"No more or less trustworthy than a sell-sword," the Lizerene countered. "Everyperson has weaknesses, though some are weaker than others. While a few might beunscrupulous enough to accept double-service at least you can eliminate thedanger from the honest practitioners."
"See that it's done," Jubal instructed Saliman. "There're two other things I'llwant when you return. Find Hakiem and let him accompany you to witness myrecovery-"
"The storyteller? Why?"
"He has amused us with his tales in the past," Jubal smiled, "as well asproviding occasional bits of timely information. Sharing this story with himwill guarantee that all will hear of my return to power."
Saliman frowned but did not protest further. "What else?"
"A sword," Jubal stated, his eyes suddenly fierce. "The finest sword you canfind. Not the prettiest, mind you: the best steel with the keenest edge. Therewill some who will be less than happy at the news of my recovery and I want tobe prepared to deal with them."
* * *"That's enough for today," Vertan announced shakily, removing his hands fromJubal's knees.
Like a drowning man encountering a log, the healer grabbed the goat tetherednearby and clung to it while the animal bleated and struggled to free itself.The slaver averted his eyes, nauseated by the now-familiar ritual.
The first day he had watched intently and what he had seen was now branded intohis memory. Though he had always loathed magic and its practitioners he nowadmitted a grudging admiration of the little wizard who labored over him. Hewould rather face a hundred swords than subject himself to what the Lizereneendured voluntarily.
Vertan drew the poison from Jubal's legs as promised, but what the ex-gladiator