Richard Lee Byers - Unclean: The Haunted Lands, Book 1

T HE Z ULKIRS

Aznar Thrul (Evocation); also tharchion of Priador Druxus Rhym (Transmutation) Lallara (Abjuration)

Lauzoril (Enchantment)

Mythrellan (Illusion)

Nevron (Conjuration)

Szass Tam (Necromancy)

Yaphyll (Divination)

T HE T HARCHIONS

Azhir Kren (Gauros)

Dimon (Tyraturos); also a priest of Bane Dmitra Flass (Eltabbar); also a Red Wizard of Illusion and princess of Mulmaster; the First Princess of Thay

Hezass Nymar (Lapendrar); also Eternal Flame of the temple of Kossuth in Escalant Homen Odesseiron (Surthay) Invarri Metron (Delhumide) Milsantos Daramos (Thazalhar) Nymia Focar (Pyarados)

Pyras Autorian (Thaymount) Thessaloni Canos (Alaor)

O THERS

Iphegor Nath, High Flamelord of the Church of Kossuth Ramas Ankhalab, autharch of Anhaurz Samas Kul, Master of the Guild of Foreign Trade; also a Red Wizard of Transmutation Shabella the Pale, Guildmistress of the Temple of Mask in Bezantur; also chief of that citys thieves guild

78 Mirtul, the Year of Risen Elfkin

I t wouldnt take long for the crew, accomplished sailors all, to moor the cog and run out the gangplank, but Bareris Anskuld was too impatient to wait. He swung his long legs over the rail, and ignoring the shout of the mariner seeking to dissuade him, he jumped for the dock.

It was a fairly long drop and he landed hard, nearly falling before he managed a staggering step to catch himself. But he didnt break anything, and at last, after six long years abroad, he was home in Bezantur once more.

He gave his traveling companions on the ship a grin and a wave. Then he was off, striding up the dock and on through the crowds beyond, picking his way through stacks and cart-loads of goods the stevedores of the busy port were loading or unloading, sword swinging at his hip and silver-stringed yarting slung across his back.

Some folk eyed him speculatively as he tramped by, and he realized with a flicker of amusement that they took him for some manner of peculiar outlander in a desperate hurry. They had the hurry part right, but he was as Thayan as they were. It was just that during his time abroad, seeking to make his way among folk who were seldom particularly fond of his countrymen, hed abandoned the habit of shaving the wheat blond hair from his head.

He supposed hed have to take it up again, but not today. Today something infinitely more wonderful demanded his attention.

For all his eagerness, he stopped, stood, and waited respectfully with everyone else while a pair of Red Wizards and their attendants passed by. Then he was off again and soon left the salt-water-and-fish odor of the harbor behind. Now home smelled as he remembered it, stinking of smoke, garbage, and waste like any great city, but laced with a hint of incense, for Bezantur was Thays City of a Thousand Temples, and it was a rare day when the priests of one god or another didnt parade through the streets, chanting their prayers and swinging their censers.

There were no great temples where Bareris was headed. A worshiper would be lucky to happen upon a mean little shrine. He passed through a gate in the high black wall and into the squalid shantytown beyond.

He took the back-alley shortcut hed used as a boy. It could be dangerous if a fellow looked like he had anything worth stealing, and these days, carrying an expensive musical instrument, he supposed he did. But during his travels, hed faced foes considerably more daunting than footpads, and perhaps it showed in the way he moved. At any rate, if there were thieves lurking anywhere around, they suffered him to past unmolested.

A final turn and his destination, just one nondescript shack in a row of equally wretched hovels, came into view. The sight froze him in place for a heartbeat, then he sprinted up the narrow mud street and pounded on the door.

Open up! he shouted. Its Bareris. Im back!

After a time that seemed to stretch for a day, a tenday, an eternity, the rickety door creaked open on its leather hinges. On the other side stood Ral Iltazyarra. The simpleton, too, was as Bareris remembered him, doughy of body and face, with a slack mouth and acne studding his brow and neck.

Bareris threw his arms around him. My friend, he said, its good to see you. Wheres Tammith?

Ral began to sob.

The youth was nice-looking in a common sort of way, but he looked up at Dmitra Flass, often called First Princess of Thay for the sake of her sharp wits, iron will, and buxom, rose-and-alabaster comeliness, tharchion of Eltabbar and so mistress of the city in which he dwelled, with a mixture of fear and petulance that could scarcely have been less attractive.

Maybe I did throw a rock, he whined, but everyone else was throwing them, too.

Bad luck for you, then, that youre the one who got caught, Dmitra replied. She shifted her gaze to the blood-orc warrior whod dragged the prisoner before her throne. Take him to your barracks and tie him to a post. You and your comrades can throw stones at him and see how he likes it. If theres anything left of him at sunset, turn him loose to crawl away.

The boy started to cry and plead. The orc backhanded him across the face then manhandled him out of her presence. Dmitra looked to see who the next prisoner wasin the wake of a riot, administering justice was a time-consuming, tedious businessand Szass Tam appeared in the back of the hall. She had a clear view of the doorway but hadnt seen him enter. Nor had she, Red Wizard of Illusion though she was, felt a pulse of magic. Yet there he was.

And about time, too, she thought. She rose, spread the skirt of her crimson brocade gown, and curtsied. As a mark of special favor, hed decreed she need no longer kneel to him. Her courtiers and prisoners turned to see whom she was greeting, and they of course hastily abased themselves.