The other officials glanced around.
“I don’t know,” said Lord Alvin in a sour voice. “He knew the time. I told him myself.”
“He’s never late. I don’t like this.” Shavas bit her lower lip. A line marred the marble smoothness of her forehead. Raistlin noticed that the fingers of one hand curled in on themselves, clenching into a fist.
“Perhaps we should wait,” suggested the mage, rising to his feet.
“No . . . no.” Shavas’s face cleared, though with an obvious effort. “He will be here shortly, I’m certain.”
“Very well. Councillor.”
“Excuse us a moment, Councillor,” said Lord Cal. “A word with you and the other members. In private.” The ministers gathered around, talking in low voices.
Raistlin, studying the people who had been studying him, decided he couldn’t trust any of them. His experiences with officials in the past had taught him that alliances among rulers of state were both invisible and dangerous.
” ‘The person caught in the webs of intrigue soon finds himself fed to the spider,'” he quoted to himself, recalling a proverb of the great political revolutionary, Eyavel.
He wondered what they were discussing and was considering gliding forward to overhear, when a shrill giggle made him recall something important he’d meant to do.
ISO
Majene
Leaning over Caramon’s back, Raistlin grabbed Earwig by the collar and drew him near with a golden, skeletal hand.
“Earwig, do you recognize any of these men? Was one of them the one who tried to kill you?”
The kender shook his head almost immediately. “No, Raist. But I could ask if they know who he — ”
Raistlin glared, gripping the kender more tightly. “If you dare say as much as one word, I’ll turn you into glass and drop you from a mountaintop.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?” Earwig, touched, reached over to clasp in appreciation the thin fingers that held him,
“Ouch! Ah!” The mage snatched his hand back quickly. “What did you do? You burned me!”
“Nothing! I didn’t do anything, Raistlin!” Earwig protested, staring at his hand in bewilderment.
Raistlin grabbed the kender ‘s wrist. Holding it up to observe it better in the lamplight, he saw a plain golden ring on the fourth finger.
The mage glanced around quickly to see if anyone was watching. The ministers were still involved in their private concerns. “Earwig!” he whispered. “Where did you get this ring?”
“Ring? Oh, this! I found it somewhere,” the kender replied glibly. “I think someone dropped it.”
Raistlin took hold of the ring finger and muttered a simple spell. The ring began to glow, as if a light were shining on it from an unseen source. “Magic.” He tried to pull the ring from the kender’s finger.
“Ouch! Stop that! It hurts! Hey, did you say my ring was magic?” Earwig inquired eagerly. Raistlin let go of the ring, and the kender rubbed his hand.
“No, Earwig. I said ‘tragic.’ It’s tragic that someone
181
DRAQONLANCE PRelUOes
lost such a valuable ring.”
“Please, no more arguments!” Shavas’s voice, sharper than normal, broke in on the mage’s. “Let us start.” When everyone in the room had resumed their seats and quieted down, she continued. “This meeting of the Mereklar Council is different from any other gathering to date. Our city is in peril, and the fate of the world is in question. We have asked these men”—gesturing to the companions—”to aid us in our time of need. The floor is now open to questions.”
“It’s a strange coincidence that a mage shows up now. Who’s to say that he’s not the cause of our problems?” Lord Alvin sneered, pointing at Raistlin. “All know wizards have always conspired to rule the world!”
“I tell you. Councillor, that we don’t need them!” Lord Cal added, “The city guard will take care of the matter. We just need more time!”
“Please, Lord Alvin, contain yourself. You have no evidence to support your accusation. And you. Lord Cal, show respect for our guests,” Shavas commanded. “I’m sure that if Lord Manion were here, he would agree with the steps I have taken.”
“I am sorry, Majere, if I have slighted you,” Lord Alvin apologized, though he said it between clenched teeth.