Not a full moon before, everyone had been stunned when Lothain had brought charges of treason against the entire Temple team, the men who had, at the direction of the Central Council, gathered dangerous items of magic together into the Temple of the Winds and then sent it all into the underworld for safekeeping until after the war. The trial had been a sensation. In it, Lothain had revealed that the men had gone far beyond their mission and not only locked away more than they were supposed to, but made it all but impossible to recover.

  In their defense, some of them said that they believed in the Old World’s efforts to save mankind from the tyranny of magic.

  The convictions had ensured that Lothain’s reputation had an edge to it that was as razor-sharp as the axes that had beheaded the hundred convicted wizards of the Temple team.

  In a bold effort to try to undo the damage done by the traitors, Lothain himself had on his own authority then gone beyond the veil, into the underworld itself, to the Temple of the Winds. Everyone feared for him on such a journey. Everyone feared to lose a man of such ability and powers.

  To everyone’s relief, Lothain had returned alive, if shaken by the journey. Unfortunately, the damage done by the Temple team had proven to be greater than even he had suspected, and he had not found a way in, so he had returned without being able to repair the damage done by the Temple team he had convicted.

  Lothain strolled in closer to Magda and gestured, indicating the formality of his preamble.

  “Lady Searus, may I offer my condolences on the unfortunate and untimely death of your husband.”

  One of the council members leaned in. “He was a great man.”

  Lothain’s sidelong glance moved the man back in line with the others.

  “Thank you, Prosecutor Lothain.” She glanced at the councilman who had spoken. “My husband was indeed a great man.”

  Lothain lifted a dark eyebrow. “And why do you suppose that such a great man, a man beloved by his people as well as his alluring young wife, would throw himself over the Keep wall to drop several thousand feet down the side of the mountain to meet his death on the rocks below?”

  Magda kept her voice steady and spoke the simple truth. “I wouldn’t know, Prosecutor. He sent me away for the day on an errand. When I returned, he was dead.”

  “Really,” Lothain said in a drawl as he touched his chin and gazed off in thought. “Are you saying that you suspect that he didn’t wish you to be here, to see the terrible damage a fall from that height to the rocks below would do to him?”

  Magda swallowed. She had been unable to prevent herself from imagining it a thousand times in her mind’s eye. By the time she had returned, people had already seen to having him sealed in a stately coffin.

  That morning, scant hours after she had learned of his death, the ornately carved maple coffin with her husband’s remains had been placed on a funeral pyre on the rampart outside the First Wizard’s enclave. Because his body had been sealed in the coffin, she wasn’t able to look upon his face one last time. She didn’t ask to have it opened. She knew why the coffin was sealed.

  The pyre burned for most of the day as hundreds of solemn people stood silently watching the flames consume their beloved leader, and for many, their last hope.

  Instead of answering such a tasteless question, Magda changed the subject. “May I inquire as to your business here, Prosecutor Lothain?”

  “If you don’t mind, Lady Searus, I will be the one to ask the questions.”

  His tone had an edge to it that took her by surprise.

  Seeing the shocked expression on her face, he offered a brief, insincere smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your grieving, but you see, with the war threatening our very existence, there are matters of pressing concern to all of us that I’m afraid I must ask about. That’s all I meant.”

  Magda was not in the mood to answer questions. She had her own pressing concern. But she knew this man well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave her to her own business until he saw to his.

  She saw no choice but to answer his questions.

  Chapter 3

  Magda smoothed the front of her dress as she gathered her composure. “And what pressing concerns would you need to ask me about?”

  He flicked a finger out toward the shutters. “Well, there is the matter of the moon turning red.” Lothain strolled off a few paces and then turned back. “After I failed to gain access to the Temple of the Winds, others, presumably with abilities more effective for such a specialized undertaking than I, also made the journey. None of them returned.”

  Magda was baffled as to what he was getting at. “They were good men, talented men, valuable men. It was a great loss.”

  Lothain strolled back close to her. His black-eyed gaze glided over items on the table, like the eyes of a vulture looking among bones for scraps. He turned a notebook with a finger to see what was written on the spine before addressing her again.

  “Your husband selected those men.”

  “They were volunteers.”

  He smiled politely. “Yes of course. I meant to say that your husband selected the men who were to go to the Temple and ultimately their death from among a group of volunteers.”

  “My husband was First Wizard.” Her brow tightened. “Who would you expect to select men for such a dangerous mission? The council? You?”

  “No, no, of course not.” He gestured offhandedly. “It was clearly First Wizard Baraccus’s responsibility to select the men who would go.”

  “Then what is your point?”

  He smiled down at her. That smile might have been on his lips, but it was not in his eyes.

  “My point,” Lothain finally said, “is that he selected men who failed.”

  Hard as she could, Magda slapped the man across his face. The six council members gasped as they drew back. Her hand probably stung more than Lothain’s solid face, but she didn’t care. The sound of the slap seemed to hang in the air for a moment before fading.

  Lothain dismissed the slap with a polite bow of his head. “Please accept my apology if it sounded like I was making an accusation.”

