The Fallen Fortress - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,10
course," Dorigen agreed, her amber eyes flashing with...
With what? Aballister wondered. Open hatred? Their relationship had been on a steady decline since Dorigen had returned from her humiliating defeat in Shilmista Forest, a defeat she had suffered at the hands of Aballister's own estranged son.
The older wizard shrugged away the personal problems. "Have you found them?" he asked evenly. He and Dorigen could settle their score after the immediate threat was eliminated, but for now, they both had greater problems. The spirit of Bogo Rath had returned to Aballister the previous night, with the information that Cadderly was indeed on his way to Castle Trinity.
The report inspired both trepidation and exhilaration in the older wizard. Aballister was obsessed with conquering the region, a goal given to him by the avatar of Talona herself, and Cadderly certainly seemed to be among the foremost obstacles to those designs. The wizard could not deny the tingle of anticipation he felt at the thought of doing battle with his formidable son. By all reports, Cadderly did not even know his relationship to Aballister, and the thought of crushing the upstart youth, both in magical battle and emotionally with the secret truth, inevitably widened a grin across cruel Aballister's angular features.
The news of Cadderly's march inspired nothing but fear in Dorigen, however. She had no desire to tangle with the young priest and his brutal friends again, especially not now, with her hands still sore from the beating Cadderly had given them. Many of her spells required precise hand movements, and with her fingers bent crooked and joints smashed, more than one spell had backfired on her since her return from the elven forest
I have seen no sign of Cadderly," Dorigen replied after a long pause to study again the blurry images in the crystal ball. "My guess is that he and his companions have just recently left the library, if they have left at all, and I dare not send my magical sight so near our enemy's stronghold."
"Two hours, and you have found nothing?" Aballister did not sound pleased. He paced the edge of the small room, running withered fingers across a curtain that separated this area from Dorigen's boudoir. A smile spread across the wizard's face, though, despite his trepidation, when he remembered the many games he and Dorigen had enjoyed behind this very curtain.
"I did not say that," Dorigen answered sharply, understanding the conniving grin, and she turned back again to the crystal ball.
Aballister rushed back across the room to peer over his associate's shoulder. At first, only a gray mist swirled within the confines of the crystal ball, but gradually, with Dorigen's coaxing, it began to shift and take on definite form. The two wizards viewed the foothills of the Snowflakes, obviously the southeastern mountain region, for the road to Carradoon was plainly in sight Something moved along that road, something hideous.
The assassin," Aballister breathed. Dorigen regarded the older wizard curiously.
The spirit of Bogo was cryptic on this point," Aballister explained. This thing you have discovered was one of the leaders of the Night Mask band, the one called, appropriately it would now seem, Ghost Apparently our dear Cadderly took from Ghost a magical device, and now the wretched creature has come back for it Can you sense die spirit's power through your ball?"
"Of course not," Dorigen answered indignantly.
Then go out to the mountains and watch over this one," Aballister growled at her. "We may have a powerful ally here, one that will eliminate our problems before they ever make their way to Castle Trinity."
"I will not"
Aballister straightened as though he had been slapped.
"I have not yet recovered," Dorigen explained. "My spells are not dependable. You would ask me to go near a malignant ghost, and near your dangerous son, without full use of my abilities?" Her reference to Cadderly as Aballis-ter's son made the older wizard cringe, the obvious implication being that this entire trouble was somehow Aballister's fault
"You have at your disposal one far more capable of estimating the strength of (his undead monster," Dorigen went on, not backing down in the least "One who can communicate with the creature if necessary and who can certainly learn more about its intentions than I."
Aballister's wrath melted away as he came to understand Dorigen's reasoning. "Druzil," he replied, referring to his familiar, a mischievous imp of the lower planes.
"Druzil," Dorigen echoed, her tone derisive.
Aballister put a crooked hand up to his sharp chin and mumbled. Still, he seemed unconvinced.