David Grace - The Accidental Magician

"Don't be a fool. Derma! He doesn't have the brains to plan anything like that, or the courage. Now his uncle- No, that's not possible. Grantin has the ring, not Greyhorn. The old reprobate would never let the stone go voluntarily. I wonder if it could be love?"

"Love, my lord?"

"She's an enchantress, isn't she? She prepared herself to enchant him when she delivered the ring, only she ran off before she could find out how successful she was. That little witch has laid a spell on him and doesn't even know it. By Satan, he's come here to find her!" Hazar pounded his fist on his desk.

"Derma, take down these commands: First, have twenty of my guards surround the tumbles, quietly. The Grays are not to be bothered, but Grantin and the Fanist are to be kept there at all costs. The men are to stay out of sight until further orders. Next, call my over-deacons, Croman, Jasper, and Wax. They are to commence at once to call up a Firebird, one big enough to carry a full-grown man and strong enough to last through an entire night. They must use all their energies. I want the demon readied for my commands by the second hour.

"Lastly, call my body servants. Have them prepare my bath. Get my masseuse and have fresh garments laid out. Tonight I will thwart my enemies and make ready the attack."

The period of indecision was over, the questions banished from Hazar's mind. His lassitude had fled with his doubts. His energies renewed, Hazar strode to his private chambers while Derma raced off to implement his lord's commands.

Later, bathed, his skin massaged to an invigorated tingle and coated with a thin, coat of scented oil, Hazar joined Mara in the parlor. The ministrations of his servants had soothed Hazar to the point that while reclining on the masseuse's table he had enjoyed his first peaceful sleep in days. Now, somewhat past the first hour A.D., Mara the enchantress rose nervously to greet her lord.

Hazar detected the tense set of her muscles, the slight quiver of the tendons in her neck, the contracted tight black pupils of her eyes. Her attitude could be due to a number of factors: concern over Hazar's tardiness in appearing for their dinner or fear that he might have planned some rebuke or punishment because of her failure on her mission to the Hartfords. Possibly, just possibly, Mara's uneasiness might be due to more personal factors. Was she interested in forming a liaison with him? Could she be planning on using her charms on him in the hope of obtaining an advantage? If that were the case she would be disappointed.

They had barely exchanged greetings when a servant's knock announced that dinner was ready. With Hazar in the lead the two entered the dining room.

A little after the first hour A.D. Castor and Buster carried the steaming dinner to Hazar's quarters. A moment after the guard knocked, an eye appeared at the spyhole. It studied the supplicants, then reluctantly slid back the panel. Derma admitted the two Ajaj and one of the guards while the other soldier positioned himself outside the hallway door. The Grays conveyed the dinner service to Hazar's table and set three places, one for Hazar, one for Mara, and the last for the food taster.

Hazar's clerk, Derma, examined the dishes, then silently pointed to first one item, then another. In response to these directions Buster cut off a fragment of fish, a spoonful of tubers, a splash of wine, a portion of dressing, and conveyed each to the taster's plate.

From behind a curtain appeared a pale, sickly boy. The young man's cheeks were sunken and sallow. Dull brown hair hung thin and limp over his forehead. Selected for his susceptibility to disease, the food taster was kept in a constant state of ill health. A vigorous specimen might fight off the effects of a deleterious substance, whereas someone like this boy would easily be pushed over the line to sicken and die.

"You may eat, Martin," Derma directed.

Somewhat diffidently the young man seated himself before the plate and commenced stuffing his cheeks with food. Lord Hazar did not wish his dinner to grow cold while the taster savored the meal.

The rot root, not having been activated by the appropriate spell, caused the young man no discomfort. Five minutes later the meal was pronounced safe. Hazar feared no slow-acting poison, for his magic and that of his subordinates was powerful enough to counteract any harmful substance provided he was given adequate time.

Martin left the room and Castor removed his plate. Now it was up to the girl. If she successfully performed the spell Hazar would die. In the confusion Castor might even be able to deliver Grantin's message.

Immediately upon his death, Hazar's over-deacons as well as the remaining four lords, together with the inhabitants of the second wall, would all begin plotting to take his place. There would be no lack of candidates to bear the responsibility of his death. Nefra, in fact, already planned to focus the blame on Greyhorn and thus divert attention from his own machinations. Leaving the Ajaj under the watchful eye of the guard, Derma returned to the dining room. He crossed to the parlor door and knocked politely on the panel three times. Upon hearing Hazar's call Derma slid back the door.

"My lord, my lady, dinner is served."

Platters and cups of hot delicacies steamed on a table draped in glossy black cloth. Places had been set with fire-glazed scarlet plates, crudely handsome, twisted clear glass goblets, and utensils of silver and black enamel.

Hazar dismissed the guard and ordered the Ajaj to serve the meal. By long custom Gogol lords preferred the service of the Grays to that of humans. Being viewed as a cowardly and downtrodden race, the Ajaj presented less of a physical danger to their masters than a possibly traitorous or high-spirited human servant.

Secondly, the Ajaj by their very natures were deft and so judged less likely to spill hot soup in their masters' laps. Further, should such an unfortunate event occur a human servant might create an unseemly display, while an Ajaj would meekly endure his fate. Should the crime be severe enough to require the ultimate penalty, the Ajaj's cured pelt would provide a minor recompense for the inconvenience.

Castor noted with satisfaction that Hazar seemed to be in fine appetite, demanding large portions of almost every dish, including the tainted stuffing. Mara commanded smaller portions which she sampled sparingly, except for the stuffing, which she tasted not at all.

During the meal Hazar waxed expansively upon his plans for conquest. The more he spoke, the more Hazar's hunger seemed to be satisfied by the emotions to which he now gave full vent. Ten minutes after filling Hazar's plate Castor noted that the Gogol had eaten only a few bites. The stuffing had been left almost untouched.

"More wine-our cups are dry. More wine!" Castor scuttled forward. "Zaco's clerk brought word today that my stones are almost ready," Hazar told Mara, "an announcement for which I suspect you are in large part responsible. In that you have done well."

"Thank you, my lord. I have done my best."

"Not always, not always. You made a serious error in failing to follow my instructions concerning Greyhorn's courier, but in light of your recent success I am disposed to overlook that incident. It is of little importance now anyway."

"Thank you, my lord. You believe, then, that the wizard Greyhorn will remain loyal to your plan?"

"Nonsense. Trust no one. No, I have solved the problem in a different way entirely. With Greyhorn out of the way his assistant Maurita will take command of his associates. Of her loyalty, for the time being at least, I am assured. In any event there will be no one in that portion of the Hartford lands to oppose me."