Before Amberglas could reply, there was a groan from the far side of the tower. Vandaris’s head jerked around and she motioned to the sentries. One of them gave her the torch he was holding and faded into the darkness, while the other started forward, sword in hand. Eltiron heard another groan, then a series of scuffling noises and a loud scream. A moment later the sentries returned, dragging a burly man in the bedraggled uniform of a Border Guard of Sevairn. His face was covered with small red blotches, and he was screaming in evident terror.
“Now what?” Vandaris muttered.
“How very interesting,” Amberglas said. “It’s Captain Morenar. At least, that’s who it was a month ago, but perhaps he’s changed since then; I don’t believe it would have been at all bad for him.”
“You!” The Border Guard stared wild-eyed at Amberglas. “You brought the brown fog and made us walk, but I came back and got him out to call about you, only the red mist came, and it burns and burns and burns. . . .” He collapsed, sobbing.
“Well, at least he’s getting quieter.” Vandaris looked at Amberglas. “You know him?”
“Not really,” Amberglas said. “We met once, when he was chasing Jermain Trevannon in Barinash, which was not at all justified. Still, I really don’t believe that’s a particularly good reason to be rude. I sent him to the Dragoncrest Mountains.”
“He’s the one who was trying to kill Jermain?” Eltiron said, and the pieces came together in his mind. “I knew Terrel was behind it!”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Vandaris said. “And I’d bet he’s the other one who helped Lassond escape. Not that it did either of them much good.”
“Do you think—” Eltiron was interrupted by another loud scream from the prisoner.
“Carachel knows!” he shrieked. “Carachel knows about you now! I told the lord and the lord came here and told him, before the red thing came, before it came, before—”
“He’s madder than Marreth,” Vandaris said disgustedly. “Who stuck the bat in his skull?”
“I rather think the edge of the Matholych touched him, which would certainly account for his extremely odd behavior, though he didn’t have that excuse the first time, and perhaps—”
Another scream from Morenar interrupted her. He lunged forward, breaking free of the guards, and reached for Amberglas. Just before he touched her, the sorceress made a brushing motion with her hands. Morenar went reeling backward in a shower of sparks, right into the arms of the guards.
Amberglas studied him absently for a moment, then made a small flicking gesture with her left hand. Eltiron felt a sudden cold sensation run down his back like ice water trickling from the point of a knife. Morenar, who had begun cursing incoherently, broke off in midword and sagged slowly to the stones of the tower top.
The two sentries looked uneasily from their suddenly sleeping captive to Amberglas; their expressions held considerably more respect than they had earlier. Vandaris shook her head. “That’s a relief. How long will he stay that way? And will he make any more sense when he wakes up?”
“Not a great deal, I’m afraid; it’s rather difficult to do anything about the Matholych’s damage, which is one of the things that makes having it around so very awkward. He’ll wake up in the morning or whenever someone calls him.”
“Good. Leave him there, then, and take a look around in case there’s another one we’ve missed,” Vandaris said to the sentries. “And if you find anything odd, don’t touch it.”
The sentries nodded and left. Vandaris looked down at Terrel’s body once more and shuddered. “And we still have to do something about this. Is that thing he’s wearing safe to touch?”
Amberglas leaned forward and touched the amulet lightly with one finger. Her expression became suddenly intent. “How
very
interesting,” she murmured.
“What is it?” Eltiron asked.
“Black Sorcery,” Amberglas said absently. “Or rather, using Black Sorcery in the Tower of Judgment, which of course is precisely what Terrel did when he used this amulet. I believe that’s what summoned the Matholych, though of course it’s difficult to be quite certain without trying it, which really wouldn’t be at all advisable under the circumstances.”
“If using sorcery in this tower summons the Matholych, why didn’t it show up a few minutes ago when you put Morenar to sleep?” Vandaris demanded.
“I didn’t say using sorcery summoned it. I said using Black Sorcery summoned it, which is quite different. I don’t believe it’s at all surprising that something like the Matholych would be attracted by Black Sorcery, and of course anything that eats magic would be quite interested in any of Galerinth’s towers, what with all the magic in them, even if it is the wrong sort of magic to suit the Matholych. At least, I think it is; the Matholych is such an extremely odd creature that it’s very difficult to be entirely sure.”
