Soon, thought Timor. The time was not yet right, but soon. Sadira’s days were numbered, as well as those of that hulking mul who sat at her right hand. There remained but one more link that would complete the chain of the events that he had set in motion. There still remained one potential threat to the templars’ plan to seize power—the Veiled Alliance.
With Kalak dead, the templars had no magic anymore. He had channeled his power through them, but they were not sorcerers themselves. Except for Timor. For years, he had steadfastly pursued the craft in secret, developing his own power. Nevertheless, his own ability, while not insignificant by any means, was still a far cry from the power that Kalak had wielded. He could not and would never be able to empower his fellow templars. He would have to be a sorcerer-king himself to do that. That meant the Veiled Alliance was still a serious threat. Timor was confident of his defiling abilities, but he was not fool enough to think that he could stand against the Veiled Alliance by himself.
His plan was to induce them to come out into the open. With Kalak dead, Tithian gone, and defiler magic outlawed in the city, there was no longer any excuse for the Veiled Alliance to remain an underground society. They had once been criminals, but Kor—at Timor’s urging—had already proposed an edict that would serve as a blanket pardon for the Veiled Alliance, providing that all of them came forward and took part in helping to rebuild the city. As he had said during the last council meeting, who better than the members of the Veiled Alliance, who followed the Path of the Preserver, to oversee the new farm program that would feed the city and revitalize the desert tablelands? He had already seen to it that his remarks in council were reported to the people of the city, and he had placards posted everywhere, calling upon the Veiled Alliance to come forward and take part in “the greening of Tyr.”
Once all the members of the secret group were identified, then he could make his move. The plan was already in place. In one night, in one fell swoop, the templars and their agents would eliminate the Veiled Alliance while the city was distracted by a massive, widespread riot that would be triggered at Timor’s signal. Fires would be started throughout the city, though not, of course, in the nobles’ quarter or the templars’ quarter, which would be heavily protected. Only isolated, controlled incidents of looting and burning would occur there, merely for the sake of appearances. Timor planned to have his own mansion burned to the ground—after most of his possessions had been discreetly removed—so that he could claim kinship with the populace in that he had been one of the victims. The mobs would be incited to a looting rampage in the merchant district. In one night, the Night of the Scourging, the templars would seize power and declare a state of martial law.
In the interest of public safety, Timor would move into the palace and appoint himself dictator until law and order could once more be restored. The meetings of the council would have to be suspended indefinitely, since many of its members—Sadira, Rikus, and all those loyal to them—would have been killed during the rioting. To punish those who had destroyed the city and brought down the government, rioters and looters would be arrested by the city guard and condemned to slavery, so that they might rebuild what they had helped destroy. And to keep the peace and prevent the recurrence of such massive suffering, Timor would “succumb to the pleas of the populace” and have himself crowned king.
It was a lovely plan, and it covered all contingencies, but before it could be implemented, the threat of the Veiled Alliance had to be removed. That meant they had to be forced out into the open. Timor’s informers had heard rumors that some members of the Veiled Alliance were in favor of disclosure, so they could take their rightful place in Tyrian society and work with the new democratic council to help rebuild Tyr. However, certain highly placed members of the Alliance power structure were resistant. They did not trust the templars, and they did not trust Sadira, who was known to have practiced defiler magic in the past, although she had forsworn it.
Somehow, thought Timor, those preservers had to be identified and neutralized. The question was, how? And now there was this new threat, reported by this so-called “herdsman,” Sorak. If Nibenay had, indeed, sent spies to Tyr to search out the city’s weaknesses prior to an invasion, that could disrupt his plans. He had to pursue this investigation with all vigor, despite the fact that he did not believe for even one moment that this Sorak was a simple herdsman.
He had caught a brief glimpse of the sword Sorak wore beneath his cloak. It had a most unusual configuration, and though Timor could not be certain, for the blade had been covered by its scabbard, it appeared to be a metal one. A simple herdsman did not carry such a weapon. It would be way beyond his means. Moreover, a simple herdsman did not carry himself the way Sorak did. The elfling had the bearing of a fighter. There was definitely more to him than met the eye, and Timor wondered if he was not a plant from Nibenay, sent to spy out any potential weakness in the council.
He had assigned some templars to investigate the claims Sorak had brought to the council, for he could afford to take no chances. At the same time, however, he had sent a team of templars to work in shifts and have Sorak watched. As each watcher was relieved, he reported back to Timor on Sorak’s activities. The most recent report had been especially enlightening.
Sorak had been escorted by Captain Zalcor and a squad of city guard to the warrens, so that he might secure some cheap accommodations while ostensibly waiting for the investigation to confirm the validity of his claims. No sooner had Zalcor left, however, than Sorak had made his way straight to the Crystal Spider, and a short while later, Rikus himself had been seen entering the gaming house, as well. This could not be coincidence. It was a well known fact that the half-elf female who operated the gaming house had once been a gladiator, as had Rikus. Undoubtedly, they knew each other. And now Sorak was there, as well. It was a clear indication of collusion. Only, what was their plan?
Was it possible, Timor wondered, that Rikus and Sadira had somehow managed to get wind of his plans for the Night of the Scourging? Then, just as quickly as the thought occurred to him, he dismissed it. If that had been the case, he would surely have been arrested, even the absence of proof would not have stopped Rikus and Sadira from moving against him. Sadira was not above letting the end justify her means. No, it had to be something else. If he was plotting against them, then could they not at the same time be plotting against him?
Neither Rikus nor Sadira made any secret of their distrust and antipathy toward the templars. However, for the moment, the templars had strong support among the people of the city. If Sadira moved against them now, she would have difficulty justifying her actions, and she would be perceived as using Kalak’s methods. On the other hand, if she could make a strong case against the templars...
“Of course,” said Timor to himself. “She plans to accuse us of collusion with these so-called spies from Nibenay. The elfling is her cat’s-paw. The whole thing was contrived to make the templars look like traitors to the city.”