Free Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 1 - Anubis Murders by Gary Gygax Page A

Behon brought forth a short wand and began an almost silent casting which magickally barred the portals. That act was then followed by a spell of privacy, so that the entire salon was warded against any sort of eavesdropping or observation, whether by some normal means or through magickal ones such as clairaudience, clairvoyance, or scrying of any sort with mirror, bowl, or crystal ball. As that formula was completed, a thick layer of soot-hued fog furled into the room. Its ebony cloud covered walls, ceiling, and floor, but left the six in a clear and unclouded space as if they were in the eye of a storm. Setne was quite surprised, for such was a most unusual precaution considering the other two which had been taken. It was obvious the royal prince trusted not even the stone walls of his palace.
    Both the bard and the druid were sitting on the edge of their chairs as Prince Llewyn reached into his short robe and drew forth an object. "This is the only clue we have as to the Master of Jackals," he said slowly, with the object hidden in his grasp. "Tell me, Magister Inhetep, have you ever seen anything like this before?" The prince's fingers uncurled, and there in his palm Llewyn held an obsidian figurine of the ^Egyptian god, Anubis!
    Rachelle gasped. Setne remained expressionless, even as something more disconcerting occurred. As Prince Llewyn displayed the figurine of black stone, its tiny eyes of inset ruby seemed to catch fire and grow larger. Twin beams of hot crimson light shot forth to a point just above the table. As if in a spotlight, there appeared a figure—a man robed in red and wearing a jackal mask, which covered the whole of his head. The magickally projected figure spoke, the voice coming as a soft whisper in the ear of each person: "King Glydel, you are my slave," the hissing voice said with mockery and self-assurance. "There is no need for me to inform you of my powers, to relate the fate of the spaewife Olga or a fool who was once called Karl. You already have knowledge of them, and the others too, who failed to pay tribute as my slaves."
    "This is incredible!" Rachelle said loudly, her face hard with anger.
    Inhetep touched her gently on the arm. "Yes, but let us listen," he said without taking his eyes from the projection.
    "Listen well, or else I will strike down your most trusted servants, your sons, even you." The image seemed to mushroom as the perspective changed to show a close-up of the person's head. It was impossible to tell whether the speaker portrait was male or female, for the whisper and the mask precluded such knowledge. Besides, magick could easily alter perceptions. The un-moving lips of the black-and-gold mask, red eyes glittering as if alive, and sharp fangs which gave the impression of snarling attack and sneering mockery all at once, were the focus as the Master of Jackals spoke again.
    "You or your son, Prince Llewyn, will be attending the Annual Council of the Five Crowns held after Beltaine. While there, you will announce to the others that you now recognize Set as the Great Lord of Lyonnesse, and that they too must do so. If any balk, inform them that the armed might of your kingdom will come down upon them.
    "You must meanwhile pay tribute to Set and to Lord Anubis. One thousand of your golden griananas are to be packed in a stout bronze chest, one just large enough to hold the coins, no bigger. That chest you will have taken by ship to the middle of the Hybernian Sea and dropped overboard. If you do not comply with this small demand, I will strike down your Gwyddorr." Setne shifted his eyes from the archdruid to see Aldriss' face. The bard was pale and shaken, for he was the Gwyddorr, so styled in official Lyonnesse. The phantom figure continued. "Then you will pay twice the tribute I now require of you, slave. You have until sun's ebb to bow to my will. Then the druid dies. Each week of delay thereafter will bring fell death to another of your council—nobles, priests, or