Magic in Ithkar Read Free

beauty, the mistress of lords and princes. But that was long ago; as her youth and loveliness faded into legend, she had taken a husband, the aged but immensely wealthy Baron Inkus, whose fragile health had not by long survived their nuptials. It was believed by many, even by most, that it had been a subtle poison and not the inexorable accumulation of his years to which the infatuated and enfeebled Inkus had succumbed. A poison, some whispered, administered by the lady herself.
    No one knew for certain. Save, perchance, for the Lady Ais, who inherited the whole of her husband’s great fortune.
    As her servants erected upon a hilly height her exquisite pavilion of floating and lucent silk, the lady conferred with her fair-agent, Borkis.
    “You are entirely certain that the Mage Ioster has reserved tent-space at the fair?” she purred in silken tones that had, ere this, entranced earls and marquises.
    “Entirely certain, Great Lady,” he replied. “The space he has reserved is thus-and-such,” he added, indicating a position in that area of the grounds traditionally set aside for those who dealt in sorcerous amulets, charms, and periapts.
    “Very good. As soon as my pavilion is ready, I will retire with my serving-woman. I wish not to be disturbed. However, inform me when the Mage Ioster has reached the fairground, and make ready to escort me to his tent.”

    It was not until the morning of the first day of the Fair at Ithkar that the Mage Ioster finally arrived, and the lateness of his coming hence was doubtless to be ascribed to the considerable distance that he must travel from his residence in the fastnesses of the remotest south. Nevertheless, the Lady Ais had endured without any noteworthy patience the interval between her arrival and his own. At her age, the relatively primitive accommodations of her pavilion were to be endured, not enjoyed. Moreover, a woman of her wealth and position likes very little to be kept waiting by anyone.
    One of her palanquin-bearers she had soundly whipped for a fancied impertinence, and she had scratched with cruelly sharp nails the soft breasts of her serving-woman for being a few minutes late with her bathwater.
    As might be imagined, Borkis was greatly relieved when the mage finally made his appearance on the scene. His employer was an imperious woman with a vindictive nature and a vicious temper, and he had not the slightest wish to incur her ire.
    So, when at length her agent informed her that Ioster had erected his tent, the lady wasted little time in securing a private interview. She was, in point of fact, his first customer at the fair.
    A lean man in narrow robes of black and purple, with thoughtful, hooded eyes, he greeted her at the door of his tent and assisted her from her palanquin. No less curious to observe her legendary beauty than had been the workmen, he found her veiled in silks so skillfully arranged as to conceal every inch of her form.
    Ushering her into his tent, he begged her to be seated and asked in what way he might serve her wishes.
    “It has come to my knowledge that you possess the Black Talisman of Zoromé,” she stated. Curious as to how the Lady Ais had procured this information, which was not common knowledge, yet not daring to ask, the mage gravely indicated that this was true.
    “In his epoch, Zoromé was a most distinguished practitioner of the sorcerous arts, in particular of goblinry. The talisman to which you refer entered my collection but recently, by a private transaction.”
    “Explain, if you will, the nature of goblinry, and the precise powers of the Black Talisman,” she ordered. “My agents have told me much concerning both subjects, but I wish to hear of these matters from your own lips.”
    “Zoromé was a famous master of elemental spirits,” said Ioster. “Goblins are earth-elementals and within the sphere of their powers fall such matters as the curing of impotence, the quickening of a barren womb, the restoration of