"No," Tsantress said. "That's a temptation always best avoided, I'm afraid. No matter how much I want to say yes."
They eyed each other in silence for the space of a long breath or two, ere she spoke again. "Ornrion, I've seen you before. Escorting the Princess Alusair, among other things. What brings you here, clear out of the realm?"
"The orders of Lord Vangerdahast. A task that-if the Knights of Myth Drannor don't seek to turn back into Cormyr-is done." Dauntless regarded her expressionlessly for another long moment ere adding, "So, Lady Wizard, command me."
"IamcalledTsantress,"shetoldhim,gavehimahalf-smile,andadded, "and I believe I will. Come. Let's see what these Knights of yours are up to."
Wizard of War Lorbryn Deltalon stopped. He liked the look of this little clearing-and he was more than close enough to the person he was seeking. From here, he couIaIjust smell the woodsmoke of the man's fire.
Taking the palm-sized, enspelled plaque from his belt pouch and tilting it on a handy rock so he could clearly see Laspeera's face and body from the waist up, he strode two paces north to a fallen tree trunk and set up a polished metal mirror angled in the same manner.
Stepping back to make sure he could see both at once, he murmured the incantation, bent his will, and watched himself slowly take on the likeness of the second most powerful war wizard of Cormyr.
He could mimic Laspeera's speech fairly well and her gestures and gait closely. That would have to be good enough.
Should be good enough to fool one war wizard-avoiding bullyblade, who was now encamped alone and brooding just over the next ridge.
Lorbryn collected mirror and plaque and returned them to their pouches. He took up the two clinking sacks he'd brought, smiled- Laspeera's wryly gentle smile-and vanished from the clearing, in the proverbial blink of a sailor's eye.
The feeling of being constantly watched while in Zhentil Keep was something one just had to get used to. Or go mad.
The wizard Targon got that feeling more acutely from time to time and supposed everyone else did, too, but it had long since ceased to bother him.
He was feeling it now. "Stlarn and blast all," he murmured, not feeling any real irritation. He'd undressed and sought his bed long before he'd really begun to feel tired. As usual. He still didn't feel tired now.
He would be sleeping alone-also as usual-but was sitting up against a small mountain of pillows, happily immersed in his spell-book. As was his wont of evenings, his favorite part of any day.
Targon never tired of the exciting waking dreams he could conjure up in his mind. He saw himself casting spells, felt-from memory-the magics flowing through him as he worked the magic and then unleashed it, imagined how altering this and adjusting that would affect a spell, and… saw himself hurling it at this foe and then at that, humbling them with a wave of his hand and giving them a superior smile as they gasped and groveled-and died.
Something small and metallic pinged off the bedchamber wall to his left. Startled, he looked up. That had sounded like a ring. He'd once dropped one of his on the tiles outside a spell-casting chamber, and it had sounded just like that. He leaned over, craning his neck to see if there was a ring oh the floor righr now-only to feel a weight on the bed right beside him.
He whirled, heart leaping in fright-and was astonished to see a face he knew bumping noses with him, a mouth finding his. It was Aumrune, one of the wizards under his command, srark naked and-kissing him?
Then something raced from Aumrune's tongue into his mind and revealed itself. Old Ghost was bright and terrible and so mighty that Targon's mind could not even begin to resist.
So Aumrune had not been a lover. Had not even been Aumrune anymore. HadAnd then Targon stopped being Targon and so stopped worrying about anything-thinking about anything-at all.
The body that had been Targon calmly closed his spellbook, pushed the limp body of Aumrune off the bed, and walked over it to thrust aside the curtain, go to the bedchamber door beyond, and restore the little warding spell Aumrune should not have been able to break-but Old Ghost could.
Door sealed again, "Targon" kicked the body of Aumrune well clear of the bed and cast a blasting spell at it, destroying the largely burned-out body he had just vacated. As he waited for the room to stop rocking and thundering, he reached for his robe. If anyone bothered to come and investigate the brief tumult, he would inform them he'd just been forced to "execute the traitor Aumrune."
He calmly stepped over the ashes and the few lumps of larger bone and went seeking the ring.
Things fallen and forgotten had a habit of being needed or useful later.
Right now, Old Ghost was ready for a lot of "later." With Horaundoon elsewhere and his own hunger for life-energy sated for now, Old Ghost intended to make this new host body last a long, long time.
Brorn Hallomond flinched and then grabbed for his dagger.
"You'll cut yourself with that, mind," the beautiful woman on the other side of his tiny fire said calmly. "Don't bother. I mean you no harm."
"So you say," Brorn snarled, letting his hand fall away from the dagger without unsheathing it. "Myself, I've not known war wizards to tell the truth overmuch."
"Ah, you know who I am. That'll save us some time." Laspeera sat down crosslegged, just as the bullyblade was sitting-only right across the fire from Brorn. She gave him a good look down her unlaced bodice as she did so and saw his eyes flicker.
"You're Laspeera," Brorn said bluntly. "The realm says you sleep with Vangerdahast and boss half the war wizards for him while his back is turned bossing rhe other half. You're here to taunt and kill me, right?"
"Wrong. I need you alive, unharmed, and able-and so does the Crown. The royal family specifically said they needed you to serve Cormyr. You will be well rewarded for it. Not to do something that you'll be betrayed or blamed for later. But a little spying on the man who is most responsible for the death of Lord Yellander."
"The Crown said that? King Azoun, himself?"
"Himself. Yes, Brorn Hallomond, this I swear. The king and queen both feel your loyalty was ill repaid by the fate of your master. They admire that loyalty and deem you a capable man they want working for the Dragon Throne, not against it. And not iiving as an outlaw, doing violence to every passing citizen of Cormyr who might yield a few coppers to you."
Laspeera plucked up one of the sacks she'd brought with her and tossed it over the fire to land just beside Brorn's right hand. It landed with the heavy clink of coins. "Open it."
Brorn eyed her, and then reached for it without taking his gaze from her. He dragged it into his lap, worked the knot open, and then held it out and dumped a little of its contents out onto the leaf mold beside him, at arm's length. Gold coins, every one. Bright golden lions of the realm.
"The other sack's full of the same," Laspeera said. "All good coins, none of them marked or enspelled. As good as anything in the king's own purse."
"Mine if I do what?" Brorn asked.
"Spy on Vangerdahast and any of his agents-war wizards who serve him more than they serve the king, plus his own thieves and spies-for me. Just watch them, mind. I am not asking you to try to fight or even reveal yourself to the Royal Magician. Just watch, then tell me of any treason you witness or suspect."
"And how will I tell you?"
"Whenever you see me. I'll find you from time to time, and I'll bring more gold with me." "That's all?" Brorn asked.
Laspeera got up, pulled open her bodice to bare her front from waist to shoulders, and purred, "That's all for now."
Brorn swallowed, stared at what had been bared to his gaze for a good long time, then lifted his eyes to meet hers and said roughly, "I'll do it."