The Wizardwar by Elaine Cunningham Page B

do. He spent most of his time working alone. Potions fascinated him, and he was absorbed with the creation of a spellbook that would ensure the fame of the Exchelsor wizards. Oddly enough, since their wedding he had done nothing else that might establish his lineage and legacy.
    Their first days of marriage, the traditional moon in seclusion, had been a puzzlement to Keturah. By day they had walked on the shore, calling creatures of the sea and watching them splash and play in the cresting waves offshore. She had shown Dhamari the spells for summoning giant squid and teasing from them sprays of sepia that could be captured and used as a component for wizard’s ink. They had spoken with selkies, watched the dolphins at play, but it seemed that they had once again become mistress and apprentice. Dhamari was polite, respectful, detached. He left her at the door to her bedchamber each night and returned to his studies.
    This pattern continued after their return to Halarahh and to Keturah’s tower. Dhamari was unfailingly courteous. They ate together each evening, and he poured exquisite wine from the Exchelsor cellars and engaged her in learned conversation. Their association was not altogether unpleasant, but neither was it a marriage. It was not even a friendship, and Keturah could not bring herself to confide to this stranger her concern over her waning power.
    Keturah watched the starsnake disappear into the sunrise clouds. She hadn’t been able to gather enough magic to get its attention, still less compel its will!
    She cloaked herself with magic and with a wrap of flowing silk, then quietly made her way across the city to the home of the greenmage Whendura. There were many such physicians in the city, minor wizards and priests who had studied the magehound’s art as well as divination and herbal lore. The common folk had their midwives and clergy, but a wizard’s health was so bound up in Art that a special set of diverse skills was needed. Whendura was well respected, but her home was far from the fashionable coast, a location deliberately chosen to give clients a sense of privacy and security-or, as much as such things existed in Halruaa.
    Whendura, a small, plump woman who looked as if she ought to be plying grandchildren with honeycakes, met Keturah at the door with a warm smile. She ushered her visitor up two flights of stairs to a small room, chatting cozily as she pounded herbs and mixed them with watered wine. Keturah stripped down to her shift and set aside all her spell bags and charms and wands, so that nothing magical might confuse the greenmage’s tests. She drank the green sludge Whendura offered, then endured a long list of questions and much magical poking and prodding.
    At last Whendura nodded and began to gather up her wands and crystals. “So much magic within you,” she said respectfully. “It is a great gift that you give Halruaa!”
    Keturah frowned. “I don’t understand.”
    The greenmage’s busy hands stilled, and a flash of compassion lit her eyes. “Don’t fret over it,” she all but crooned. “It is often so. The potions can bring confusion.”
    “Potions,” Keturah echoed without comprehension. “Confusion?”
    Whendura gave her a reassuring smile. “It will be different when the babe is born,” she said gently as she continued to gather up her tools. “May Mystra grant,” she added under her breath.
    Keturah realized that she was gaping like a carp. “Babe? What babe?”
    It was the greenmage’s turn to be astonished. “You are not with child?”
    “No,” she said flatly. “It is not possible.” How could it be, when her “husband” had never once crossed the threshold of her bedchamber?
    “Then why have you come for testing?”
    “I told you,” Keturah said impatiently. “My magic is diminishing in power and reliability. To whom should I come but a greenmage?”
    Pity and comprehension flooded the woman’s face. “It is always so, for a jordain’s dam. Do