Kaell played strange new songs that set Prosty's nerves on edge. The tunes were not familiar and the notes dipped and rose awkwardly and were mostly shrill. Kaell smiled at Prosty's distress and played louder and Prosty left the room.
Out in the corridor he lit his pipe. At least he had the decency to enjoy his vice where it would not bother anyone. He let his mind drift back to the time before he met Kaell, before they became part of High King Michak's court. Prosty had been handsome then, in a gangling sort of way. Perhaps his hands and feet had been too large, his face too angular but his blue eyes were striking, and it had been said that the sky could not have been any truer blue.
But that had been before the magic, before the sorcery, before the rumor of Kerthon. He had to remind himself that the ancient sorcerer was why he was in Nantitet. It was too easy to fall into the visions of Kaell and his earth-bound aspirations. No, it was Kerthon that drew him across the mountains and into political intrigue. He had planned to sneak away and go to the tower but the High King would have none of it. He commanded the two wizards to advise him and otherwise use their powers to create the perfect empire, free from sickness, poverty, and even death. Then Kaell had a better idea. Power for themselves. But Prosty had to be in control. He did not trust the younger wizard enough to let Kaell call the shots and after all, Prosty did have the superior wizardry.
Perhaps soon he could leave Nantitet. No one would miss him, least of all Kaell.
"Woolgathering, I presume?" said Kaell, who had stuck his head out the door. "In any case I have finished eating and now we can return to our discussion."
"Your dissertation you mean. I was merely listening."
"Your idea of flattery is not amusing, nor is it effective."
"No, not when you can do it so much better."
"What is eating at you?" asked Kaell.
"This entire thing. You know what I want to do."
"Ha! Your simple quest for the sorcerer's origins will unearth unlimited power for yourself. Do not try to confuse me, Prosty. You haven't the skill."
"Must you turn everything into a metaphor for power?"
"That's all there is. But go! Seek your destiny. I will not have to worry about your fitness as High King. But where shall I find another who is as suitable?"
"Look in the mirror, as you often do, I think you will find a fool big enough to attempt your plots."
"You mock me, and yet you take the lead in all that we do. I cannot reconcile your two natures."
"Perhaps they can't be reconciled."
"Then you are a wizard who is no longer in command of his abilities. A wizard follows one true course in all he does. He does not ebb and flow like the tide."
"Thank you for the lesson. I shall try to be a better wizard. At least I can be."
Kaell's face was red and he began a spell that sent flickers of flame along the floor around Prosty who danced out of the way of the painful fire. The flames danced up the walls and jumped onto Prosty and he struck at them with his hands. Kaell laughed and increased the flames.
There was some commotion down the hall and a handful of guards appeared with some nobles. The flames disappeared and the wizards stood side by side, smiled, and bowed to the nobles.
"I will kill you," whispered Kaell.
"Do not mettle with me, Kaell," said Prosty, after the hall was clear. "You haven't the power." He went back into his room and slammed the door. Servants peered around a bend in the corridor and saw the angry Kaell. They fled from his gaze and he returned to the dungeon.
"Not again," moaned Parean. "I can't take anymore."
"Tell me what I want to know," said Kaell.
Parean's chest was bare and dozens of red lines covered his body. The blood on his face had dried except for a slight trickle out of his left ear. He was slumped in a corner his hands and ankles manacled with rusty irons.
"I don't know anything."
"Oh, I think you do. You told me the approximate location of
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