Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (41 page)

"And
be
just
another
member
of
the
Council
of
Immortals,
an
ordinary
wizard
surrounded
by
my
enemies?
They all
hate
me,
and
I
despise
them—death
would
be
preferable to
once
again
suffering
the
taunts
and
torments
of
those
w
ho would
claim
to
be
my
peers!"

"Then
how
did
you
ever
become
the
Wizard
Lord?"
the Archer
asked.
"Weren't
you
chosen
by
the
Council?"

"Of
course
I
was!
They
wanted
to
get
rid
of
me.
And
none of
them
wanted
the
job—none
of
them
could
be
bothered
to hunt
do
wn
traitors
or
regulate
the
weather."

Breaker
and
the
Archer
exchanged
glances.
Getting
rid
of someone
by
granting
him
vast
power
and
authority
did
not sound
like
something
anyone
sane
would
attempt.

But
the
Wizard
Lord
was
clearly
not
entirely
sane.

"If
y
ou
turn
back,"
the
rat
said,
"or
scatter,
then
the
rains will
stop.
If
you
continue
toward
the
Galbek
Hills
as
a
group, then
you
will
face
storms
every
step
of
the
way,
and
worse. Floods
and
wind
and
lightning
are
just
the
beginning.
Turn back.
Go
back
to
Winterhome.
Please."
The
rat's
squeaky
little
voice
cracked
badly
as
it
repeated,
"Please!"

"His
grip
on
the
rat
is
weakening,"
the
Seer
remarked.
"He
put
a
lot
into
that
storm,
and
is
weary."

"So
are
you!"
the
rat
squealed,
and
then
it
scampered away.

"He's
gone,"
the
Seer
said.

"Good,"
the
Leader
said.
"In
that
case,
I
can
ask
you—are you
sure
the
Council
hasn't
deceived
you
somehow?"

"How?"
the
Seer
asked
angrily.
"I
realized
the
Wizard Lord
had
committed
murder
when
I
spoke
to
Lore,
and
then he
and
Swo
rd
and
I
went
to
see
the
remains
of
Stoneslope and
heard
the
ghosts—how
could
the
Council
have
intervened?"

"A
hint,
perhaps,
as
the
rat
suggested?"

The
Seer
shook
her
head.
"There
was
no
hint.
I
wish
there had
been.
To
know
that
those
poor
dead
souls
wer
e
trapped in
Stoneslope
for
five
years,
waiting
for
someone
to
find them
and
avenge
them,
and
I
had
never
bothered
to investigate—that
weighs
on
my
own
soul."
She
turned
to
the Leader.
"I
believed
you
when
you
said
he
had
only
killed rogues!
I
never
checke
d!"

"And
I
believed
him,"
Boss
retorted.
"I
shouldn't
have, obviously,
but
I
didn't
know
that."

"But
you
do
now,"
the
Archer
said.
"How
did
that
happen, exactly?
Seer,
might
Sword
have
said
something?"

Boss
glanced
at
Breaker,
then
back
at
the
Seer.
"Do
we
truly
know
him
to
be
the
Chosen
Swordsman?
I
said
we've all
known
each
other
for
years,
but
in
truth,
I
never
met Sword
or
Beauty
until
yesterday."

"Either
they're
who
they
claim
to
be,
or
my
magic
has failed
me,"
the
Seer
said
angrily.

"Or
you
are
indeed
lying,
and
conspiring
with
a
Council spy."

"Boss!"

"Is
it
really
so
impossible?"

"You've
known
me
for
ten
years!
Do
you
really
think
I could
deceive
you
like
that?"

"We've
met
a
few
times,
but
really,
Seer,
how
well
do
I know
you?
I've
chatted
with
you
a
dozen
times,
perhaps."

"That's
nonsense.
If
anyone
has
betrayed
us,
Boss,
it
was
you,
when
you
told
me
that
the
killings
in
Stoneslope
were nothing
to
worry
about.
I
am
doing
what
I
swore
to
do—I gathered
the
others
to
remove
a
Dark
Lord
as
soon
as
I
knew
we
had
one."

"And
do
you
really
think
that's
our
responsibility?"

The
Seer
gaped
at
him.
"We
...
we
are
the
Chosen,
Boss!
We
are
chosen
to
defend
Barokan.
We
are
heroes.
It's
our
sworn
duty
to
remove
any
Wizard
Lord
gone
bad. Ask
Lore
and
Sword
what
we
nee
d
to
do—they
saw Stoneslope,
just
as
I
did.
The
Wizard
Lord
doesn't
even bother
to
deny
slaughtering
them
all.
Even
if
the
Council had
somehow
directed
me
there,
what
does
it
matter?
The Council
has
the
right
to
guide
us,
should
they
choose
to
do so."

"Good
points
indeed!
Good.
And
of
course,
you're right—it
doesn't
matter
whether
or
not
the
Council
is
involved.
If
you
and
Lore
and
Sword
saw
what
you
say
you saw,
and
not
some
clever
illusion,
then
indeed
the
Wizard Lord
has
gone
mad."