From alt.pub.dragons-inn Tue Jun 28 16:08:05 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7436 Path: netcom.com!csus.edu!wupost!howland.reston.ans.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!news.uoregon.edu!gaia.ucs.orst.edu!foleye From: foleye@OES.ORST.EDU (Stilt Man) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [AD] Saiblos' Law Date: 26 Jun 1994 07:12:08 GMT Organization: Oregon Extension Services OSU Lines: 436 Message-ID: <2uj9o8$cgp@gaia.ucs.orst.edu> NNTP-Posting-Host: nostromo.oes.orst.edu [ADMIN: Well, not much I can put here. Legal claptrap: Arcania Dorval is my own property, Athas and the basic world template is that of TSR. No animals were harmed in the testing of this story, and no warranty, either express or implied, is made for the software contents of this story; it is presented AS IS. This story was printed on 100% recycled electrons. Positions for co-writers are still open, but acceptance of an application is not a guarantee of employment. The Stilt Man is an Equal Opportunity Maniac; he will sound crazy whether the reader is black, white, purple, green, straight, crooked, or bent. The opinions expressed in this header are not intended to be analagous to any real life person, group, or situation, and are not those of Oregon Extension Service or Oregon State University; heck, they're not even mine! Now, with all that out of the way, on to the story . . .] Arcania had been dressed for her role as the concubine of Althinas. Or, at least, that was what the sorcerer-king and his templars seemed to think. She was not certain she would use the word "dressed" to describe her state of attire at the moment. They had very thin silver chains fashioned into a brassiere that only barely covered her chest at all. The gilded leather loincloth made up the only other useful part of it; gold bracelets and a necklace of copper and obsidian made up the rest of it. Far from covering her, it almost displayed her even more. Of course, she reflected bitterly, this was the whole point. She had been placed in position kneeling at the base of his throne in his audience chamber as he received those who wished to speak with him for the day. She was being shown off as just so much chattel. She had recovered only slightly in the days she was here. Her personal defense spells were functional once more, but little else. That would keep her alive, but would not aid her overmuch in escape. As a result, the pretense of stupidity continued. She listened much more carefully than her expression of disinterest indicated, and learned much about the basic position the king was in. He was not the only sorcerer-king in this region, nor the most powerful. That honor went to one who had claimed the mantle of Emperor, a man known as Saiblos. This Emperor Saiblos had no templars, as the other sorcerer-kings did. He instead was served by dragons of all stages of transformation. Althinas did not conceal his contempt for this Emperor, who showed little magical power of his own and relied entirely upon these dragonish minions to hold power. He had some means of controlling them, turning them upon one another, as well as any sorcerer-king that might think of defying his control over his Empire, as the region had come to be known. The sorcerer-kings, it was not necessary for Arcania to think hard to deduce, coveted the secrets of Saiblos' control above all else. A high templar, whom Arcania had heard dubbed Terryx, stepped into the audience chamber a few days into the visit of Arcania Dorval to the court of King Althinas. The moment he stepped within the chamber, Althinas motioned to all others. They took the gesture, and left. The last man out close the doors. Terryx frowned at Arcania, who responded with a coy smile. Althinas, following his gaze, smiled as well. "She is harmless," he remarked. "She has not the intelligence to even remember our conversation, and not the ability to relay it outside these walls. What has happened with the slaver from Sable?" "The mindbenders have broken him, though Saiblos' protections on his mind gave quite a fight ere they were broken. Your suspicion was confirmed. Two of the four harem slaves he was offering were sold to him by the Emperor's court," said Terryx. "We found no weapons on any of the others, and they are currently being enjoyed by some of my colleagues below." The look in his eye suggested he wished to be dismissed to share in the debauchery taking place in the dungeons. "What of the slaver himself?" "He was, as you surmised, a spy," said Terryx. "Saiblos is not taking your refusal to pay his levy well." Althinas snorted. "What can I do? He asks for a thousand slaves, a year's supply of water, and a thousand weight of iron from the mines." Althinas shook his head. "I cannot spare the slaves, nor the iron. Even if I could, the water he asks for would mean the death of my city. Our soldiers would not be left with even the supplies they would require to steal it back from one of our neighbors." "Saiblos hopes his visit will convince you otherwise, apparently." The color drained from the face of Althinas. "The Emperor is coming here?" "That was the rumor circulating through Sable when the slaver left there." Althinas asked the most important question. "How many dragons does he bring?" "A guard force of them, I would guess. The tall ones." Althinas uttered something not