A tall, slender, darkly handsome man sat alone at the head of a long, polished table, his fingers clasped together under his chin. He was thinking, behind the faint half smile on his face that betrayed nothing.
In order to truly rule Zhentil Keep—not just lord it over the council—it would be necessary to break the power of the richest and most inf luential city merchants. Not to mention the hired wizards working for them.
The nobles he had already conquered, or could destroy at will. He just needed them to refrain from mustering arms against him and banding together while he dealt with the merchants.
The waylords. The sixteen men who could sway or cow all the other merchants and shopkeepers of the keep. Sixteen citizens who could quietly bring armies into the city without having to fight past the city walls or disembark at the docks. They threatened the rule of anyone who sat on a throne in Zhentil Keep by their very existence. So they must die, and soon.
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About the Author
Ed Greenwood is the man who unleashed the Forgotten Realms on an unsuspecting world. He works in libraries, writes fantasy, science fiction, horror, mystery, and even romance stories (sometimes all in the same novel), but he is still happiest churning out Realmslore, Realmslore, and more Realmslore. There are still a few rooms in his house with space left to pile up papers in . . .