Yaphyll grinned. "Must we? I'd hoped that was one matter we understood already. In the wake of Druxus's murder, Nevron loaned the other members of his faction demons bodyguards. One of the spirits slipped its tether and surprised Thrul when he was amusing himself with a female slave and ill prepared to defend himself. It tore them apart and afterward some of Thrul's followers killed it in its turn."
"I suspect," Dmitra said, "the truth is more complex. From what my spies have managed to determine, it's not clear that the thrall's body has been recovered. We do know the creature that ran amok liked to kill by biting its victims in the throat and that some people remember it as originally being huge and male, whereas the entity the conjurors ultimately slew possessed the same four arms, scales, and what have you, but was no taller than a human being and female.
"I believe the original creature was a blood drinker and transformed the slave into an entity like itself so she would kill Aznar Thrul. In other words, it wasn't a demon in the truest sense, but rather some exotic form of vampire."
"Which suggests," Lallara said, "that it wasn't really a conjuror who summoned and bound it but rather a necromancer like Szass Tam, who then slipped it into Thrul's palace amid a troupe of Nevron's demons."
Samas nodded, his multiple chins wobbling. "Figuring that the murder of a second zulkir would spread that much more terror throughout the land. I understand, but we should also recognize that at least this death benefits us as well. Thrul was our enemy. With him gone, our faction controls the council, at least until the conjurors elect a new leader, and if he turns out to be sympathetic to our views, we can run things as we like for the foreseeable future."
"That assumes," Dmitra answered, "your faction remains intact, that you still view yourselves and Szass Tam as sharing common interests."
"Why wouldn't we?" Samas asked.
"I see it," Yaphyll said, and though she still wasn't certain Dmitra was correct, the mere possibility made her feel queasy. "Supposedly, Thay is in jeopardy. The Rashemi threaten from the north and undead marauders from the east. An unknown foe strikes down the zulkirs one by one. Fortunately, a hero has demonstrated the will and capacity to save the realm-if given a free hand to do so. You think that's the object of convening the council, don't you, Tharchion? Szass Tam is going to ask us to elect him supreme ruler of Thay."
Lallara grinned a sardonic grin. "Only temporarily, no doubt. Just until the crisis is resolved."
"He can't believe we would ever consent to such a thing!" Samas cried. "It's one thing to acknowledge him as the eldest and most accomplished of the zulkirs and the leader of our faction- first among equals, so to speak-but none of us fought all the way up to the loftiest rank in the land just to enthrone an overlord to command us as his vassals."
"I understand that," Dmitra said, "but I still felt it incumbent on me to warn you. Imagine if I hadn't. You've pledged your loyalty to Szass Tam, and knowing just how shrewd and powerful he is, you have no inclination to cross him. You take your seat in council worried over threats to the realm and your own personal safety as well. It appears the lich is the only person who's enjoyed any success confronting any of the various problems. Certainly that's what the populace at large believes.
"Now then: In the situation I've described, when Szass Tam requests his regency, or however he intends to put it, who among you, without knowing how the others feel, is bold enough to be the first to denounce the proposal?"
Yaphyll wished she could claim that she would find the courage, but she wondered if it was so. No zulkir could show weakness by confessing to fear of anyone or anything. But the truth was, even though he'd supported her in all her endeavors, she was afraid of Szass Tam, and she could tell that Samas and even Lallara, with her bitter, thorny nature, felt the same.
Lallara laughed. "Hear the silence! It appears, Tharchion, that none of us would dare."
"That means four votes in favor," Dmitra said, "and with Evocation's seat empty, at best three against. The measure passes. To forestall that, I hope the three of you will pledge here and now to stand firm against it."
"No," said Samas Kul, "or at least, not yet."
Dmitra inclined her head. "May I ask what more you require to persuade you, Master?"
"Yes, illusionist," the fat man replied, "you may. You've whistled up a host of phantoms to affright us, but I'd be more inclined to cower if I understood why you of all people would want to warn us. You're one of Szass Tam's favorites. If he crowned himself king, you'd benefit."
"You forget," Yaphyll said, "Tharchion Flass has sworn to serve all of us zulkirs, and I'm sure that, like all of us, she's concerned first and foremost with the welfare of the realm."
Lallara shot her a poisonous glance. "Your little drolleries are growing even more tiresome than usual." She shifted her glare to Dmitra. "The hog raises a valid point. If this is all a charade, it's hard to imagine what you could possibly be trying to achieve, but stilclass="underline" Why should we trust you?"
"Because Szass Tam no longer does," Dmitra replied. "In times past, he would have confided in me. Involved me in any scheme to which I might prove useful, even the assassination of a fellow zulkir, yet now, suddenly, he dissembles with me and only asks me to advance his schemes in a limited fashion, even though I've given him no reason to question my loyalty.
"Why? I can't imagine, any more than I know what he gained by murdering Druxus Rhym, or why, after contenting himself with being senior zulkir for so long, he's decided to strike for even greater authority. Not understanding alarms me.
"What I do know is that life in Thay as it's currently governed has been good to me. I have a nasty suspicion that, for whatever reason, I wouldn't find existence so congenial under Szass Tam's new regime."
She smiled. "So I'm trying to keep things as they are, and hope to manage to do so with minimal risk to myself. I've taken pains to keep Szass Tam from learning of this meeting, and if none of you tattles that I sought to rally you against him, I shouldn't suffer for it."
Lallara grunted. "What you say makes a certain amount of sense, Tharchion, which isn't to imply I embrace it as complete and utter truth. And perhaps your motives don't matter so very much, because Samas was right about one thing: He, Yaphyll, and I are all averse to installing the lich in a new office higher than our own. It's clear from our manner even if we haven't declared it outright, so I say, yes, let's seal a secret pact of resistance, just in case."
Yaphyll nodded. "Agreed. No kingship or regency for anyone, ever, under any circumstances." Unless, of course, she could somehow, someday win such a prize for herself.
Samas Kul heaved a sigh. "I agree, too, I suppose."
It was as eloquent an oration as Szass Tam had ever given. He enumerated the dire menaces facing Thay in general and the zulkirs personally. He reminded the other mage lords of his accomplishments, recent and otherwise, and pointed out how divided leadership could prevent even the greatest realm in Faerыn from achieving its goals or coping in an emergency. The failed military endeavors of recent decades were obvious examples.
He also promised he'd step down as soon as he eliminated the threats to the common weal. He omitted, however, any mention of the hideous punishments he'd meted out to folk who had, at one time or another, balked or angered the oldest and most powerful wizard in the land. He was certain the other zulkirs recalled those without his needing to allude to them.
Yet when he saw the glances that passed among Yaphyll, Lallara, and Samas Kul, he realized that somehow the other members of his faction had already known what he was going to propose. Known, palavered in secret, and resolved to oppose him as staunchly as the remaining zulkirs, and that was staunchly indeed. The other three were his long-time enemies: Nevron with his perpetual sneer and the brimstone stink of his demon servitors clinging to his person; Lauzoril, deceptively bland and clerkish; and Mythrellan, who affected to despise everyone else on the council, who changed her face as often as other great noblewomen changed their gowns, frequently to something with an element of the bizarre but always exquisite nonetheless. Today her eyes were gold and her skin sky blue. A haze of unformed illusion ready for the shaping made her image soft and blurry.