, quickly giving way to the heavy murk. Geran regarded the weather as a great stroke of luck; not even elves cared to linger out in the streets, and the mists would make it much harder for any patrolling guards to notice him and his friends while they were in places they weren’t supposed to be. As midnight approached, the streets fell still.