  “If it was not an accusation, then what was it?”

  “I am simply trying to get to the truth.”

  “The truth? The truth is,” she growled, “that while you were in the underworld, attempting to gain entrance into the Temple, the moon each night and each night since turned red in a warning, the most serious warning possible from the Temple, that there is some sort of grave trouble—”

  He cut her off, dismissing the issue with a flick of his hand. “The appearance of repeated red moons was probably because of the damage done by the Temple team.”

  “And when you returned, after failing in your attempt to undo that damage, the First Wizard had the terrible duty to select a volunteer to answer the Temple’s nightly call of a red moon. And when the first man failed to return, the First Wizard had to send another, more experienced wizard, and when that one failed to return, he had the grim duty to select yet another, even more skilled man, all of them friends and close associates.

  “I stood beside him at the rampart each night as he stared off at the red moon, inconsolable, as one friend after another failed to return from the underworld. Inconsolable that he had sent valuable men, his friends, men who were husbands and fathers, to their death.

  “Finally, when no one else had succeeded, my husband undertook the journey himself, and in the end paid for it with his life.”

  Lothain let the ringing silence go on for a moment before speaking softly. “Actually, he did not pay for it with his life. He took his own life after returning.”

  Magda glared at him. “What is your point?”

  Lothain tapped his fingertips together for a moment as he studied her wet eyes. “My point, Lady Searus, is that he took his own life before we learned what had happened on his journey to the Temple of the Winds. Perhaps you can tell us?” He cocked his head. “Did he make it in?”

 
“I don’t know,” Magda said. But she did know. Baraccus had told her that he had, and told her a lot more. “I was his wife, not a member of the council or—”

  “Ah,” Lothain said as he tipped his head back. “His young, exquisitely beautiful, but so very ungifted wife. Of course. So obviously a wizard of such great ability would not discuss matters of profound power with someone who had none.”

  Magda swallowed. “That’s right.”

  “You know, I’ve always been curious. Why would . . .” His frown returned as his black eyes again fixed on her. “Well, why would a man of such extraordinary ability, a gifted war wizard, a man whose talents included everything from combat to prophecy, why would a man like that marry a woman who had no ability at all? I mean, other than . . .” He let his gaze wander down her body.

  He was fishing, accusing her of being nothing but a pretty bauble, the shallow possession of a powerful man. Prosecutor Lothain was making the bold charge that she was simply sexual entertainment and nothing more—repeating what contemptible gossip took for granted—in at attempt to get her to admit that she was indeed more, and that she knew more, than would the mere attractive status symbol of an older man.

  Magda didn’t take the bait. She didn’t want to trust this man with anything she knew. Her instincts told her not to tell him what she knew about Baraccus’s journey to the Temple of the Winds.

  She felt tears begin to run down her cheek and drip off her chin.

  “Because he loved me,” she whispered.

  “Ah, yes, of course. Love.”

  Magda was not about to explain her relationship with Baraccus to this man. Prosecutor Lothain was too cynical to begin to understand what she and Baraccus had meant to each other. Lothain saw her the way so many men saw her, as an object of desire, not as a person, the way Baraccus had seen her.

  One of the council members, a man named Sadler, stepped forward, a scowl growing across his sagging, aged features.

  “If you have an important question, then please ask it. Otherwise I think you ought to leave the widow Searus to her grief.”

  “Very well.” Lothain clasped his hands behind his back. “What I would like to know, is if you are aware of any clandestine meetings that First Wizard Baraccus might have had?”

  Magda frowned at the prosecutor. “Clandestine meetings? What do you mean? What clandestine meetings? With whom?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you. Are you aware of any secret meetings he had with the enemy?”

  Magda could feel her face go red with rage. “Get out.”

  Her own voice surprised her with its calm power. He studied her eyes a moment, then turned to leave.

  “I do hope that First Wizard Baraccus was the hero so many think he was,” he said back over his shoulder, “and not involved in a conspiracy.”

  Taking long strides, Magda closed the distance to the man. “Are you accusing my husband of conspiring with the enemy?”

  He turned back at the door and smiled. “Of course not. I merely think it strange that the men Baraccus sent to the Temple of the Winds failed, and that he would then go himself on such a mission when the war burns hot and he is desperately needed here. After all, approaching enemy troops threaten our very existence. It seems a strange priority for him to take, don’t you think?

  “And even more curious, when he returned, he rushed to kill himself before anyone could so much as ask him if he made it into the Temple to repair the damage.”

  He held up a finger. “Oh, but wait. It just occurs to me that with the moon still red, he must not have gotten in or it would have returned to normal while he was still there.” His frown returned. “Or at least, if he did get in, he must not have repaired the damage. After all, had he done so, the red moons would have ceased. Now, as the red moon slowly wanes, apparently even the Temple has given up hope.”

  He was still fishing. Magda said nothing.

  His antagonistic smile returned. “You do see my point, I trust. Treason is an offense that can taint even the dead. And, of course, knowingly aiding a person committing treason is treason as well, and would cost such a person their lovely head.”

