In Vilnius the man-monster with the steel eyes decided that, when his rule extended from the icy shores of the north to the hot heart of Arabia, he would see to stamping out the production and use of certain drugs. Yes, they had been useful. Chernobog had found it far easier to deal with mazed minds that wanted to believe they had seen paradise and dealt with their god. But right now, when he needed to either organize a pursuit or punish his servant, the tarkhan Borshar was too full of the narcotic to be completely coherent.
They'd been right inside his mouth… and somehow the valuable prizes and the conflict their death would stir up had slipped away from the sharp teeth that had waited to rend them. That would still happen, but not in the time and place of his choosing, which angered him.
To add to his fury, one of his sailcloth manufactories had caught fire. And the news Chernobog could glean from Venice-where the monster dared not venture, not even in spirit-and other points of the Mediterranean, was that the west was readying itself for a spring attack on Constantinople. The city should hold, even if the Venetians had somehow managed to work out a way to fire massive forty eight pound bombards from the decks of their vessels without sinking them.
Alexis must be warned of that. The Byzantine Emperor should concentrate his guns on the seaward walls, to keep the enemy ships out of range. That was if Alexis could be kept from alternating between his depravities and total panic. He was a weak reed, but at least it that meant that he was corruptible and malleable.
Chernobog turned his questing mind across the distances to his newfound disciples and their demands for visions of paradise and translucent virgins, and investigated the state of the Ilkhan and his agents' penetration and readiness. He found them a worried group. The overlords had at last deigned to notice their activities. Nothing had been done, yet. The Ilkhan Hotai the Ineffable was a large, lethargic man, but that was not true of all of his generals. Some of them were definitely looking at Alamut. The Baitini cult were nervous and looking for reassurance. Tiresome as it was, Chernobog wou, d give them that reassurance. After all, so long as the Ilkhan were in a state of chaos and civil war they would be too busy to interfere with the other plans that the Black Brain had.
He wondered just when his new shaman would be here. The delay was becoming insupportable. It was far better that the shaman risked his life in the dangers of the spirit world than for Chernobog to assume that risk himself. He wondered what his enemy beyond the Carpathians was up to. As usual, her demonic assistants defended that area from his view, as the church shielded Rome, and the Servants of the Holy Trinity shielded the Holy Roman Empire.
In realms far removed from this physical world, but yet with ties to it, Chernobog was aware of the powerful and ancient wild magic stirring in the Carpathians themselves. Mountains have deep roots, some into planes beyond most human ken.
He hoped that Elizabeth was stupid enough to meddle with mountain-power. It might be a match for the host of lesser demons that protected her. Her master, like Chernobog, would never risk that close an encounter. If Elizabeth dared to meddle, she might find herself abandoned.
In his chambers in Elizabeth's castle, Count Mindaug was entertaining similar thoughts. There were certain places in the world that the wiser sort of magic-users avoided. Corfu was one of them-as King Emeric had learned, not so long ago.
The Carpathians were another. These mountains had their own ancient forces, which it was best not to meddle with.
All the more so, because it was inherent in such old and pagan powers that their geographic scope was limited. On their own terrain, they could be fearsome. But only on that terrain. In their very nature, those forces could not extend their sway beyond their limited realm.
Mindaug was not at all happy to be in Elizabeth's castle in the northern stretches of the Carpathians. But at least, unlike the countess, he was not attempting to meddle personally in those mountains. He thought she was quite mad to be doing so. Of course, she was quite mad to begin with.
He pulled another book down from the shelves. Far better to explore such dangers in print, from a suitable distance.