Samas heaved a sigh. "I suppose I do, too. He'd probably just change our envoys into ghosts and zombies and add them to his legions."
One by one, the remaining zulkirs rejected the notion of suing for peace. Zola looked relieved when it became clear how the informal vote was leaning.
At the end of it all, Lauzoril pursed his pale, thin lips. "So be it, then. Perhaps it was a bad idea. But surely we all agree that, even if we're resolved to remain at war, we can't prosecute it aggressively at the moment. According to Goodman Springhill's spies, Szass Tam has retreated north with the greater part of his army, and we should retire to our own strongholds, to rebuild our strength and determine how to overcome the current impediment to our spellcasting."
Bareris lifted his hand. "If Your Omnipotence has finished, may I speak to that point?"
"You're here to offer your opinion," Dmitra said, "so long as you do it courteously."
"Thank you, Mistress," said the bard. "I'm well aware that I lack the wisdom of a zulkir, a tharchion, or a high priest. I'm just a junior officer. But I have learned a little about war during my years of service, and it seems to me that now is the perfect time to launch a new campaign against Szass Tam."
Lauzoril shook his head. "How can that be, when our forces are crippled?"
"Because, Master, such things are relative, and the lich is more crippled. For the moment, wizardry has lost a measure of its power. That means, in the battles to come, men-at-arms and priestly magic will play a decisive role, and who has more of both? You do-you zulkirs who control the populous south and the sea trade that enables you to hire sellswords from abroad. Whereas the majority of Szass Tam's troops are undead, constrained to serve through sorcery, and when the blue fires came, he lost the use of a good many of them."
Malark nodded. "My agents confirm it."
"So I respectfully suggest you press your advantage," Bareris said, "before Szass Tam figures out how to neutralize it."
Nevron grunted. "I see the sense in what you recommend, but the world is in turmoil. I doubt we understand a tenth part of what's happening. We certainly don't know how to extinguish or turn back the blue fires. Do you think an army can march and fight under such conditions?"
"Yes," Bareris said, "and why shouldn't it try? What do you have to lose? The blue fire is no more likely to consume a legion on the march than one hiding in its barracks. It can spring up anywhere, with no warning."
Malark fingered the birthmark on his chin. "The disruptions have damaged my network of spotters and scouts. But some of my agents are still on the job, and even with impaired magic, I'm optimistic that they can relay information quickly enough for it to be of use. If a wave of blue flame is flowing across the countryside, perhaps I can warn an army in the field in time for it to get out of the way."
"That's encouraging," Dmitra said. "Having heard the advice of our tharchions and their subordinates, I now believe we ought to fight the northerners as aggressively as we can. What do the rest of you think?"
Samas shook his head. It made his jowls and chins wobble. "I don't know…"
Lallara sneered. "No one is requiring you to go yourself."
The fat man seemed to swell like a toad and his blotchy face bloomed even redder. "Are you questioning my courage? I fought at the Keep of Sorrows, the same as you!"
"Yes, you did," Dmitra said, "and none of us doubts the bravery or loyalty of any of the zulkirs." It was, of course, a preposterous statement, at least with regard to their alleged fidelity, but it might serve to steer the discussion back into productive channels. "I understand your misgivings. Truth be told, I share them. But I also know we're fighting for our lives against a powerful, brilliant adversary, and we must take advantage of every opportunity."
Samas snorted. "I seem to remember you saying much the same thing before we marched a critical portion of our strength into Szass Tam's trap. But all right. Let's see if we can finally bring this stupid war to an end."
One by one, the other zulkirs concurred. "So-specifically, what will be our strategy?" Lauzoril asked. "Do we take back the Keep of Sorrows?"
The silver stud in her nostril gleaming in the lamplight, Nymia Focar cleared her throat. "Master, that wouldn't be my advice. Reclaiming the fortress would require a lengthy siege, if it can be done at all, and we want to accomplish something quickly, before Szass Tam regains the full measure of his arcane powers."
"What would that something be?" Nevron asked. "Is it time to assault High Thay itself?"
Dimon shook his head. "No, Your Omnipotence, I wouldn't recommend that, either. It would be even more difficult and take longer than getting back into the keep. So my advice is to ignore the fortress but reclaim the rest of Lapendrar. It should be easy enough with Hezass Nymar and his legions dead. Next, retake your lost territories in northern Eltabbar, and conquer as much of Delhumide as you can. Once you do that, you'll have the Thaymount surrounded, cut off from the Keep of Sorrows and Surthay and Gauros as well."
"I like that," Dmitra remarked. Then, from the corner of her eye, she glimpsed an unfamiliar figure standing just inside the door. Startled, she jerked around in that direction.
Bareris looked where everyone else was looking, then cried out in astonishment.
Tammith had somehow slipped past a locked door without an assembly of the greatest wizards in the world noticing until she was fully inside. Tammith, clad in the somber mail and trappings of a champion or captain of Szass Tam's host, her pretty face, though dark in life, now whiter than white in contrast to all that black. Tammith, whom he'd destroyed ten years ago, or so he'd always believed.
Iphegor Nath jumped up from his chair, overturning it to bang against the floor. He raised his hand and scarlet flame burst from it.
Bareris leaped up, too, without knowing what he intended, or why.
Tammith dropped to her knees. "I come as a peaceful supplicant!"
That was enough to persuade Iphegor to hesitate. He had plenty of reason to despise and distrust the undead, but not quite enough to lash out when one humbled herself before him. Even now, such creatures were considered to have their legitimate place in the proper Thayan order of things. Most of the vampires and dread warriors in the realm served Szass Tam, but thanks to the labors of Zola Sethrakt and her subordinates, the lords of the south commanded some as well.
"It appears," said Dmitra Flass, "that everyone can safely be seated." She fixed her gaze on Tammith. "I see what you are, blood-drinker. But who are you?"
"My name is Tammith Iltazyarra. Until Szass Tam and his lieutenants lost control of me and I deserted, I commanded the Silent Company. Perhaps you've heard of it."
Bareris ached to hear her speak. Her voice was sweet and familiar, yet cold and flat, a travesty of the one he remembered.
"Yes," Dmitra said. "You've given us a good deal of trouble over the years."
"Then perhaps," Tammith said, "I can atone for it now. I want revenge on Szass Tam for forcing me to serve him, and the only way I'll get it is to fight for the council."
"That sounds plausible," Lallara said. "But then, if the lich sent an impostor to mislead us and spy on us, I imagine he would give her a persuasive tale to tell."
"Your Omnipotence," said Bareris, "I know Tammi… Captain Iltazyarra." Although if she still remembered him, at least with any vestige of emotion, no one could have known from her demeanor. "I mean, I did when she was alive, and I can vouch that she didn't accept her transformation or induction into Szass Tam's army willingly."