Realms of infamy a-2

by Ed Greenwood

  The aughisky, knowing her fear, snorted gleefully and gave her a little shake.

  “No!” Teza almost shrieked. “No.” She choked on her words and quickly forced down the hysterical note in her voice. “No! Please, put me down on the ledge. I can’t swim, and I hate water. But I love horses, especially magnificent animals like you.” Teza realized she was beginning to babble, but she didn’t care. “That’s why I wanted you. You’re the most beautiful stallion I’ve ever seen. Please, just put me down on that solid rock, and I will do anything for you! Do you hear me?” she shouted into the empty air. “Anything!”

  “Do I have your word that you will do anything to regain your freedom?” a voice said behind Teza.

  Teza flinched in surprise. Aughisky couldn’t speak, even when their mouths weren’t full of belt, so who else could be on this cliff ledge? She could not see behind her from her precarious position, and the voice, cool and modulated, gave nothing away about its owner. Teza’s suspicion belatedly raised its prickly head. “Who are you?”

  “You are not in a position to ask questions,” the voice replied reasonably. “All I want is your word.”

  Teza swallowed hard. “Yes,” she said as clearly as she could manage. “My honor.”

  The aughisky snorted in obvious disappointment. He took One step back and turned, keeping Teza hanging by her belt.

  The ledge the aughisky had brought her to was a wide Shelf jutting out from the middle of a towering cliff wall. Teza had to crane her neck to see the rock face that soared above their heads to the top of the bluffs. As far as she could see, the ledge and the cliff wall were empty. Grass, weeds, and a few hardy shrubs grew among the rocks, and shadows streaked the walls, but there were no other living creatures and no real hiding places.

  Then something moved against the stone face of the cliff, a shifting among the long, dark shadows. A black figure stepped away from the stone wall, and its masked form became clear to Teza.

  She sucked in her breath and tried to quell her panic as the figure strode toward her, black robes swaying around her graceful feminine body. The being carried no weapons, and Teza knew she needed none. The impassive gray masks worn by the witches of Rashemen were warning enough of the vast and deadly powers wielded by the mysterious women.

  “Put her down,” the witch ordered.

  The aughisky obeyed by simply opening his mouth. Teza fell heavily at his hooves. Immediately she scrambled out from under him and away from his teeth.

  The water horse made a move to stop her, but the witch lifted a hand. “No. She will not leave us. Teza’s word has honor even among thieves.”

  The woman from Immilmar rose slowly to her full height, threw back her shoulders, and stared at the expressionless mask with her own habitual arrogant facade-a facade that hid her nervousness and fear.

  Teza, through her profession, had learned to be very observant. She drew on that skill now, hoping to divert her apprehension with some bit of knowledge that could be to her advantage. She quickly noticed several things that interested her. The witch’s hands were smooth and supple, like those of a young woman, and her voice, while strong with authority, was still rich with youth. This was a younger witch, not one of the old crones who had tested Teza those years ago. And somehow, she had learned to control an aughisky. That fact fascinated Teza almost more than anything else.

  “You brought me here deliberately,” Teza said evenly. It was not an accusation, just an observation.

  “I have need of your particular talents,” replied the witch.

  Teza made a sound of disbelief and hid the shaking of her hands by brushing off her pants. “Why not just ask? I can hardly refuse one of your number.”

  “It was faster this way. You left Immilmar so quickly I had to send the aughisky to find you.”

  “Yes, well… I was tired of the city.”

  “Particularly after the huhrong found one of his prize white stallions dyed brown and for sale in the horse market.”

  The witch’s voice was so full of humor, Teza easily imagined a smile behind that enigmatic mask. She responded with a smile of her own. “He always did have a good eye for horseflesh.” Her voice dropped, and she crossed her arms. “So what do you want?”

  “I want you to do what you do best. I want you to steal something for me.”

  Teza did not allow herself to react. “A horse?”

  “A man.”

  Teza was so startled her mouth fell open. “A man! I’m a horse thief, not a kidnapper!” she cried, throwing up her hands. “What do you want with a man?”

