Platters and cups of hot delicacies steamed on a table draped in glossy black cloth. Places had been set with fire-glazed scarlet plates, crudely handsome, twisted clear glass goblets, and utensils of silver and black enamel.
Hazar dismissed the guard and ordered the Ajaj to serve the meal. By long custom Gogol lords preferred the service of the Grays to that of humans. Being viewed as a cowardly and downtrodden race, the Ajaj presented less of a physical danger to their masters than a possibly traitorous or high-spirited human servant.
Secondly, the Ajaj by their very natures were deft and so judged less likely to spill hot soup in their masters' laps. Further, should such an unfortunate event occur a human servant might create an unseemly display, while an Ajaj would meekly endure his fate. Should the crime be severe enough to require the ultimate penalty, the Ajaj's cured pelt would provide a minor recompense for the inconvenience.
Castor noted with satisfaction that Hazar seemed to be in fine appetite, demanding large portions of almost every dish, including the tainted stuffing. Mara commanded smaller portions which she sampled sparingly, except for the stuffing, which she tasted not at all.
During the meal Hazar waxed expansively upon his plans for conquest. The more he spoke, the more Hazar's hunger seemed to be satisfied by the emotions to which he now gave full vent. Ten minutes after filling Hazar's plate Castor noted that the Gogol had eaten only a few bites. The stuffing had been left almost untouched.
"More wine-our cups are dry. More wine!" Castor scuttled forward. "Zaco's clerk brought word today that my stones are almost ready," Hazar told Mara, "an announcement for which I suspect you are in large part responsible. In that you have done well."
"Thank you, my lord. I have done my best."
"Not always, not always. You made a serious error in failing to follow my instructions concerning Greyhorn's courier, but in light of your recent success I am disposed to overlook that incident. It is of little importance now anyway."
"Thank you, my lord. You believe, then, that the wizard Greyhorn will remain loyal to your plan?"
"Nonsense. Trust no one. No, I have solved the problem in a different way entirely. With Greyhorn out of the way his assistant Maurita will take command of his associates. Of her loyalty, for the time being at least, I am assured. In any event there will be no one in that portion of the Hartford lands to oppose me."
"My lord's magic is great to overcome Greyhorn in spite of the ring he possesses."
"The ring he does not possess. You don't know how sadly your mission went awry, do you, Mara? There is no harm now in telling you. It was indeed Greyhorn's nephew to whom you delivered the ring."
"But he put it on…"
"Exactly. He put it on his finger and then couldn't get it off. His noble uncle should have chopped the digit off, but he botched the job. The lad escaped. Greyhorn has no more than his ordinary powers with which to oppose me, and he dare not denounce the scheme for fear of implicating himself. I will bring him here tonight and under rigorous interrogation extract what advantage I can for the coming battles against the Hartfords."
"But what about the nephew with the ring? Could he not turn its powers against you? Where is he now?"
"That is where you come in, my dear. That is the marvelous humor of this whole series of events. You did your job better than either of us realized. You enchanted young master Grantin without even realizing it."