farmers and fishermen of the small community on the banks of Impresk Lake.
"I'll not deny that the library has been wounded," Dorigen replied, "but we really do not know the extent of those wounds. You seem to have underestimated Shilmista as well. Must I remind you of our most recent defeat?"
"And must I remind you that it was you, not I, who presided over that defeat?" the older wizard growled, his dark-eyed gaze boring into Dorigen. "That it was Dorigen who fled the forest at the most critical stages of the battle?" Seeing her cowed, Aballister again rocked back in his chair and calmed.
"I sympathize with your pains," he said quietly. "You have lost Trennek. That must have been a terrible blow."
Dorigen winced. She had expected the remark, but it stung her nonetheless. Tiennek, a barbarian warrior she had plucked from the northland and trained to serve as her consort, had replaced Aballister as her lover. Dorigen didn't doubt for a minute the older wizard's satisfaction upon hearing that the great warrior had been killed. A woman nearly two feet shorter than Tiennek and barely a third of his weight had done the deed. In reporting the incident, the imp Dnizil had purposely downplayed the young woman's prowess, Dorigen knew, just to fan the flames that had come between the two wizards.
Dorigen wanted to fight back, wanted to shout in the wizard's bee that he could not understand the power of that young woman, Danica, the monk escort of Cadderly, and of all the enemies she had met in Shilmista. She looked to Druzil, who had been there beside her, but the imp covered his doglike face with his leathery wings and made no move to support her.
"Wretched, cowardly creature," Dorigen muttered. Since their return to Castle Trinity, Dnizil had avoided contact with Dorigen. He held no loyalty to Aballister, she knew, except that Aballister was in control here, and the prudent imp always preferred to be on the winning side.
"Enough of this bantering," Aballister said suddenly. "Our plans have been delayed by some unexpected problems."
"Like your own son," Dorigen had to put in.
Aballister's smile hinted that Dorigen might have overstepped her bounds.
"My son," the wizard echoed, "dear young Cadderly. Yes, Dorigen, he has proved the most unexpected and severe of our problems. Do you agree, Boygo?"
Dorigen looked to the youngest of Castle Trinity's wizards, Bogo Rath, whom she and her mentor routinely called "Boygo."
The young man narrowed his eyes at the insult, not that he hadn't expected it. He was so very different from his two peers, and so often the butt of their jokes. He jerked his head back and forth, flipping his long, stringy brown hair over one ear, away from the side of his head that he kept shaved.
Dorigen, tiring of Bogo's outrageous actions, almost growled at his ridiculous haircut.
"Your son has indeed proved to be quite a problem," Bo-go replied. "What else might we expect from the offspring of mighty Aballister? If young Cadderly must fight on the other side, then we would be wise to pay attention to him."
"Young Cadderly," Dorigen mumbled, her face locked in an expression of disgust. "Young Cadderly" had to be at least two or three years older than this upstart!
Aballister held up a small, bulging bag and shook it once to show the others that its thickness came from many coins - gold, probably. Dorigen understood the bag's significance, understood what it would buy for Aballister, and for Bogo as well. Bogo had come from Wfestgate, a city four hundred miles to the northeast, at the mouth of the Lake of Dragons. Wfestgate was notable as a bustling trading town, and it was known, too, for an assassin band called the Night Masks, who were among the cruelest killers in the Realms.
"Even your Night Masks will have a difficult time striking at our young scholar, whether he is in Shilmista or has returned to the Edificant Library," Dorigen asserted, if for no better reason than to take some of the bite out of Aballister's icy demeanor concerning his son. For all that she hated Cadderly - he had broken her hands and stolen several magical items from her - Dorigen simply could not believe Aballister's viciousness toward his own son.
"He is not in Shilmista," Bogo replied with a grin, his brown eyes flashing with excitement, "nor in the library." Dorigen stared at Bogo, and her sudden interest obviously pleased the young wizard. "He is in Carradoon."
"Rousing the garrison, no