“The baron will see you now,” he said.
Bannier noted the man’s abrupt manner and made a point of remembering his face, in the event the captain crossed his path again. “Very well.” The officer led him into the command tent, ducking beneath the outer flap.
“Well, well,” Tuorel said. “You’ve some nerve to show up on my doorstep, Bannier.”
Four of the elite Iron Guards stood by the door, their swords bared; the nearest were already within striking range, but they made no move to attack. Across the tent from him stood Tuorel, dressed in his striking wolf-emblazoned armor.
Bannier noticed a pair of small holes in the tent’s far wall.
With his preternatural senses, he detected a pair of sharpshooters training their crossbows on him from their concealed positions. More importantly, a slight woman in the robes of a Khinasi mage stood beside Tuorel. Although the spell would be invisible to the untrained eyes of normal men, Bannier noticed a subtle shield of some kind surrounding her.
For the moment, Bannier ignored Tuorel’s assassins and his hired mage. “My lord baron,” he said, bowing. “While our relations have not been cordial lately, I believe we still share a common cause.”
Tuorel regarded him suspiciously. “And what do you want me to do for you this time?”
“Nothing you wouldn’t do for yourself, baron. You march on Caer Winoene, the seat of Gaelin’s government in exile. I wish to see the renegade Mhor’s power destroyed as well, and I offer you my services toward this end.”
Tuorel frowned. “As you can see, Bannier, I have already retained the services of another wizard. I didn’t believe we shared any more common purposes.”
“I can assure your victory, my lord.”
“Just as you assured my conquest of Mhoried?”
Bannier shrugged. “I delivered Shieldhaven into your hands, as I promised. You haven’t even bothered to attempt the test of the Oak. I can’t understand why you’re surprised that the Mhoriens choose to dispute your righteous rule.”
“You know the Red Oak would never have acknowledged me, not with the blooded heir to the Mhor alive and at liberty.
I would have made a fool of myself if I’d tried! Now Gaelin has rallied the northlands against me. I would hardly say that you fulfilled your part of our pact.”
“Nor did you fulfill your part of the bargain, by allowing Gaelin to escape when we had him in our clutches!”
Tuorel’s eyes narrowed. “It would seem neither of us wishes to deal with the other any longer. Bannier, your presence here is no longer required.” He dropped one hand, signaling.
Instantly, two crossbows thrummed, while the Iron Guards nearest Bannier turned and raised their swords to cut him down. The Khinasi standing beside Tuorel raised her hands and started chanting. Bannier merely smiled.
The bolts struck Bannier clean in the chest but passed completely through his body without resistance, leaving the wizard untouched. The Iron Guards who struck at him were not so lucky. Their blades tore great rents in Bannier’s clothing but passed through his flesh as if he were insubstantial. Even as the swords slashed through his body, a double flash of virulent green energy blinded the Ghoerans standing nearby, and the guards screamed as their swords were blasted from their hands, the energy leaping up their sword-arms and shattering their very bones with a stink of burning flesh. Both men were thrown backward into the guards behind them, spinning like nerveless dolls.
Ignoring these distractions, Bannier concentrated on the mage. Speaking one quick word, his body shimmered and disappeared even as a bright blue flash of lightning snapped forward from her fingertips. It snaked through the doorway to strike some unfortunate guards standing just outside. Bannier appeared again an arm’s reach from the sorceress, and he lunged forward, invoking one of the most damaging spells he knew. Even as she tried to twist away, a seething sphere of burning acid struck her right shoulder, instantly eating into her body. Bannier stepped back and let her go; shrieking in pain, she stumbled out of the tent. Her cries diminished within a matter of seconds.
Bannier turned to confront Tuorel, but found a gleaming sword point at his throat. The baron was standing before him, his weapon at the ready. “Most impressive, Bannier. You are truly a master of your art. But this sword is Calruile, one of the heirlooms of my family, and enchanted to boot. I suspect its bite might sting more than the swords of my guards.”
Bannier held still, and raised his hands in a placating fashion.
“In this, you are correct, my lord baron. However, before you do something rash, I must in turn inform you that the spell that felled your guards is still in effect. If you touch me with that blade, you will be slain as well.”
Tuorel smiled. “An impasse, then.”
“Indeed. Baron, I am willing to overlook this incident, and our previous difficulties, in order to see Gaelin Mhoried destroyed.”
“What kind of deal do you want this time?”
“None at all. It suits my purposes to bring Gaelin down, and I realize that it is a matter of some importance to you as well.”
Tuorel drew his sword back a handsbreadth. “Why on earth should I trust you?”
Bannier snapped, “You’ve tried to kill me, Tuorel, and you wrecked my home as well. However, I will offer you a token of my good faith. Tomorrow afternoon, you will meet Gaelin’s army in Marnevale, where he will try to make you pay for your passage into the highlands.”
Tuorel nodded. “My scouts have reported this, Bannier.”
“In order to secure your cooperation, I offer to destroy the Mhorien army for you. You will not lose a single man.”
Tuorel lowered his sword. “It will take me three days to fight through the pass, with heavy losses. Can you really do this?”
“I can. As a gesture of my good faith. All I ask is that you continue to press the attack – an action that you are even now undertaking.”
Tuorel shook his head. “I don’t see how this would profit you at all, Bannier. Are you so vindictive that you want to see Gaelin dead just for the sake of spite?”
Bannier lowered his hands and smoothed his robes. “You might say that,” he replied. “But, consider this: When Gaelin dies, Ilwyn becomes the last of Mhoried’s blood, which means that the bloodline can be extinguished – or usurped – by killing one girl who is already in my power. I would have preferred to take them both alive, but I am beginning to doubt we will get the opportunity.”
“Ah. Now I see.” Tuorel grinned, appreciating the wiza rd’s ruthlessness. “I thought you would be subtler than that, Bannier. ”
Bannier smiled in return; the lie he’d just told the baron was the right thing to say. Tuorel needed some motive for Bannier’ s actions, but now that he thought he was dealing with simple lust for power and gain, he would treat Bannier accordingly.
“Gaelin’s death helps both of us, my lord baron,” he continued.
“And I see that you are in need of a mage again.”
Tuorel glanced out the opening of the tent. The half-eaten shape of a nightmare huddled on the ground before the tent.
“All right, Bannier, we have a deal. If you destroy Mhoried’s army tomorrow, as you say, then I will agree to cooperate with you in finishing Gaelin Mhoried once and for all. If you fail to deliver on your promise…” Tuorel left the threat unspoken.
“I understand, my lord baron,” Bannier replied. “Now, with your permission, there is much I must do to prepare my spell. May I withdraw?”
Tuorel watched him a moment longer. “Of course. I shall be interested to see what you have in mind.”
Gaelin finally enjoyed a restful sleep. He woke starving, and ate a huge breakfast of sausages, eggs, and biscuits in his own chamber. He knew he had been neglecting his duties lately – brooding sullenly for hours was no excuse for not paying attention to the important matters he was confronted with each day. He resolved to do better in the time he had left.