"We do not fear upstart mages," one said with a practiced sneer. "Our sires and our grandsires smashed such foes. Why should we quail? The least of our guards can destroy these Zhentarim."

"Aye," another rumbled amid murmurs of agreement. "Let the graybeards in council yap and snap all the day long! I see naught to threaten Zhentil Keep or to prevent our coins piling up. The council responds whenever those dolts in Mulmaster dare another challenge, or a Thayan wizard deludes himself into thinking he's mighty enough to rule us. On most days, the council simply keeps our fathers and the rest of the dotards busy — and keeps their noses out of our affairs!"

"And just how many affairs have you had, Thaerun?" one noble asked slyly.

"Aye, this tenday?" someone added through the general mirth.

Chess frowned. "Have you no care for the snakes in our midst? Agents of Thay, of the Dragon Cult- even of Sembia and Calimshan- are unmasked every month! Their dagger points are always closer than you credit."

"Ah," Thaerun said, leaning forward to tap the table in triumphant emphasis. 'That's the point, Chess. They are unmasked — by the watchful wizards Manshoon commands, and by Fzoul's tame priests. That's why we tolerate these haughty longrobes in the first place! They watch our backs so we can get on with the business of getting rich!"

"And wenching," someone murmured.

"Drinking," another added. "What is this chamberpot-spill, anyway, Chess?"

"The finest Mulhorandan vintage," Chess said dryly. "Not that you'd recognize it, Naerh."

Naerh spat on the table. "That for your pretensions! My family's as old as yours!"

"And as debauched," Thaerun murmured.