"What have you done, you witch!" he screamed. A violent paroxysm of pain bent him double. He groaned and fell to his knees by Mirielle's boots.
The other guests bolted to their feet. The squires and servants looked helplessly shocked. The two men from Jelek hastily put their sweetmeats back on the tray and pushed away from the table. The general's officers looked on with interest.
It was their knowing expressions that told Sara this had been planned. Disgust roiled in her stomach, and she moved around the chair to try to help the mayor. Mirielle watched impassively.
The man gasped for air. "Kill her!" he wheezed to his servant, and he collapsed to his side.
Before the general realized what he was doing, the mayor's servant slipped his hand into his sleeve and pulled out a slender throwing knife. As fast as an assassin, he hurled the knife at Mirielle's chest.
Sara witnessed his hand move from his sleeve, and she saw the flash of steel in the firelight. Without thinking of the consequences, she lunged forward and shoved the wooden tray in front of the general like a shield. The knife struck deep and quivered in the wood.
One of the lord knights moved in quickly behind the servant to prevent his escape, wrapped his hands around the man's head, and, giving a single jerk, broke his neck.
"Lord Knight Gamarin, I told you to search these people for weapons," Mirielle said irritably.
On the floor, the mayor's body jerked twice and shuddered to a deathly stillness.
The men from Jelek stared at the body, horrified, then one of them pointed a shaking finger at Sara. "You… you poisoned him!" he cried.
All eyes turned to Sara, standing beside the body, her eyes downcast. She turned the tray over in her hands and studied the knife stuck in the bottom.
"She did not kill him," Mirielle said, refilling her glass. "I did. That is the only treaty I will make with his sort. Remove the bodies," she snapped to her steward. To her officers, she said, "It is time. Follow your orders."
The knights saluted her and hurried out together, their squires trailing along in confusion. The remaining civilians shuffled nervously and waited for the general's next move. The room grew very still.
Mirielle enjoyed her moment. She sat back in her chair and sipped her wine while the remaining guests fidgeted and the servants scurried in to carry away both bodies.
"Aconite," Sara said into the silence.
The general started. "How do you know?"
Sara turned slowly on her toes and met Mirielle's speculative gaze. "I have studied herbs. Aconite is a deadly poison. It's also called wolfsbane. A tiny dose of its infusion will kill a large man in a matter of moments." She remembered the mayor's horrified face and the look of death in his eyes, and she shuddered. The Code of the dark knighthood condoned murder if the act was done to advance the Vision. But if Takhisis was gone and her Vision with her, whose vision was Mirielle trying to advance? "Why? Why did you kill him?" she wanted to know.
The two women faced each other as if there were no one else in the room. The men and the servants were forgotten; the table sat empty except for the wineglasses and the trays of sweetmeats.
"I had no more use for him," Mirielle replied. "He was an obstruction that needed to be removed, and I chose the quickest, easiest method. Now that he is gone, nothing else stands in my way for a swift takeover of the Nerakan government. By morning, the city will be ours, and our troops will bring the populace to heel. It should have been ours in the first place. It was stupid of the council to just grant us the lands around Neraka."
She reached over and pulled the tray out of Sara's hands. "Thank you for this," she said, holding up the tray so the knife stood upright. "Your reflexes are still quite good." She smiled at Sara. This time the good humor spread across her face and lit her eyes with a genuine delight that made her look younger and as impish as a child.
"If you're quite finished with us, may we go?" the elder Targonne interjected.
The general tossed the tray to the table and rose to her feet. "Of course. How inconsiderate of me. Gentlemen, I bid you good night. Please remember our earlier conversations. The Knights of Takhisis are here to stay, and we seek to increase our advantage in every way possible. If there is something we can do for each other's benefit, do not hesitate to call on me."
Targonne bowed slightly and, gesturing to his son, he said, "Morham will bring the supply contracts to you in the morning. I think you will find them very advantageous."
The Jelek men bowed, too, and left wordlessly on the heels of the merchant lord. The Khur barbarian hid a smile behind his dark beard. He left a small bag of coins on the table and walked out, his silent bodyguard behind him.
Mirielle picked up the coin bag. Juggling it in her hand, she picked up the bowl of poisoned sweetmeats and tossed it into the fire. "By leaving this bag, the Klurs have agreed to bargain for wool and meat," she said, pleased with the success of her night. "All this with only one small bowl of candies."
Sara watched the firelight dance on Mirielle's sculpted features. And she wondered, for what would be the first of many times, what would have happened if she had not stopped that knife.
13
The morning blew in cold and raw on the heels of a bitter wind. The city of Neraka woke to find its lord mayor dead, his council under arrest, his mercenaries dead or switching sides as fast as they could surrender, and the Knights of Takhisis in firm control of all the city gates and watchtowers. The dragons who flew reconnaissance flights in the skies now flew over the city, reminding everyone who held the reins of power. A few ogres and draconians put up a token resistance in the streets with the knights, and a party of merchants sent a delegation to General Abrena to register a formal complaint, but overall the citizens of the city shrugged philosophically and went about their business.
General Abrena spent the day consolidating her position in the city. She fortified the area around her headquarters, doubled the guards at the gates, and moved a number of talons out of the tents to occupy the city. She met with the merchant delegation and the elders of Neraka to assure them that the change of leadership would not seriously affect the populace. Then she imposed a curfew and hinted that a "protection" tax to help pay for the upkeep of the military forces might be necessary.
The merchants looked resigned, and one suggested that she look in the lord mayor's personal treasury. The old mercenary had been collecting that tax and more for years.
Curious, Mirielle led two talons of guards to the hideous structure the lord mayor had used for his palace. They drove out the mayor's retinue and searched the building from roof to dungeon. Sure enough, in a dank storeroom buried deep beneath the walls, they found boxes of steel coins, bars of iron and bronze, chains of gold, and enough jewels to keep a family of dwarves happy for years. As soon as they had stripped the place of its valuables, General Abrena ordered the slaves to demolish it. The palace, with its hideous colors and ridiculous design, looked like something put together by a committee of gnomes. It was too big an eyesore even for the knighthood.
Mirielle was pleased with her progress. In one swift stroke, she had removed her one rival, gained control of the city, and increased the order's struggling treasury. Now she had the headquarters and the foundation to begin the next stage of rebuilding the dark knighthood. The process would be a long one if it was to be done well, but Mirielle Abrena had learned patience and the art of doing things right the first time from her years as a senior knight before the war. Even then she had dreamed of leading the knights to victory.
If General Abrena was having a good day, "Knight Warrior Conby" was not. Exhausted after the dinner and standing guard at the Red Quarter's perimeter, Sara had gone to her tent and collapsed on her bedroll.