Mercedes Lackey - Winds Of Fury

:Falconsbane now moves about the court freely,: he reported, as Dawnfire and Tre'valen sorted through the memories they had taken from him :He does little but observes much, and I am able to watch what he thinks.: For all of his myriad faults, Falconsbane was no fool, and his observations were always worth making note of :He has concluded that Ancar is something of a younger, much clumsier, and stupider version of himself. Ancar rules as he did, by fear. Other than those he thinks are valuable, which are mostly great nobles, no one is truly safe from Ancar's mages or his magic.:

Tre'valen turned his burning white eyes on An'desha. Strange, how he had no trouble telling the two Avatars apart :Why is it that Ancar does not molest his great nobles?: the shaman-Avatar asked sharply.

:I can only tell you what Falconsbane thinks,: he said hesitantly :The Adept believes that Ancar himself does not know. He thinks in part that Ancar still fears the power those nobles hold, even though he could eliminate them if he chose - it is a fear from the time when he was still the Prince and had little power but that which he stole. And he believes that in part it is because most of them are still his allies, and he knows that if he betrays them, no one will trust him.: He hesitated again, then added, :And Falconsbane thinks he is a fool; if he fears the power of these nobles, he should eliminate them quietly, in ways that seem accidental. This is what he would do.:

Dawnfire's form writhed and distorted :Somehow I am not surprised,: she commented.

An'desha continued :He sees that this is how he himself ruled, but he feels that Ancar is being extremely stupid about it. While Falconsbane could have conquered every one of his own underlings, singly or together, if they had chosen to revolt, he would have had sabotage in place already to destroy them and all they held dear. Ancar would not be able to muster a sufficient defense if all of his underlings attacked at once. So he thinks that Ancar is being very foolhardy.:

Indeed, Falconsbane's thoughts had been far more contemptuous than that. He felt Ancar should eliminate every risk, and saw his failure to do so as a sign of weakness. An'desha had not been so certain. It seemed to him, after watching Ancar among his courtiers, that the young King felt as long as he kept the threat of retaliation before his underlings, but only made examples of those few he did not need, he would succeed. People were often like rabbits; frighten them, and their minds ceased to work. And An'desha was by no means as certain as Falconsbane that the Adept could have taken all of his underlings if they had chosen to mass against him. Look what one broken Clan, a pair of gryphons, a couple of Outlanders, and his own daughter had managed to do! Twice, it had only been the intervention of the Goddess and her Avatars that had saved him! No, another sign of the damaged state of Falconsbane's mind was this insane overconfidence, this surety that if only Ancar released the coercions, Mornelithe Falconsbane could conquer any obstacle.

Not that he was aware of what the Goddess had done, nor the gaps in his own reasoning, which surely was the cause for his own foolish bravado.

:You have learned much of this Court. What of Ancar's mages?: Tre'valen asked :How do they judge their master? Is there any likelihood they will rise up?:

An'desha considered the question carefully :Hulda is the most powerful,: he said at last :She seems to think that Ancar will never escape her influence, and does not realize that he already has done so. The other mages have a hierarchy of their own - the most powerful is a Blood Mountain sorcerer, Pires Nieth. Falconsbane believes that one has ambitions to rule, himself. He comes of a noble family, possibly is of royal blood by bastardy. Falconsbane thinks that if Hulda and Ancar were both to fall, Pires would attempt to seize the throne for himself. But he is only a Master, and not as learned or powerful even as Ancar, and although he rules the other mages, he lives in fear of both Ancar and Hulda.:

The Avatars communed silently with each other for a moment; the flames danced and hissed about their fire-winged forms :Would he intrigue, do you think?: Dawnfire asked :If you revealed yourself to him, could he be counted upon to help you and aid you in getting rid of Falconsbane?:

An'desha hesitated, then replied, :I do not know. Falconsbane considered him as a possible ally against Ancar. The Adept would not trust him, so how could we?:

Tre'valen nodded :A good point.:

:Besides,: An'desha continued, :He is a blood-path mage. Ancar will have none about him who are not blood-path mages. These men - they are all men, but Hulda - are evil, foul, and the only reason they are not as foul as Falconsbane himself is because they have fewer years, less power, and less imagination. Witting sacrifice is one thing - :

:You have no argument from me, youngling,: Tre'valen said, hastily :You are right; we cannot trust or foster blood-path mages. It would be obscene.:

An'desha wished he had some way to make notes of what he wished to tell the Avatars; he always had the feeling he was going to forget something important!

:There is only one other thing,: he said finally :Falconsbane would never do anything to aid either Hulda or Ancar because he hates them both, so he is fostering the friction between them. I have been trying to make him think this is a good idea. Am I doing rightly?:

This time Tre'valen chuckled :Anything you can do to bring confusion to this nest of kresh'ta will be welcome, youngling. You are doing rightly, indeed.:

The fire popped loudly, and Falconsbane stirred uneasily. He was about to wake.

:Farewell!: Dawnfire said hastily -

- and the Avatars were gone, in the space of an eyeblink.

An'desha withdrew as well, to watch and wait.

Falconsbane stirred as the fire popped again, sending a coal onto the hearth. He opened his eyes, and the coal glared at him from the hearthstone, a baleful fiery eye. He was vaguely aware that there had been something else that had disturbed his sleep but was unable to identify it.

With what had become a habit, he cursed his captor for the clumsy, too-restrictive spells that were making it harder and harder to think or react properly. If that idiot Ancar were only half the mage he thought he was - !

And as if the thought had summoned him, footsteps in the hall heralded Ancar's arrival.

As usual, he burst through the door with no warning and no consideration, as if Falconsbane, like the rooms themselves, was his own personal property. And as usual, he squinted against the perpetual darkness that Falconsbane cloaked himself and his apartment in, a darkness that Falconsbane enhanced with a touch of magery. If the little brat could not learn to announce himself, then Falconsbane would not make it easy for him to fling himself into the suite at will!

"Falconsbane?" Ancar said, peering around the room, and looking, as usual, for a form in one of the hearthside chairs. "Ah - there you are!"

Mornelithe sighed, as Ancar flung himself into the other chair. At least the child didn't have the nerve to order him to stand! "I am very fatigued, Majesty," he said, making no effort to mask the boredom in his voice. "What is it that you require of me this time? I fear that no matter what it is, I have little energy to spare for it."

In fact, he was lying; after disposing of a pair of Ancar's political prisoners, he was very nearly at full strength. Granted, he did seem to be sleeping a great deal, but that could be accounted for by the damages he had taken and the coercions he was under. Those things affected the mind and the body, and he did not wish to spare the energy needed to fight the coercions when he might use that same energy to break Ancar.