It was the guard's loneliness, combined with his genuine contrition, that had brought on his little speech. He would go on talking until he got an answer.
"Oh, I'm all right," the Seer managed. "You mustn't trouble yourself."
"That's kind of you, my lord. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Where can I put my horse?"
The gatekeeper replied with directions to the stable, instructions on whom to rouse and how, and warnings against trusting the worthless grooms.
"Thank you," the Seer replied. He rode on as directed, before the man could begin another speech.
At the stable, he obtained directions to a hall where he might find someone who would know where he was supposed to be; following them, he got lost briefly in the maze of stone corridors. Eventually, though, by asking whomever he chanced to meet, he found his way to the upper gallery where the Council was gathering.
Chalkara noticed him as he reached the top of the stairs and recognized him immediately from his sending. "Greetings, O Seer," she said. "I hadn't known you were here. When did you arrive?"
The Seer held out a flap of his cloak so that she could see that it was still wet and answered, "Just now. What's going on?"
A stranger in a gaudy robe of purple velvet pushed past him and entered the gallery as Chalkara answered, "It's rather complicated to explain, and the meeting is about to start. Why don't you just come in, sit down, and warm up? If you have any questions, ask them as they come up."
Confused, the Seer let Chalkara shove him through the door. There were chairs inside, arranged around a row of three long tables; he was tired, and sank into one gratefully.
The room was lighted by several dozen candles in hanging chandeliers and standing candelabra, and a dozen or so men and women were already seated around the tables. Others were arriving as he took this in. Shandiph was seated at the head of the table he had chosen; none of the others were immediately recognizable. There was a tiny old woman seated at Shandiph's right.
A stout man not quite into middle age seated himself at the Seer's right and remarked without preamble, "You're wet."
"It's raining," he answered.
"Have you just arrived, then?"
"Yes."
"Who are you?"
"I am the Seer of Weideth."
"Ah, then it's you who started all this!"
"I suppose it is. Who are you, then?"
"You don't know me? I am Deriam of Ur-Dormulk, and probably the only wizard here who knows what he's doing." He gestured to take in the entire assembly.
The Seer decided that he didn't care for Deriam of Ur-Dormulk. He was trying to think of a polite way to break off the conversation when Shandiph rose and broke it off for him by calling the meeting to order.
"I see that we now have the necessary numbers," he said when the entire group was seated and silent, "counting Derelind. With this quorum, then, we are constituted an official gathering of the Council of the Most High, empowered to take action on behalf of the entire membership. I think that you will all agree shortly that some action must be taken, and quickly."
He paused dramatically, and someone in his audience snorted derisively. Shandiph ignored it.
"We have just received word, through the offices of the sorceress Zhinza, from Derelind the Hermit, who was earlier sent to the city of Mormoreth, in Orfin to ascertain the status of our comrade Shang and the basilisk which had been placed in his keeping. I now yield to Zhinza, so that she may give Derelind's message herself." He gestured toward the ancient woman and then sank into his chair.
Zhinza rose and proclaimed, "Shang is dead. I was right."
Deriam muttered something into his beard.
"Tell them what Derelind said," Shandiph reminded her.
"Derelind said," she went on, "that he arrived safely and found that Mormoreth is now inhabited by the bandit tribe that formerly roamed the Plain of Derbarok. Being a wizard, he was easily able to convince the bandits to talk to him and tell him how this came about. They claim the city was given to them as a gift by the person who killed Shang, as a blood-price for several tribesmen he killed as well."
"All right, woman, who was it killed him?" Karag demanded.
"Shang was killed by an overman named Garth."
There was a moment of stunned silence as this news sank in.
"What about the basilisk?" someone called.
There was a hush as Zhinza looked about for the speaker and failed to locate her. Finally, addressing the group at large, she said, "Garth took it with him."
The ensuing silence was brief and followed by a babble of many voices. Shandiph let it go on for several minutes before demanding order be restored.
"You mean," Karag of Sland said, when he was reasonably sure he could be heard, "that our greatest weapon has fallen into the hands of the enemy even before we have begun to fight him?"
"That would appear to be the case," Shandiph said. "Before we begin debate, however, I would like to have all the available information laid out. We are fortunate in that Kala of Mara thought to bring with her a good scrying glass. At my request, she has been studying this overman. At this time, I would like to ask her what she has learned."
Kala was a young woman in a simple brown robe; she stood and said, "I haven't learned much, I'm afraid. It's very hard to use the glass on Garth of Ordunin; the sword resists the presence of all other magic, and he is never apart from the sword."
"Have you seen the basilisk?" asked Thetheru.
"No, I haven't. I haven't seen any trace of it anywhere in Skelleth. I don't know what happened to it, but I don't think it's there."
"That's good," Deriam said.
"What I have seen, though, is enough to frighten me badly. I cannot look at Garth directly; the sword will not allow it. When I attempt to force it, it retaliates by filling my crystal with its own hideous light, so that I can see nothing. I haven't the strength of will to fight it. However, I have watched the village of Skelleth and places around the overman. There have of late been several great storms in that area, as well as earthquakes; they have had snow and hail, as well as the rain and sleet that might be expected in this season, and winds sufficient to tear apart thatched roofs. I have glimpsed lightning storms that lighted the night sky as if it were day. I think that Garth is somehow using the sword to create or summon these storms."
"You say that you haven't been able to watch the overman himself?" Karag asked.
"No, I haven't. I have also been unable to see inside the local tavern he frequents, whether he is there or not; I have no idea what this might mean."
"These storms," Karag asked. "Are you sure he's causing them? I've never heard of any such magic."
"I am not certain, but they are like no natural storms I have ever seen."
There was a moment of silence; then Thetheru of Amag said quietly, "Do we have any chance of stopping such power?"
"He has already taken our greatest weapon," Herina the Stargazer observed.
"Well, no," Shandiph said, "he hasn't, really."
There was another moment of silence; then Miloshir the Theurgist asked, "Are you referring to the Ring of P'hul?"
"Among other things, yes."
The Seer was confused. He had never heard of the Ring of P'hul. He looked about for Chalkara, but she was seated well down the table on the opposite side.