repeatable. "What do our spies know of the animals he has caged?" "They are the most powerful creatures in the Empire. Saiblos has somehow subdued them and is keeping them asleep in his dungeons. It has been some time since last he released one of them, but the magic those dragons control is powerful enough to rend cities," said Terryx. "Does he bring any of them with him?" asked Althinas. Terryx shook his head. "They are too difficult to control. They have not yet completed the transformation, and the pain that their need torments them with makes them impossible to keep under rein. It is why Saiblos keeps them asleep." Althinas nodded. Arcania sat wide-eyed, looking uncomprehending and terrified. Beneath the glassy surface of her sapphire eyes, however, her mind was working furiously. It was apparent that Althinas had only recently discovered this ultimate weapon the Emperor had kept in store, a secret until recently. She consiered what had passed between the two men. If this Emperor had other dragons as powerful as the sorcerer-kings, it was probable that most or all of them had once been such guards in the service of Saiblos himself, sent to take control over a city when a previous king had been removed. She knew nothing of how old the various kings were, but Althinas had let slip on many occasions that Saiblos was easily the eldest of them all, several thousand years in age, at least. King Alasmus of Throp, leagues to the west of Zaroia, was the oldest next to Saiblos, and he was a millenium into his reign. None could remember when it had been that Saiblos had taken power in the Empire. That made Arcania wonder. As she thought, it came to her senses that this meeting was indeed being watched from the outside. It was not dragon magic powering the watcher, but magic it was. She cast a sultry glance at the sorcerer-king, hiding her curiosity as to whether he noticed. She marvelled that he did not, so crude were the concealment spells hiding this thought-caster's presence, just barely being beyond that which would elude basic true-sight magic. Yet Althinas continued his conversation with the templar, completely oblivious to the presence of this intruder. Arcania stared around the room with a bored expression on her face. She needed not to conceal her own spells, for though her own magic had nothing compared to the stealth of a certain longtime enemy, she still was quite a bit ahead of this fool. That this interloper went undetected said much about the schools of thought of the sorcerer-king: so confident was he in his power, that any stealthful magic beyond the basics would evade his clumsy senses. All power, little art. She took care to avoid alerting this intruder. She felt the strain of her weakened condition, and relaxed her sensory magic, allowed the intruder free roam to observe. She would deal with this one later. \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ The next day, the caravan bearing Emperor Saiblos arrived at Zaroia. The templars were abuzz to prepare a suitable welcome which would not prompt his Dragon Guard to use any of them as fuel for their spells. Arcania, looking from the high spire of Althinas' bedroom in the morning sun, could see the dragons clearly. Saiblos made no attempt to hide them. They had no concern for the heat, it was clear; they were beyond such hurts. They wore full robes of dark blue, covering their entire frames. They stood twice the height of any of the other men in the column. She could not see the Emperor amongst them, but she had little doubt that she would soon. Althinas dressed, ordered her to do the same, and led her from the bedroom down to the audience chamber. She took her position kneeling beside his throne, as templars lined the walls to bear an official welcome, as well as display the sorcerer-king's strength. The doors to the chamber were opened, and bearers carried the veiled litter of the Emperor Saiblos within the chamber. The dragons had only to bend slightly to fit within the tall gates to the room, and carried their black iron staffs to surround the spot where the litter was set upon the ground. Althinas never bothered to set eyes on the litter whilst Saiblos himself was not in view. His gaze was all for the creatures in the long midnight-blue robes. They wore masks to cover their faces, but it was clear they were no giants or even half-giants, though their size was easily a match for such beings. The hands that held the staffs were dark brown and covered with scales. Upon the end of each staff was a small obsidian orb, the foci for the magic the robed beings wore. Each of them could control the dragon-magic with more power than even Althinas himself, and yet they served another still. Arcania could see the contemplation on his face so plainly that he may as well have had "How does the Emperor do it?" writ in bold letters upon his brow. One of the scaled hands went to the veils of the litter, and drew it aside. The robed being fell to hands and knees before the thing, presenting itself as a step for the man who stepped forth. He was a small man, not at all what Arcania would expect from a sorcerer-king. He was shrunken and wrinkled, adorned in a black robe with a gold tabard. His head was hunched, a mustache of pure white falling to his collarbone. He had only hair at the temples, falling to his nape, and thick eyebrows. Every hair on his