  “I need him,” the witch replied simply.

  “Why don’t you get him yourself?”

  “Let’s just say it will be easier for you to fetch him and bring him here.” The witch fell silent, her gray mask nearly lost in the hood’s shadow. Without offering another word of explanation, she moved closer to the aughisky and waited.

  Teza sighed a breath of exasperation. She had given her word to do anything-and even without that, to disobey a witch’s command was suicide. Yet somehow, there had to be something in this for herself. “What do I do?” she asked.

  The witch lifted a slender hand. There was a rush of noise and a pillar of red light formed directly beside Teza.The thief leapt sideways just as a richly dressed man rode out of the red light and brought his horse to a stop. He nodded pleasantly to the witch.

  Teza’s eyebrows rose. She recognized the man immediately, for she had seen his long, dark features several times in the past tendays. “Prince Laric,” she said, bowing to the mounted man. “What are you doing here?”

  The man’s pleasant smile suddenly twisted into a sneer.

  The witch’s laugh held a subtle hum of triumph. “He does look exactly like the real grand prince of Telflamm, but this is a duplicate who has graciously consented to stand in for Prince Laric while the prince comes to visit me.” The witch’s voice lowered to a throaty purr. “Laric, you see, is my lover.”

  Dusk was falling when Teza rode the aughisky on the road back to Immilmar, this time at a more relaxed pace and with the grand prince, or whatever he was, riding by her side.

  For the hundredth time she glanced at the man. He was certainly handsome in a noble, polished sort of way, and he did look exactly like the prince: tall, slender build, long face. But who was he really?

  The witch wanted Teza to switch him for the real prince for a few days so Laric could meet her for a tryst. Teza knew the witches sometimes sought men outside the realm for matters of procreation, and discretion was certainly necessary when dealing with married noblemen from an allied city, but why set up such an elaborate switch and why trick a common horse thief into performing this task?

  Teza couldn’t help thinking that the members of the powerful sisterhood of witches rarely did anything for simple, purely selfish reasons. They were the real power behind Rashemen’s continued existence, and any plot or spell they devised usually had several layers of motives behind it.

  Teza shook her head. She had a thousand questions, no answers, and a totally silent companion. The aughisky was no help either. She was sure the witch had sent him along to keep an eye on her. Yet, she didn’t mind his company. When the aughisky was not trying to drown her, he was a joy to ride. His stride flowed like silk and his coat was velvet beneath her hands. The urge to possess him swelled within her until even the plans to switch the prince dimmed in her mind. She had to have this fabulous horse, cold breath and all. There had to be some way to control the beast without ending up as a liver floating on the shores of Lake Ashane.

  She mulled over that possibility all the way back to the edge of the Ashanwoods. There she stopped and sought out the hollow log where she had stashed her gear earlier that morning. While the false prince and the aughisky waited, Teza sorted through her packs and picked out exactly what she would need.

  At the same time, she tried to remember everything she knew about the grand prince’s camp. The real Prince Laric and his ento
urage had been ensconced on the outskirts of Immilmar for two tendays while the grand prince attended meetings with the huhrong and his advisors. No one in the city knew what the talks were about, but knowing Prince Lane’s limited influence and power even within his own city of Telflamm, Teza doubted the talks amounted to much.

  Not that she really cared. She had been too interested in visiting the Telflamm delegation. Laric’s huge camp had proven to be a delightful change from her normal haunts in Immilmar, teeming with bulging purses and more horses than the grooms could keep watch on. She had learned the layout of the camp and even had a few guards she could count on for a favor or two. Getting near Prince Laric’s commodious lodgings was not going to be difficult. The challenge would be avoiding the Fang honor guard stationed around the borders of the camp. They knew her too well.

  Fortunately she had a few disguises they hadn’t seen yet. Stepping behind the aughisky, she stripped off the tunic she had worn out of the city and untied the special undervest she often wore when she dressed as a man. A long, flowing red skirt was pulled over her pants, and a white, low-cut blouse was added that barely hid the ample evidence of Teza’s true sex. She took out a few pins, and her thick brown hair came tumbling down her shoulders.