“Will you take care of that amulet, then, Amberglas?” Eltiron said. “No one else in Leshiya knows much about magic, and I don’t think I want anyone starting with that. Particularly not if it’s likely to bring that—that
thing
back.” For some reason, he found himself reluctant to name the Matholych aloud.
“I think that would be quite wise.” Amberglas bent and retrieved Terrel’s medallion, eyed it thoughtfully for a moment, and put it in the pocket of her gown just as the sentries returned.
As soon as Vandaris established that there was nothing else on the tower top, she insisted that the sentries be left to take care of Morenar and the two corpses while Eltiron and Amberglas accompanied her back to the courtyard. “After all that fire and flash, people are going to start worrying if you don’t show up again soon,” she told Eltiron. By the time they reached the foot of the stairs it was clear that Vandaris was right; even through the heavy wood of the tower door Eltiron could hear the rising din of the crowd outside.
Vandaris put her head on the door, then paused and looked at Eltiron. “You want to make the speech? They’re sure to want one, and it’ll look better from you.”
“I—Oh, all right,” Eltiron said.
“Just tell them everything’s fine and they should go back to bed; we’ll make an announcement in the morning. It won’t be bad.”
Before Eltiron could reply, Vandaris shoved open the door and stepped out of the tower. The crowd quieted somewhat as she held up her hand and called loudly, “His Royal Majesty, King Eltiron Kenerach!”
Eltiron stepped forward to stand in front of the crowd. He had forgotten just how many guards and servants and courtiers lived in and around the palace, not to mention the additional numbers who had come to help with the wedding. He swallowed hard and started talking. It was not as difficult as he had expected, once he had begun. When he finished, Vandaris made some pointed remarks to the guards who were nearest the tower, and they began clearing the courtyard.
“Thank Viran that’s done,” Vandaris said. “Wait here a minute, Eltiron; I want to talk to the Captain at the gates.”
Eltiron nodded, and Vandaris left. She returned a moment later, looking grim.
“Salentor Parel’s gone.”
“You’re sure?”
“Nobody saw him, if that’s what you mean, but I’ll bet my best boots that he got away during the fire show on the Tower of Judgment. All the guards came rushing out here when the lights started, and one of them found the outer guardhouse door unlocked when he finally bothered to go back and check. I sent a message to the guards at the city gates to watch for him, but I don’t think they have much chance of catching him; there are just too many strangers in Leshiya.”
“But Salentor’s the Barinash ambassador! How are we going to explain this?”
“Blame it on Lassond. He can’t contradict us, and the sooner he’s completely discredited, the better.”
“I suppose so,” Eltiron said dubiously, “but I don’t think Crystalorn is going to like this much.”
Eltiron was right; Crystalorn did not like it. Her reasons, however, were not quite what he had expected—Crystalorn was incensed at being “left out” of the night’s excitement. She refused to speak to him for most of the day, which lent color to Vandaris’s “official explanations” but did very little for Eltiron’s state of mind. To top matters off, Darinhal, the castle physician, chose that morning to announce his “discovery” of Marreth’s poisoning. Eltiron had just enough presence of mind to blame that, too, on Terrel’s sorcery.
Amberglas added to Eltiron’s uneasiness by announcing that Terrel’s rooms appeared to have some sort of protective spell around them, which was not at all the sort of thing one normally found in Sevairn, at least not in the past several hundred years, though it might, of course, have been quite normal before that. Eltiron listened long enough to learn that the spell had probably been set through Terrel’s medallion, then immediately ordered the entire wing of the castle evacuated. He had no desire to let the Matholych turn any of his guests or staff into shriveled corpses if it should reappear. Only when the evacuation was under way did he turn back to Amberglas.
She did not appear at all put out by Eltiron’s behavior; she simply informed him that it would take a great deal of time to remove the spell, unless of course he wanted everything inside Terrel’s rooms to crumble into dust, which would almost certainly be dreadfully inconvenient for the castle housekeeper. Eltiron told her that he did not want Terrel’s rooms or anything in them crumbling to dust, and he would appreciate it very much if she would remove the spell.
