I thought.
Vidanric said, "Administrative details."
Flauvic made an ironic half bow from his seat on the throne. "For which I thank you. Tiresome details." The metallic golden eyes swept indifferently over me, then he frowned slightly and looked again. "Meliara. This is a surprise; I took you for a servant." His voice was meant to sting.
So I grinned. "You have an objection to honest work?"
As a zinger it wasn't much, but Flauvic gave me an appreciate smile. "This," he waved lazily at Vidanric, "I hadn't foreseen. And it's a shame. I'd intended to waken you for some diversion, when things were settled."
That silenced me.
"You included sorcery among your studies at Court?" Vidanric asked.
Personal insults vanished as I realized what it was my inner senses had been fighting against: magic, lots of it, and not a good kind.
"I did," Flauvic said, stretching out his hands. "So much easier and neater than troubling oneself with tiresome allies and brainless lackeys."
I sighed, realizing how again he'd played his game by his own rules. He'd showed me that magic, and though he had called it illusion, I ought to have let someone else know. "I take it you wish to forgo the exchange of niceties and proceed right to business," he went on. "Very well." He rose in a fluid, elegant movement and stepped down from the dais to the nearest white statue. "Athanarel serves as a convenient boundary. I have everyone in it under this stone-spell. I spent my time at Meliara's charming entertainment the other night ascertaining where everyone of remotest value to you would be the next day, and I have my people with each right now. You have a choice before you. Cooperate with me--obviating the need for tedious efforts that can be better employed elsewhere--or else, one by one, they will suffer the same fate as our erstwhile friend here."
He nodded at the statue, who, I realized then, was the Duke of Grumareth. The man had been frozen in the act of groveling or begging, if his stance was any indication. An unappealing sight, yet so very characteristic. Flauvic suddenly produced a knife from his clothing and jabbed the point against the statue, which tipped and shattered into rubble on the marble floor.
"That will be a nasty mess when I do lift the spell," Flauvic went on, still smiling gently. "But then we won't have to see it, will we?" He stopped, and let the horrifying implications sink in.
The Prince and Princess. Savona. Tamara. Bran and Nee. Elenet. Good people and bad, silly and smart, they would all be helpless victims.
Vidanric said, "Administrative details."
Flauvic made an ironic half bow from his seat on the throne. "For which I thank you. Tiresome details." The metallic golden eyes swept indifferently over me, then he frowned slightly and looked again. "Meliara. This is a surprise; I took you for a servant." His voice was meant to sting.
So I grinned. "You have an objection to honest work?"
As a zinger it wasn't much, but Flauvic gave me an appreciate smile. "This," he waved lazily at Vidanric, "I hadn't foreseen. And it's a shame. I'd intended to waken you for some diversion, when things were settled."
That silenced me.
"You included sorcery among your studies at Court?" Vidanric asked.
Personal insults vanished as I realized what it was my inner senses had been fighting against: magic, lots of it, and not a good kind.
"I did," Flauvic said, stretching out his hands. "So much easier and neater than troubling oneself with tiresome allies and brainless lackeys."
I sighed, realizing how again he'd played his game by his own rules. He'd showed me that magic, and though he had called it illusion, I ought to have let someone else know. "I take it you wish to forgo the exchange of niceties and proceed right to business," he went on. "Very well." He rose in a fluid, elegant movement and stepped down from the dais to the nearest white statue. "Athanarel serves as a convenient boundary. I have everyone in it under this stone-spell. I spent my time at Meliara's charming entertainment the other night ascertaining where everyone of remotest value to you would be the next day, and I have my people with each right now. You have a choice before you. Cooperate with me--obviating the need for tedious efforts that can be better employed elsewhere--or else, one by one, they will suffer the same fate as our erstwhile friend here."
He nodded at the statue, who, I realized then, was the Duke of Grumareth. The man had been frozen in the act of groveling or begging, if his stance was any indication. An unappealing sight, yet so very characteristic. Flauvic suddenly produced a knife from his clothing and jabbed the point against the statue, which tipped and shattered into rubble on the marble floor.
"That will be a nasty mess when I do lift the spell," Flauvic went on, still smiling gently. "But then we won't have to see it, will we?" He stopped, and let the horrifying implications sink in.
The Prince and Princess. Savona. Tamara. Bran and Nee. Elenet. Good people and bad, silly and smart, they would all be helpless victims.
( Sherwood Smith )
[ Court Duel ]
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