  When she came around the water horse, the impostor lifted an elegant eyebrow. “My dear, you hid a butterfly beneath those rags,” he observed.

  Teza grinned wickedly. “So! The false prince can speak.”

  “When there is reason,” he said. He waved a long, manicured hand to the setting sun. “Will you be ready soon?”

  In reply Teza fastened her small carry bag to her belt, packed another bag with her discarded clothes, and slipped a new dagger into a decorative sheath at her waist. Soon they were riding again toward Immilmar in the deepening twilight.

  “It’s generous of you to give up a few days of your time to play this charade for your friend,” Teza commented idly.

  A faint smile twisted the lips of the man beside her. “Yes,” he agreed, his voice low. “A friend.”

  “But tell me in truth,” she went on in the same half bored, half wheedling tone. “Who are you really?”

  The smile deepened to a self-satisfied sneer that made the imposter’s handsome face look cruel. “It matters not.”

  Teza nodded. “I suppose it doesn’t. But my curiosity is piqued. Since I must deliver you no matter what, what harm will it do to tell me your true nature?”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” the man chuckled. Something in his voice brought her head around, and she saw the prince’s form begin to blur. His tall frame dwindled to half the proper size; his limbs turned to gnarled, misshapen sticks. The chiseled features of the nobleman became lumps set on a bald, distorted head.

  Teza took one horrified look at the grotesque creature with skin like a knobby old fungus and even her experienced stomach lurched. “A boggan,” she whispered. They were one of the particularly loathsome forms of goblins that inhabited the underworld beneath Faerun. They were vicious, cunning shapeshifters who could change their appearance at will. Teza had no notion the witches ever dealt with them. Of course after meeting the aughisky, she shouldn’t have been surprised. This particular witch seemed to have a liking for nasty creatures.

  With another chuckle the boggan resumed his princely guise. “You asked,” he smirked.

  Teza bit her lip, her curiosity more than satisfied. All she wanted to do now was get this boggan to the prince’s camp and make the switch. Then the prince’s retainers could deal with it!

  Teza and her charge rode silently after that. They soon completed the short ride to Immilmar and arrived at a ridge that commanded a full view of the grand prince’s camp. Tents, supply wagons, and strings of picketed horses crowded to the foot of the high ridge and spread out like a makeshift village. To the north, the city of Immilmar and the huhrong’s hulking palace sat like a black bulwark against the night sky. To the west lay the vast, whispering depths of Lake Ashane.

  “Don’t wander off,” Teza told the aughisky as she slid off his back.

  The black water horse turned his head toward the lake and stamped his hoof irritably.

  The boggan sneered, “He won’t go far. Not as long as she holds the hippomane.”

  It took every ounce of self-control for Teza not to react to that statement or to show any sign of the excitement that burst in her. A hippomane? Is that what it took to master an aughisky? Her hand surreptitiously slid to her carry bag and the little cache of treasures she always carried with her. In there was a crystal vial containing a dark brown lump of dried flesh snatched from the forehead of a newborn foal. She had stolen the hippomane and carried it for years in the hope that an opportunity to use its powerful attraction charm would come her way. Maybe this was her chance. Perhaps the aughisky could be lured away with her own little bit of magic.

  Teza shot a quick look at the boggan who was studying the camp below. As silently as she could, she drew the vial out of her bag and pulled the cap off. The small dried lump fell into her hand.

  The hippomane had a dull but distinctively spicy smell. The aughisky’s nostrils flared; his eyes glowed green in the darkness. Teza rubbed the hippomane across her palm, then offered her hand to the water horse to smell. He took a step toward her.

  “That’s right,” she whispered. “Remember that smell, my friend. If the opportunity conies, will you follow me?” The aughisky bobbed his head.

