Chapter 23

The revelry was reaching a crescendo. One wizard cleared a section of the table by pushing plates of food off of it while two others grabbed a witch and threw her onto the table. The witch eagerly tore off her robes and let the wizards have at her. The scene, or variations thereof, was replicated in other parts of the hall with some of the witches being the aggressors.

Azarel and Uxzel were in a corner of the hall, restricting themselves from participating, concentrating on successfully completing their mission. "Is she ready?" the frail wizard questioned Uxzel.

The black man nodded gravely. "She has consumed enough of the laced mead to make her most compliant."

"Her memory?" asked Azarel.

This time Uxzel shook his head. "She will have no recollection."

"Good. Have the others bring her. The room is ready." Azarel disappeared down a hallway and Uxzel signaled two other wizards in an opposite corner of the hall. The wizards, the white robes Zomyel and Beleghor, made their way to a white robed witch who sat by herself, caressing a nearly empty goblet of mead. She looked up with bleary brown eyes and offered the two wizards a faint smile.

"Come with us, sister," Zomyel said. He took her by one hand and Beleghor went to take the other. But the witch would not relinquish the goblet. Beleghor was about to force it out of her hand when Zomyel shook his head. "Take her by the arm." The two wizards walked with the witch to a certain spot in the hall and stood adjacent to the wall until they were certain they were not being observed. Then Zomyel spoke a Word, pushed the wall inward, and entered, followed by the witch and Beleghor.