Dark Magic Read Online Free

brought in a decanter of crystal and a single glass. “You do not drink with me?” He filled the glass as Lykander shook his head. “No matter. Aye, I divined that you must eventually come begging my aid.”
    “Begging?” snapped Cenobar.
    “Asking, does it suit your pride better,” Anomius returned, and drank deep, smacking his lips. “Aye, that I foresaw. You need me to undo those magicks I laid that have surely brought Sathoman close to victory. To achieve that end you must give me back my power. I suggest you do that now.”
    “Eat first,” Lykander said, “and talk. You must understand our need of caution in this matter.”
    “Oh, yes,” said Anomius, wine-flushed beneath his grime. “But of what shall we talk? The defeating of Sathoman? I’ll aid you in that.”
    “So readily?” asked Lykander.
    Anomius raised a hand, turning it so that firelight and starlight alternated on the black metal. “I am bound to serve you,” he said. “That, or—as you so delicately pointed out—die. I prefer to live: I have things to do of my own purpose.”
    For a moment his confident expression shifted, his ugly face contorting, becoming a mask of unsullied rage.
    “And what,” Lykander said, “might those things be?”
    “I was betrayed.” As swiftly as it had come, so the rage bled from his face. “And I would have my revenge. You need not concern yourselves—it is not a thing that coincides with the Tyrant’s desire to ridhimself of Sathoman. In that I shall lend you all my efforts; but in return I’ll have your help.”
    “Unwise,” said Cenobar, echoed by Rassuman and Andrycus.
    “Refuse and I choose death,” Anomius said, extending both wrists to expose the confining bracelets. “Burash! Do you so doubt yourselves that you still fear me while I wear these things?”
    “You may not leave this place, save accompanied by two of us,” Lykander declared. “You will do our bidding. The consequences of treachery you know—do you accept these strictures?”
    “I anticipated no others.”
    Anomius beamed as servants came in with a platter of roasted venison and the other foods he had requested. He began to eat, grease joining the dirt upon his face and his robe. The sorcerers watched in silence, granting Lykander the role of spokesman.
    “Then your powers shall be restored,” the fat mage promised. “After you have eaten. Perhaps after you have bathed?”
    “The restoration first,” Anomius grunted, the words spraying particles over the table. “Then the bath. With perfumed oils and women to tend my needs. A comfortable bed, and robes suitable to my station. After all, do I not become a power in Kandahar? One of you?”
    The faces across the marquety displayed offense at this, but none gave argument. Lykander promised, “Those things you may have; now tell me of this other thing, of this revenge you seek.”
    Anomius broke bread to wipe up gravy, belched loudly and downed more wine.
    “I’d seek out two men,” he said, his voice grown cold. “A freesword of Cuan na’For who goes by the name of Bracht, and a Lyssian youth named Calandryll den Karynth. They were in my company when you took me, and I suspect they escaped along the Shemme—they sought transport to Gessyth, so Kharasul was their likely destination.”
    “Were they your acolytes?” Lykander demanded.
    “No!” Anomius shook his head. “They were treacherous dogs and I’d see them dead. It was their trickery gave you me.”
    “Duped by mere mortals?” Cenobar murmured, smiling as Anomius favored him with a poisonous glare.
    “Do they threaten our . . . alliance . . . it may not be,” said Lykander.
    “They play no part in the affairs of Kandahar,” Anomius returned. “This matter is a personal thing—but do you refuse me, then we have no alliance and Sathoman shall run free.”
    “Assurances must be given,” Lykander said.
    “Readily,” Anomius agreed. “I’ll open my mind to you and you shall see this thing