Yet he put off seeking it to continue pondering, not wanting to lose his quickening path of thought.

The Obarskyrs and their bootlicking Wizards of War worked tirelessly to rein in and frustrate the powers of all nobles. Everyone knew that.

Most nobles considered that reason enough to justify any amount of treason against the Dragon Throne, and Rhallogant Caladanter was proud to count himself among their number.

Getting caught meant an unpleasant death. Short of such cap-tute, anything done to frustrate the decadent royals and the lawlessly skulking mages who served the tyrant Vangerdahast-the true ruler of Cormyr-could only be a service to the realm and all Cormyreans henceforth. long after Vangerdahast had been shamed and executed, the philandering King Azoun and his icy queen swept into "accidental" graves, and their two wayward daughters married off to nobles fit to lead the Forest Kingdom, Rhallogant Caladanter had every intention of happily standing among those "all Cormyreans henceforth." With gold coins bulging in his coffers and the good regard of fair ladies all across Suzail.

A little treason was a small price to pay for such a bright life in a brighter realm.

Few even among the nobility knew who he was, yet. The son of a minor upland noble, Rhallogant was young and only recently ascended to his title-and hadn't intended to be anything more than a wild young blade, enjoying the amusements of Sembia and perhaps Westgate or even fabled Waterdeep, for years yet. His father's trusty Firelord had changed all that early one morning; the war-horse had thrown Lord Caladanter and then had fallen and rolled on his longtime master.

Rhallogant intended to be a trifle more subtle than Fire-lord had been. For a long time he'd idly contemplated treason against the Dragon Throne-but like most young highborn schemers, he had done nothing but contemplate and talk over his contemplations with other nobles of like age and opinions, over copious fine wine.