head was completely white. His eyes were ebon, with golden flecks dancing about. He walked with an obsidian cane carved in the shape of a dragon, leaning heavily upon it for every step as he strode up to the throne of King Althinas. His skin hung from his skull, which was the only part of his skin uncovered by his robe. His eyes fell upon Althinas, amusement plain in the dancing flecks. Althinas grudgingly, with a significant look at the tall beings in the blue robes, rose from his throne and bent knee to Emperor Saiblos. "Greetings, old friend," said the Emperor. His voice broke a moment, and he cleared his throat. "It has been a long time since you were sent to claim reign over this city. I have seen little of you since." One eye narrowed sarcastically. "You have been too well-behaved to warrant my needing to come here in the past." "I beg your pardon, my liege, but you have not required that my people be reduced to raisins for lack of water ere now," said the king. He rose, towering over the shrunken form of the Emperor, who stood fully two heads shorter than his vassal. "Yet, as suzerain over Zaroia, I have the right to claim my due from you," said Saiblos. "Your levy for the previous decade was an ill lot. I expect hearty slaves to be sent, not weaklings who would die in a month anyway. The dragons in my service need better than that to further their morphing processes. The city of Sable needs clean water. The cisterns spent a month cleaning that which you sent to us last decade." He nodded at Althinas. "No, the magnitude of your due this time is to make up for poor quality of what was sent last time." His eyes narrowed. Arcania had respect for the shrewdness she saw there. "You are a good king. You can find ways to ration what you will have left." "And see half my people die for lack of water, lack of the food that will be provided by the slaves you ask for," said Althinas. "I ask for sufficient numbers that you will have fewer mouths to feed," Saiblos reminded him. "What will be left can supply your people. You have a whole river of it." Arcania suppressed a smirk. The world of Athas was so far gone that the muddy little creek that trickled through Zaroia was referred to as a river. "The temple you built as a site for your dragons to morph has been in great use in the past decade. The river dried up under their power," said Althinas. "We have none to spare. Your levy will see this city destroyed." "One of the animals I know you know about will see this city destroyed if you refuse," observed Saiblos. Althinas' eyes widened. Saiblos laughed. "Your spies know what I want them to know. It was well that I permitted you to find out what your fate would be, should you choose to allow your pride to get the better of you," said the Emperor. His eyes went to Arcania. She met them with a bored expression on her face. He looked deeply into her blue eyes with his gold-flecked ebon ones, boring into her head, she could sense. His eyes narrowed. Something seemed to give within them, allow her a glimpse of the mind beneath, even more than the intellect he already displayed. She could not prevent her own eyes from widening. She narrowed them back to their normal width, but not without letting a little of her trueseeing spells get into her eye. She hoped the Emperor would not notice, as Althinas had not. The true sight spells pierced the veil the Emperor wove about himself -- it, too, was paltry compared to anything the Shrouded One might have wielded, but she was quickly coming to understand that very little, by her standards, was needed to fool the guileless sorcerer-kings -- and saw him for what he truly was. Arcania was taken aback. She let her own facade slip a moment, and in that moment, Saiblos too allowed shock to flood his features a brief moment. He glanced inquisitively at Althinas, then back at her, seeing the look of the fool again cover the true Arcania Dorval in her sapphire eyes. But he knew what she was, as she now knew what he was. He also knew, in that moment, that Althinas himself did not know what she was. She was not an avangion, Saiblos clearly knew. What she was, he could not understand. But he had read the mystical secrets, the power she was capable of wielding when she was at full strength, in those eyes in that instant when she had allowed him a look at her true self. The Emperor bowed to her chivalrously, smiling down at her in admiration, apparently of her appearance, though only Arcania knew that he was respecting a potential enemy. "You have a fine choice in harem girls," he said to Althinas, who smiled in appreciation of the compliment. Arcania, too, squirmed in appreciation. "Her name is Arcania," said Althinas. "Arcania," said Saiblos, seeming to like the name. "I will bet she is a true bonfire in certain pursuits," he added, with a lewd sneer for her. Arcania nodded emphatically, with a giggle. "Apparently not too bright, though," Saiblos finished. This brought a pout. "Have you anything else for me?" asked Althinas. "Nay," said the Emperor. "I will not bother you longer. I have the water I will need for the return voyage to Sable. I bid thee clear thought as you make your decision." He sneered and nodded to Althinas, then stepped back up to the litter and drew the veil. The bearers returned to the litter, lifted it up off its short legs, and bore it from the room. The guards lifted