Dark Thane

"Don't be shy," Jungor said. "I know you have something to tell me, some tidbit of explanation. If I thought you had betrayed me, you would already be dead, dear Ferro."

Ferro started in his chair, nearly bolting for the door. With a supreme effort of will, aided by his stubborn Daergar pride, he was able to control his fear. "The draconians that I hired attacked Tarn's party before my agent could deliver the killing blow to the king. Stupid, stupid of them! Still, things might have gone as planned if General Otaxx had not appeared with a large force of the Pax Tharkas garrison. He was traveling behind the king, his soldiers being burdened with a large consignment of supplies for Thorbardin. When he heard the fighting, he quickly gathered his troops and rushed to the attack, turning the tide of the battle."

"So, what you are saying is, you failed to properly reconnoiter the situation and see what forces were arrayed against you," Jungor said with a pleasantness that belied the edge in his voice.

"I am afraid so," Ferro reluctantly admitted.

"I cannot abide a fool, especially if he is to be my master of scouts, Master Dunskull," Jungor said. "I assume all the draconians were killed to prevent them telling who hired them."

"We ourselves attacked the last group from the rear," Ferro said, "to cover our mistake."

"Commendable. And this agent, this assassin, what about him? He was eliminated as well?"

When Ferro did not immediately answer, Jungor sat up, glaring at him in the firelight. Finally, a small voice said from the shadows, "Not exactly."

"What do you mean? Where is he now?" Jungor demanded.

"You saw him today in the Council Hall," Ferro answered. "Ilbars Bleakfell."

Jungor's jaw dropped open. "You corrupted that pompous Daewar buffoon? By the gods, Ferro, I underestimated you."

"You do not understand, my lord," Ferro said nervously. "Captain Ilbars is not himself. The real Ilbars is waiting out eternity at the bottom of a bog, most likely. What you saw today in the Council Hall was a sivak draconian named Zen. He was the leader of the band I hired to kill Tarn. He indeed killed Ilbars and took his place, as was the plan." Jungor nodded, listening. He had heard of the sivaks' ability to assume the shape of anyone it kills. He was also keenly aware of how dangerous such a creature, loose in Thorbardin, could prove. If Tarn were to discover him…

Ferro continued, "The draconians sprang their ambush before Zen could get close enough to the king to kill him. But Zen survived the battle somehow and accompanied us back to Thorbardin, still in the guise of Ilbars Bleakfell. I have not had the opportunity to speak with him alone, therefore I am puzzled… that is, I am unclear as to his ultimate intentions."

"Unclear? Your euphemisms are tiresome," Jungor said, his patience worn thin. "So where is this failed assassin now?"

Again, it was some moments before Ferro was able to answer. Finally, his words came blurting out. "After the Council, he slipped into the crowd and disappeared. I don't know where he is. My agents are searching for him as we speak. All I know is that he's somewhere in the city."

Steeling his patience, Jungor rose from the couch with a deep sigh and slowly strode to the window. With his hands clasped behind his back, he stared out into the torchlit darkness of the garden. "I trust that your agents will find him," he said at last.

"Of course, my lord," Ferro said hurriedly. With Jungor's back turned, Ferro lifted the brandy decanter and poured a third of its contents down his throat Coughing on the potent liquor, he said, "But with his shapechanging ability, Zen could be someone else by now. He could be… anyone."

Jungor nodded and hissed without turning. "Pray that you find him before he finds you. And may the gods who are no more help you if you fail this time."

A Moment