Black Wizards Read Online Free

shortly.”
    “There is more to be done. The woman will not be found at Caer Corwell.”
    “No matter—I will send Razfallow to the farthest corner of the Realms if need be.”
    “No!” Hobarth’s voice was strong, and he stepped aggressively toward the wizard. “I must get her myself. Bhaal desires her blood to feed his altar.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Bhaal has shown me, and only me, where she can be found. I will go after her.”
    “And why should the god desire this woman’s blood to flow from his sockets?”
    “Perhaps Bhaal desires the victim to be a druid. There are none closer than Gwynneth, anymore—thanks to you and your council.”
    Cyndre chuckled wryly. “As I recall, you and your god had a hand in the elimination of the druids from Alaron. Now, the Ffolk of Callidyrr lack any central spiritual guidance—they are ripe to your persuasive efforts.”
    “Indeed,” agreed Hobarth, with a bow to the altar.
    “I wish you success. The earthpower of these druids can be vexing—though no match for your own might.”
    “Mine is but the strength of Bhaal,” said the cleric.
    “Of course … how thoughtless of me.” The wizard turned away so that his companion could not see the thin smile of amusement curling his lips. Clerics and their idiotic faith!
    “I shall leave tomorrow … this druid will not see the rising of the next full moon.”

    “It’s like they became invisible!” reported Randolph, the young captain of the castle guard company. The bearded warrior, not yet thirty, could not keep his voice from choking with frustration. “They disappeared into thin air!”
    “We killed five,” said Tristan. “How many could have escaped?”
    “There must have been at least two more,” insisted the guard, angrily clenching the hilt of his sword. “I found three of my men dead in the courtyard or on the wall. One had his throat cut; the other two were stabbed in the back.”
    “Quite a proficient band,” Tristan muttered bitterly. “But what did they want? Why? My father never …” His voice choked, and he did not continue.
    The guard said nothing. He and the prince stood quietly in the shambles of the king’s study. Together they looked out the broken window into the courtyard, watching dawn’s slow arrival.
    In the next room, the king’s body lay upon his bed, respectfully placed there by Friar Nolan, the cleric of Corwell Town. King Kendrick would be given a funeral befitting a leader of the Ffolk before being laid to rest in the royal barrow.
    With growing grief, Tristan tried to accept his father’s death. The knowledge did not seem to remain with him. For a time the truth would recede, and then, unexpectedly, would stab at Tristan with greater and greater force. Sometimes the pain was nearly unbearable.
    “Where’s Daryth?” he finally asked, trying hard to pull himself together.
    “He was leading the search,” replied Randolph.
    Tristan turned to look at the door to his father’s room. The captain of the guard started wearily toward the door.
    Tristan heard the door shut, and then he looked outside again. A whirlwind of thoughts assaulted him. He struggled with guilt and uncertainty. Why had his last moments with his father been angry ones? And what would happen to him, to the kingdom? Now that his father was gone, Tristan began to realize how much he had depended on him. A brooding sense of loneliness threatened to overwhelm him, and he thought wistfully of Robyn, so far away. He longed for her presence more desperately than ever. Impatiently he paced the floor, wishing Daryth would return. Finally, he flopped into a chair andstared into the long-dead coals in the fireplace.
    Practical thoughts pushed through his emotional storm. Messengers had already been dispatched to the cantrev lords of Corwell. These lords would arrive posthaste, and a council to determine the future of Corwell would convene. A new king would be selected.
    The thought of the pudgy Lord Koart or