"Aye," Fzoul said. "Manshoon felt that if magic was to succeed against spellfire at all, it must be by new spells devised to deal with spellfire or by some combination of spells or manner of attack that we, as experienced workers-with-Art, had missed seeing. I agree with this view. We had already sent out a summons to all our magelings, to a meeting in the High Hall. When they met, Manshoon invited them to go out and seize spellfire by whatever means they chose."
"Filling the field with a score or more of wild, ruthless, half-tutored mages? Was that wise?" The beholder drifted closer, fixing several disapproving eyes on the priest.
"It was necessary," Fzoul said, trying not to sound apologetic. "Our magelings need a weeding. We'd like some of them tested and all of them given experience, and there are one or two who have developed or found spells we'd like to see in action-before their owners have time to plan and properly prepare for an assault on us. The stability of the Brotherhood is better served if we remain in control of it for some time to come."
"So your force from the Stonelands is lost in the north reaches of Hullack Forest, various magelings are wandering all over the map, and Shandril's disappeared from view-in a sovereign realm with its own powerful band of organized wizards. This is your plan?" Its deep voice purred with sarcasm as it drifted lower.
Fzoul stepped back despite himself, but continued flatly, "The force under Karkul Memrimmon laid a trap for Shandril, which she fought her way out of. Evidently thinking herself free of enemies, she camped and practiced hurling her spellfire for hours. After dark, Karkul's force surrounded her and attacked."
"And were slaughtered in their turn?" The beholder winded amused.
"Well, yes-a few fled, but Karkul, the upperpriest, and the rest fell. Shandril had to destroy a fair stretch of forest to do this and now, we believe, has exhausted her spellfire again-with two magelings moving in on her." "Three I know of," Xarlraun corrected.
Fzoul raised an eyebrow. "You seem to have sources unknown to me," he said, his voice a soft challenge.
The beholder seemed to smile. "Have you any more of those flying bites?"
Fzoul nodded. "I'll see." He strode to the door of the sanctum, gave curt orders, indicated a guard at random, and returned to the beholder.
"Tell me more of your plans, should this Shandril escape from the Hullack Forest," the eye tyrant ordered. Fzoul quelled a flash of anger and nodded, face expressionless. "Our agents in Arabel have orders to do whatever it takes-even revealing their loyalties by making open war in the city-to prevent Shandril from moving farther west into Cormyr. We hope to drive her to the Stonelands or Tilverton, where our forces are stronger. At that time, the more powerful members of the Brotherhood will take an active part in trying to seize spellfirewith the very real reward of rising to lead us all if they gain it."
"And what if you do gain it? What use is this power to blast men to ashes?"
"We see-" Fzoul began as the terrified guard, cursing and shouting, was catapulted naked into the chamber. When he saw Fzoul, he began to plead, offering money, mistresses, information about hidden treasure caches and the doings of Fzoul's rivals-Fzoul turned his back and walked away.
The temple guard flew at the high priest from behind, hands outstretched to grasp Fzoul's neck. The beholder watched with interest. When Fzoul made no move, it reluctantly reached out with its eye-powers to prevent murder. The diving guard tore through the map image, scattering it into sparkling nothingness-and then was tugged aside, jerking and thrashing as a fish struggles in a net.
Fzoul turned his head and smiled up at the eye tyrant. "My thanks," he said. "Primarily we are interested in spellfire to avoid having it fall into the hands of our enemies. If it is lost to all, we will not be utterly devastated. If it falls into the hands of foes, we may be utterly destroyed."
The high priest turned to meet Xarlraun's central eye directly. The guard was trying to flee, now, darting back and forth as ten eyestalks turned and twisted to follow him. The beholder rumbled, "Proceed. Tell me what the Brotherhood would do with spellfire."
"If we did gain spellfire," Fzoul responded, "we would use it first to enforce discipline in the ranks of the Brotherhood, until obedience was absolute. Here"-he waved at the sanctum around them-"we suspect Manshoon means to make us utterly loyal to him, whatever our god's commands."
He spread his hands in a gesture of resignation, and continued. "When Manshoon felt secure enough in his control of the Brotherhood, spellfire would be used to destroy key foes-Elminster of Shadowdale and the Simbul of Aglarond, for example-who often anticipate and ruin our plans."
Fzoul watched the doomed guard flying with frenzied skill, dodging and darting about the ceiling of the chamber. One of the beholder's eyes swiveled around to meet his, and he went on. "Thereafter, spellfire would be used carefully and covertly to remove strong leaders who oppose us-Azoun of Cormyr, Maalthiir of Hillsfar, and the rulers of Mulmaster, CaIaunt, and then Thay. Our
objective would be to advance our own agents to positions of greater influence in these places, to make them more amenable to our causes so we need not destroy or openly conquer them."
The high priest watched the guard swoop right at the eye tyrant, kicking eyestalks aside, then dart around behind its central body, making a desperate dive for the door.
"Experimentation with spellfire, to make it something we can preserve with breeding or nurture with training, would then follow," Fzoul added, as the guard plunged at the open doorway. At the last instant, the man swept his hands back to his sides and closed his eyes.
The snap of his breaking neck was softer and duller than either the priest or the beholder had expected. Silently the eye tyrant used its powers to raise the corpse to its waiting mouth, cheated of its sport again.
It idly rolled the lifeless guard over and over in midair as it spoke. "Will you take a direct hand in trying to seize spellfire now from this Shandril?"
"Not willingly," Fzoul replied. "I fear Manshoon has come to view this battle as a personal one after Shandril slew a lover of his-Symgharyl Maruel, the sorceress known as the Shadowsil-and sent him fleeing from battle. In that flight, he lost his favorite dragon steed, one long bonded to him and of unquestioned loyalty, and had to fight his way through baatezu to get out of the ruins of Myth Drannor. He will attack in person if he gets an excuse."
"I asked what the high priest would do, not how he expects Manshoon to behave," the eye tyrant observed coldly.
Fzoul answered it with a wintry smile-and the words, "I have learned the benefits of waiting until the bat?tlehungry and the foolish have worn a foe down, and then
stepping in at the end. An open attack on Shandril would not be prudent, for the Brotherhood or for myself; if I fight her, it must be another way."
"We think so, too," Xarlraun replied. "And because of this, we have chosen to support you, Fzoul, over Manshoon. You seem wise enough not to act against him, or reveal our part, openly-for in a struggle between you two, both you and the wizard would be destroyed; the only question would be whether you would succeed in taking Manshoon down with you."
The beholders jaws opened, and swallowed the temple guard whole. Fzoul inclined his head in a nod of agreement, and then waited for the crunching sounds to subside.
When they did, the beholder went on as if there had been no interruption. "You wondered as to my sources earlier. Most important among them is a creature Manshoon thinks he controls absolutely-a lich lord known as Iliph Thraun. He is mistaken; you now control it absolutely-with this."