their staves and thudded them on the floor for emphasis to clear the path as they followed after. Althinas fairly collapsed into his throne. He gestured to the templars, ordering them from the room. "What am I to do?" he spoke, as if to no one. Arcania had come to see that he regarded her as a nobody. "My city will die slowly if I comply with his demands, and will die quickly if I refuse." He sighed. "Better to die fighting than on our knees." He drew her up off her feet, motioning toward the stairs. "I need something to comfort my not-so-young body after this letdown. Lead the way, my dear . . ." \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ The rest of the day had gone without incident. Arcania sat up in bed, having put Althinas to sleep with her ministrations already. She looked into the moons of Athas, pondering. She felt stronger; there were ways for drawing strength from men in the acts of carnal knowledge and seduction, and Arcania had stretched those ways to their limits this evening. Althinas would wake up tired in the morning, marvelling at the great ability his concubine had in bed, no doubt. She had been using his strength to power her recovery the last few nights, but had been acting more slowly. She could not afford to risk his discovery of what she was doing to him. But now, with the Emperor's threat impending, she had little room to waste time trying to avoid his noticing. His magic drew the life from others; she found this abhorrent and disgusting. She was by no means innocent of destructiveness or drawing others' souls and strength in her own time, but she, at least, had managed to avoid destroying the world, reducing it to a wasteland, in the process. The creatures of nature had not lost their nobility, their beauty, in order to survive in Thyaris as they had on Athas. She shook her head in disgust at what Althinas and his kin had done to this world. The world would be well rid of this misogynistic defiler once Saiblos was done with him. No. Arcania closed her eyes, thinking of the man beside her, what he had done, how her dignity had been maimed under his auspices. She would not leave him to Saiblos. That way would also mean the deaths of everyone in the city, the destruction of all life in Zaroia. No. Althinas was hers to kill. At that moment, she again became aware of the presence of another observing her. She pulled the sheets over herself for decency. She sensed the presence withdrawing as she evinced her knowledge of it. {No, you will not escape me that easily.} She was stronger now; she could afford to snare this fool and learn why he spied upon the sorcerer-king. {Have you any realization of how obvious you are?} The other wizard pulled and struggled against her, trying to free its cast thoughts from her mystical grip, finding it futile. Finally, she heard a sigh, male. {My magic is as powerful in its stealth as any on Athas. I am never detected, not even by the sorcerer-king.} {You have been dealing with amateurs. I am not among their number. What is your name?} {That you cannot have.} More tugging against her coils. She tightened her grip, in a manner that the other would find most discomfiting. She felt the gasp of agony. {Think you I cannot force the truth from you if I wish? Your name, please. You would not wish me to look for it myself within your head.} {I am Jiloro of the Veil. I am part of the underground of preserver sorcerers. I am proud to call myself an agent of the Woodskeeper.} {Who is this Woodskeeper?} {You do not know?} The voice sounded incredulous. {He is like me, an advanced being in the magic of preservers, only much more powerful than I.} {An avangion. There may be hope for you people yet.} Arcania smiled. {You speak as though you are somehow not among as.} {That is correct, and none of your affair. What do you know of events surrounding the visit of the Emperor to Zaroia?} {Enough to know that we of the underground should not be here when the animal-dragon arrives.} Arcania nodded approval. {If I aid you, what can you do for me?} {I can see from this cage you have me in that the plants in the King's bedchamber do not wither while you hold me. You are not a defiler.} {I would not touch their filthy ways with a lightning bolt.} Her lip curled in contempt. {Then perhaps we can reach an accord.} The novice avangion she held in her grip seemed to relax. {Indeed.} She heard shifting beside her. {The king awakens. It is not time for me to reveal myself to him. You must go.} {I look forward to meeting you in person.} {If so, make sure you watch when I wreak my vengeance upon Althinas.} {Am I supposed to be affrighted?} The avangion seemed to be mocking her. {No. Merely more respectful than he has been.} She released him and cast his mind into the nearest neighboring forest she could find. There were few of them, and much distance between them and any of the defiling magic of the cities. He would need no small effort to find his body again. Let him watch his tone next time, she mused. The king shifted some more, then was still in sleep again. Arcania shrugged, and lay back to slumber herself. +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+ + The exile of Arcania Dorval + +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+ + . . . scribed by the Stilt Man, + + foleye@xanth.cs.orst.edu + +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+