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been snatched away.
"There is another problem, Questor Xylox, he said, shaking his head.
Questor spells powerful enough to bend a man's will to one's own purpose, and
to maintain such control for a long period, carry a high cost in thaumaturgic
energy. Each of us might be able to cast four or five such spells, and to hold
them for thirty minutes or so.
"For a dedicated Specialist, such as Perfuco, such spells come at a trifling
cost. We would be overwhelmed long before we could assemble a force strong
enough to procure our escape."
Grimm had hit upon the major disadvantage a Questor faced when confronting
another Guild Specialist: a Questor's spells were limited in scope only by his
imagination, but forged by the marshalling of tremendous energies. A
Specialist's rote-learned, runic spells were more limited in scope, but they
were invariable and practiced endlessly until perfect.
The very patterning of a spell cost a Questor dear, whilst a Specialist's
patterning was ready-made, by means of a standard chant providing the spell's
structure within its carefully-crafted, well-researched, standardised
syllables. Although the result of a brief one-on-one battle between a Questor
and any other kind of Guild Mage was a foregone conclusion, a Seventh Rank
Mentalist aided by four mage companions and fifteen hundred armed Seculars
could surely defeat a pair of Questors with ease, if at considerable cost in
life.
Tordun lounged on his bed, seemingly unbothered by his scanty attire; his
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pale body was muscular and impressive, as if sculpted from the finest
alabaster, and he did not appear ashamed to display it.
"You are not alone, mage, the swordsman growled. I am worth ten of those
skinny louts, whether I am using a weapon or bare-handed."
"Excellent, Xylox said, his tone sour. With the ten men we might ensorcel,
we might account for ... one-and-one third of a percent of the General's
troops. That leaves the vast majority of his army intact.
"What of Master Crest? He has neither a whip nor a dagger, and I would guess
that hand-to-hand combat is not his forte.
"And the female urchin; what of her?"
"I have a name: Drexelica, the girl muttered in a sullen tone, but Xylox
ignored her. She slumped onto one of the beds, her eyes blazing.
It seemed to cost the senior mage considerable effort, but he turned back to
face his junior. Questor Grimm; do you have anyconstructive advice to offer?"
"We could replace the fluid in these bottles with water, get back on these
beds and reinsert the needles, the younger mage suggested. We could then
feign continued intoxication and convince Armitage that we are duly Pacified
servants of the General. During the initial assault on High Lodge, we raise
the alarm, assuming that our deception has not been detected ... of course, we
would need to keep our bedazzled friend, Perfuco, and his fellow mages, well
away from us; they would surely detect such a sham in an instant."
Xylox crossed his arms across his chest. Your suggestion lacks appeal, he
drawled. Do you have anyother suggestions?"
Grimm shrugged. We could pool our resources and forge a spell of
Translocation to send one of us back to Arnor House or to High Lodge, to give
advance warning of the attack. This would, of course, leave the other members
of the expedition at the tender mercies of Quelgrum, Armitage and Perfuco. I
also imagine that neither of us has a very firm concept of the bearing of
either High Lodge or Arnor House from this location."
"Neitherof these options sounds very enticing, good mages, the wiry Crest
said. I can see an awful lot of ifs and buts in both plans."
"There is a third alternative, Grimm said in a soft voice, as new
inspiration came to him. Wenegotiate. Somehow, we convince the General that
his cause is hopeless, and we persuade him to give it up. We Questors are
dangerous, and I do not think General Quelgrum would relish a blood-bath."
Tordun guffawed, his laughter so loud that Grimm had to slash his hand
through the air to remind the swordsman there might be guards outside the
room.
In a more subdued voice, the albino said Oh, I can just see that, Questor
Grimm. We waltz up to Quelgrum and tell him that he's surrounded. I'm sure
he'll just fold up and surrender immediately!"
"I haven't finished, Tordun! Grimm snapped, his tone harsher than he
intended. For once, Xylox did not reproach him for his breach of protocol in
slipping out of the starchy, formal Mage Speech.
"I beg your pardon, Lord Mage, the albino replied in an acidic tone. Pray
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continue."
"We convince him that High Lodge is alreadyprepared for such an attack,
Grimm said, clamping down on his fulminating emotions, and that victory will
only come through the payment of a very, very heavy butcher's bill. Quelgrum
may be misguided, but he does not seem insane."
"Perfuco may know High Lodge as well as, or better than, either of us, Xylox
said, rolling his eyes in ridicule. Seculars move in and out all the time,
and the mages of High Lodge are soft and weak, through years of
self-indulgence and easy living. Perfuco will know that."
Grimm clasped his hands behind his head and stretched. His frequent reaction
to worry was to yawn, and he found himself doing so now. He was aware that
such a gesture might make him appear blasé and cocksure, but he thought it
might not be a bad impression to give.
"We do not have to expect the General to take our word for it, he said. I
understand that you have mastered the sleight of Telepathy, and that you could
contact Lord Thorn by such means."
"I would already have done so, were I able! the older mage replied, growing
red in the face. At our present distance from the House, the energy
requirements would be beyond even our combined resources. The idea is
risible!"
"We will tell Quelgrum how we communicated with the Lodge while we were
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