  Teza couldn’t be sure the water horse understood her words or would obey the power of her hippomane, but the charm seemed to have some effect on the beast. To make the spell permanent she had to swallow the hippomane in the aughisky’s presence, and even then she didn’t know if the magic would be enough to break the witch’s own charm. If the opportunity came to test her hippomane, Teza could only hope it would work. Sighing, she slipped the hippomane back into the vial and tucked it into her bag. When she looked up, she saw the boggan grinning at her.

  “You covet the beast, don’t you?” he said.

  Teza shrugged. How could she explain her desire to own this horse? He was deadly, but he was rare and fantastically beautiful.

  “He could kill you if you are careless,” the boggan observed.

  “I know. So could the witch if she caught me stealing her aughisky.”

  The false prince smirked. “That is true. But I like you. You are cunning, greedy, and as interesting as that beast. I will give you something to think about. The witch has other useful pets. One more or less may not disturb her.”

  Teza looked from the man to the horse and back again. It was stupid to risk her life on the mere supposition of a boggan. And yet, if he was right, she had a chance to gain an aughisky-the prize of a lifetime.

  Teza tucked his words away with her hopes and set her mind on the task at hand. The moon was rising above the eastern hills and the witch was waiting for her lover.

  With the boggan close on her heels, Teza worked her way down the slope of the ridge to the southern edge of the Telflamm camp. Large piles of boxes, bags, and supplies, lines of wagons, and the tents of the servants and camp followers marked the beginning of the impromptu community that had sprung up during the grand prince’s visit to Immilmar. Every evening men-at-arms, mercenaries, merchants, thieves, prostitutes, and townsfolk gathered in this part of the camp for pleasure and business. Teza knew from experience that it would be easy to mingle in.

  First, however, she had to get past the two Fang guardsmen who stood, hands on sword hilts, beside the path into the camp. If they recognized her, they would certainly try to detain her over that little matter of the iron lord’s stolen horse.

  It would be best if they didn’t see the false prince either. She turned to the boggan and came face to face with a strange man. Her hand flew to her dagger, but before she drew it, the man leered at her. The boggan had already anticipated their problem and altered his features.

  “Chase me,” she snapped to the boggan. She pulled her bodice down her should
ers until her cleavage gleamed in the moonlight. Then she sprang out onto the trail and ran laughing toward the guardsmen. She did not slow down or hesitate, but darted past the startled warriors, giggling and waving her bag to the man running behind her.

  The Rashemen guards saw only the flash of her white blouse and the Telflamm emblem on the nobleman’s velvet robes before Teza and her charge were past and moving into the crowded camp. The guardsmen merely shrugged and resumed their watchful stance.

  Once among the tents, Teza quickly obtained a flagon of jhuild, Immilmar firewine, and thrust it into the boggan’s hands. “You are drunk and having a wonderful time,” she whispered to him, and he was quick to follow her suggestion.

  Soon they were wending a haphazard way among bright Paths and merry people, heading toward the center of the camp and the grand prince’s tent. Along the way Teza acquired another flagon of firewine, a big wedge of her favorite Sjorl cheese, and the purse of an Immilmar merchant, which she tucked out of sight in her wide, woven belt.

  As soon as they reached the grand prince’s inner circle, the boggan stepped into a deep shadow and changed his features back to match Laric’s. Teza took his arm and they walked toward the ring of Telflamm honor guards who stood watch on the prince’s lodging. One guard saw them and snapped to attention. “Your Highness,” he gasped. “I didn’t know you were out.”

  “I had a hunger,” the boggan said cheerfully before Teza could speak. He slipped an arm around her waist and gave the soldier a broad wink.

  The guard grinned at Teza and bowed, and the false prince hurried them past.

  “Over there, the big gold tent with the banners,” Teza hissed. Her heart was drumming as it always did when a big job was nearing its completion. She felt excitement and nervousness thrill through her in an exhilarating rush.

  The tent was dark and still as they approached. They were almost to the entrance when Teza spotted a royal guardsman just outside the doorway. His dark gray surcoat and mail blended into the night shadows. She doubted he could see them very well either, and her suspicion was confirmed when his harsh voice snapped, “Halt! The prince may not be disturbed.”