He left her staring absently at two candles, three gold buttons, a small bag of powdered herbs, and a brown striped kitten that had somehow found its way into the castle, and he found himself wondering just how Amberglas intended to use such an odd assortment of things to break the spell on Terrel’s rooms. Shaking his head slightly, he went looking for Vandaris.
He found her in the courtyard with Tarilane, and she pounced on him at once, demanding his reasons for evacuating an entire wing of an extremely full castle. When Eltiron explained, she shook her head and agreed grudgingly that it was probably a good idea, but it would certainly complicate the preparations for Marreth’s funeral the following day.
“Tomorrow?” Eltiron said. “But—”
“We can’t wait forever, turtle skull, and it will settle people down a bit. Besides, it’s time you moved into the King’s chambers.”
“I don’t think I want to, at least not until we find out how Father was being poisoned.”
Vandaris looked startled. “You’re right. And that reminds me; where’s Crystalorn? Somebody has to search Parel’s rooms, and since he was the Barinash ambassador it’ll be better if she gives her consent. She
is
the Princess of Barinash, after all.”
Eltiron did not feel ready for another confrontation with Crystalorn. Despite his slightly garbled protests, Vandaris dragged him off, with Tarilane trailing behind them. Fortunately, the prospect of searching Salentor Parel’s quarters had a wonderful effect on Crystalorn’s disposition, and she immediately apologized to Eltiron for her earlier temper.
When they reached Salentor’s rooms there was a brief argument concerning whether he, too, had a protective spell on his belongings. Tarilane settled matters by walking inside while Eltiron and Crystalorn were both trying to talk at the same time. When nothing happened to her or to the contents of the rooms, the others joined her.
Vandaris began systematically working her way through Salentor’s belongings. Eltiron, Crystalorn, and Tarilane stood and watched; Vandaris made it quite clear before she began that she was not anxious for their inexpert assistance.
“Parel was in even more of a hurry than I thought,” she commented after a time. “He didn’t take a single gold chain or jewel with him, as far as I can tell.”
“Maybe he wasn’t expecting to get out of here,” Crystalorn suggested.
Vandaris was working at the lock on one of the desk drawers. “I’d still expect him to take time to—aha!” The drawer opened at last; she sorted quickly through the contents and pulled a small wooden box from the back. “This looks interesting!” She flipped open the lid of the box.
“Well, what is it?” Crystalorn said impatiently after a moment.
Vandaris turned and held out the box. It was half full of a pale green dust. “Powdered herrilseed,” Vandaris said in an expressionless voice.
CHAPTER 18
F
or a long moment, Salentor stood staring at Jermain. Then he sagged against his horse in evident relief. “Trevannon! Then Carachel does know what’s been happening.”
Jermain hardly hesitated. “You doubted it?”
“I haven’t been able to reach him directly for nearly four days.” Salentor sat down heavily beside the fire. “But I certainly didn’t expect him to send
you
to Sevairn.”
“The decision was made at the last minute,” Jermain replied carefully. Pretending to be still in Carachel’s service could be an extremely dangerous game. On the other hand, the opportunity to untangle a little more of Carachel’s web of intrigue was too good to pass by. He noticed that Ranlyn was maintaining an impassive silence and thanked Arlayne for the nomad’s quick wits.
“I assume Carachel gave you a message for me,” Salentor said in a tone very close to arrogance.
Jermain’s eyes narrowed. “Certainly not. This matter was of far too much importance for us to wait for a message.”
“But if you have no message—”
“I believe King Carachel is following a few days behind us. Presumably he will give you your
orders
when you see him. You can, of course, wait for him to arrive before you give your news, but I doubt he would be pleased.”
Salentor wilted. “Of course, of course. Ah, how much do you know?”
“You are aware that Carachel has placed me in complete command of his armies?”
“He informed me of it some weeks ago,” Salentor admitted reluctantly.
“Then I believe you may gauge the extent of his trust from that. As we left the camp in rather a hurry, however, it will be best if you make your tale as complete as possible. We know the broad outlines, of course, but there are doubtless many important details you can give us.”