  He started away again, but then again turned back.

  “One last thing, Widow Searus. You will make yourself available to answer questions should I deem a formal investigation to be necessary.”

  Magda trembled with rage as she glared at the man’s smile. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer before he finally turned and left.

  Chapter 4

  After watching the door close, Councilman Sadler turned back to Magda. “I must apologize, Lady Searus.”

  “No need for you to apologize.” Magda arched an eyebrow. “Unless you support Lothain’s accusations against my husband?”

  Sadness softened his expression. “Baraccus was a good man. We all miss him. I fear that bitter sorrow over recent events may have clouded Lothain’s better judgment.”

  She glanced at the other five. Hambrook and Clay nodded their agreement. Elder Cadell made no show of his feelings. The gazes of the last two men, Weston and Guymer, dropped away.

  “He did not seem to me to be a man possessed by sorrow,” she said.

  The hunched elder, Cadell, gently touched the back of her shoulder. “There is grave concern in the air, Magda.” His hand left her shoulder to gesture past her and the other councilmen toward the shuttered window overlooking the city of Aydindril. “All of us stand at the brink of annihilation. People are understandably afraid.”

  Councilman Sadler let out a troubled sigh. “Added to that, there is great confusion as to what happened with First Wizard Baraccus. It doesn’t make sense to us, so imagine the rumors and gossip spreading through the Keep, much less down in the city. Everyone expected First Wizard Baraccus to always stand with his people, to defend them, to protect them. Many feel that he instead deserted them. They don’t understand why. Prosecutor Lothain is merely giving voice to suspicion and unease, merely speaking aloud what whispers are saying.”

  Magda lifted her chin. “So you believe that it is proper for Prosecutor Lothain to give voice to gossip? Do you also believe that such talk from anonymous people who know nothing of the true reasons behind events calls for fabricated accusations from the head prosecutor himself and quick beheadings in order to quell gossip and discontent? Is that your position?”

  Councilman Sadler smiled somewhat self-consciously at the way she had framed it. “Not at all, Lady Searus. I am merely suggesting that these are stressful times and perhaps Prosecutor Lothain is feeling those stresses.”

  Magda didn’t relent or shy from his gaze. “Since when do we allow fears and misgivings to guide us? I thought we stood for more. I would think that a head prosecutor, of all people, would only be interested in his duty of seeing the truth brought out.”

  “And maybe that is exactly his purpose,” Elder Cadell said, speaking softly in an attempt to make what was a sharp point sound less harsh and at the same time bring the disagreement and criticism to an end. “It is the rightful duty of the head prosecutor to question. That is how we discover where the truth lies. Beyond that, the man is not here to speak to his reasons for asking the questions he asked, so it is only right that in his absence we in turn not speculate or fabricate accusations of our own.”

  Magda had dealt with Elder Cadell for several years. He was open-minded and fair, but she knew that when he made it clear that he was finished hearing a point of view, he expected it to end there. She turned away to rest a hand on the smooth, rounded edge of the worktable and changed the subject.

  “So what would be the purpose of this visit from the council? Have you all come to discuss some of the matters I have pending before you?”

  There was a long silence. She knew, of course, that that wasn’t the reason they were there. She turned back around to face all the men watching her.

  “Those are matters for another time,” Sadler said.

  “And will I be heard when I return to th
e council chambers at another time? Will the concerns of those I speak for be heard by the council, then, when I am no longer the wife of our First Wizard?”

  Sadler’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “It’s complicated.”

  She leveled a cutting look at the man. “Maybe to you, but not to me.”

  “We have a great many matters before us,” Councilman Weston put in, trying to turn the issue aside.

  “Our immediate concern is the need for a man to replace First Wizard Baraccus,” Elder Cadell said. “The war rages on. Aydindril and the Keep itself could soon be under threat of siege. Those matters require our full attention.”

  “Alric Rahl has also just arrived from the D’Haran Lands,” Sadler said. “That man has turned the Keep upside down with his own urgent demands. He had been hoping to meet with First Wizard Baraccus. Something to do with some rather startling claims and even more startling remedies. With your husband dead, there are an endless variety of urgent problems that must be attended to.”

  “As you can no doubt appreciate,” Councilman Guymer, down at the end of the line, added, “we have any number of pressing issues of rule which require our full attention for now.”

  “Ah.” Magda smiled without humor as she looked at each man in turn. “Pressing issues. Matters of state. Great questions of warfare and rule. You must all be terribly busy with such work. I understand.

  “So you are here, then, about one of these momentous issues? That is what brings you out of council chambers to see me? Vital business of state? Matters of war and peace?”

  To a man, their faces turned red.

  Magda strolled past the line of six. “So how may I help with such important issues that require the council’s full attention? Please tell me what urgent matter of state brings you to me this particular day, the same day we all stood by and prayed that the good spirits would take my departed husband, our leader, our First Wizard, into their gentle arms? Speak up, then. What urgent matter takes you away from your vital work and brings you all up here today?”