"But it's not good to have him and his friends sitting idle while the rest of my people are sweating through their exercises."

  "I see your point, but the fact remains that he happens to be very good at his work and entitled to do whatever he pleases when not actively on a mission for me. If your people have a problem with that, you can inform them that should they exhibit a similar aptitude of expertise, then they may be allowed to sit out the drills themselves."

  Her mouth twitched but she offered no further argument. I had the idea that her animosity toward Darl might be on a personal level. He wasn't a particularly handsome man, but was one of those who possessed the inborn faculty to draw the attention of most women.

  Even Yersinia had felt his charm, and I knew her to be a most steady and level-headed lady. She had once told me that Darl was "perilous" and seemed to think that perfectly summed him up.

  Though I couldn't see the peril myself, I could understand its consequence and accordingly took advantage of it when appropriate. His last disguised foray into Darkon required that he gain access into the house of one of Azalin's highest ranking nobles. Darl's method involved the seduction of the noble's wife, and—in all aspects—he had performed flawlessly, even returning with the needed information ahead of schedule. As there had been no executions in the family, it was to be assumed Azalin (and the lady's spouse) still did not know of the breach in his defenses.

  Darl's success had in turn altered my immediate plans, for the intelligence he'd brought back was no less than Azalin's invasion timetable.

  I had already discovered broad clues of it by observing the massive build-up of his troops along the whole of our common border. For the last month the small raids made by his zombies had trailed off and finally ceased altogether. My inner core of commanders and I knew the first—and likely final—battle was coming, but not precisely when.

  Darl changed that. The next dark cycle of the summer moon would bring them, and it was just a few nights away. It was time to get very, very clever.

  I ordered Commander Resvalan to call up the volunteer squads and went outside to inspect them. They were a motley-looking group. Barovia's resources were such that there was little coin to spare for niceties like matching uniforms. Those were reserved for the senior commanders who could afford the tailor work. All my people did wear cloth arm bands with my colors so that in the heat of battle they would not mistakenly attack their own. Beyond that they were in whatever conglomeration of gear they could assemble for themselves. Without exception they were very well-armed. That was one detail I did not dare stint on; the smithies were at work night and day. All those in this particular assembly were excellent fighters, some even skilled with minor magic spells, imaginative, resourceful—and unencumbered by families.

  They dutifully exchanged their armbands for neck kerchiefs bearing Azalin's colors. As with me, only his top people had uniforms. He could afford the expense, but just didn't care to bother with it. As far as Resvalan knew, this foray was no different than any other I had planned, except on a larger scale than past efforts. She had chosen people who had previously worked well together—with the exception of Darl's band of civilians who worked with none but themselves. I had them called out, and one by one they sauntered up to stand in an informal line with the others, two women and three men. Darl came last, wearing the disgruntled face of a man who had just been roused from a nap.

  I looked everyone over, gave a curt nod, and had the first lot of volunteers—a half dozen— file into the commander's office for a final briefing. Leaving the commander and a most unhappy Aldrick outside, I went in to give my last orders in private. At the same time I hypnotically reconfirmed the truth of their loyalty and reinforced their commitment to the successful completion of their mission. When they awoke, I told them that they were the honored few of Barovia and to serve to the best of their ability (at thrice the normal pay), then opened the box and passed out such small magical items as they might find useful on their mission—like the necklaces to prevent them from being scryed upon. Included were two magical scrolls for the traveling spell, one to get them there and one for a return. They were preparing for a deep penetration sortie to Il Aluk and couldn't waste the next few days trying to ride there.

  This procedure I repeated twice more. The third and largest group of two dozen retained their Barovian armbands, for I had a slightly different mission for them across the border.

  Then I called for Darl's lot. In the yard Aldrick shifted a few times on his feet to get my attention, obviously thinking that if anyone tried to assassinate me it would be now, for he had no trust in my irregulars. I ignored him and got on with the briefing.

  This lot varied from the others in its lack of formality and the frank discussion of money. Darl's five worked on a job-to-job basis, and if they didn't care for the level of risk compared to the level of pay, they didn't accept the assignment.

  At the bottom of the box was a velvet bag bulging with gold, accounting for most of its weight. I opened the drawstring and let the coins spill out on the table. The gold caught the candlelight and winked alluringly.

  Darl's stern face relaxed into an expression of pure pleasure at the sight. He was very fond of money, but sensible in his greed. "What's the catch?" he asked after a moment.

  "I shan't lie; this one is very dangerous. It makes the past ones seem like jaunts to pick wildflowers."

  They looked at each other, but their curiosity was up. They wouldn't leave before finding out what I had in mind. I smoothed my hand over the pile of gold. It represented lifetime retirement in luxury for the six people before me. They all knew it.

  "I'm listening," said Darl.

  I nodded, looking at them all carefully. "I want you to kidnap General Vychen."

  That brought forth an instant reaction of disbelief. Vychen was Azalin's first commander, and next in line to the throne of Darkon itself should the unlikely happen and Azalin be destroyed. He was also the secret leader of the Kargat, making him the second most dangerous man in Darkon.

  Darl snorted. "Why stop there? Why not have us kidnap Azalin himself?"

  "I am only asking you to do the difficult, not the impossible."

  "This is impossible," stated a nervous, wide-eyed balding fellow with a penchant for picking locks.

  "Give his lordship a chance to finish, Alvi," said Ag'n, a large, gentle-looking man, whose only superior with a blade was Darl. "I'm sure he wouldn't send us in unless we had a chance to succeed."

  "You're too trusting, you are." But Alvi subsided. Now that the first shock had passed his gaze arrested on the gold.

  "One would hope we would have a chance," said Darl. "Why kidnap him? Killing him would be less of a risk to us."

  "I have a use for him while he lives, something far more important than his death."

  "I should think his death would be very useful to our side," put in Cylla, a slender, sharp-featured woman with curly auburn hair. She had certain gifts for sensing the thoughts of others and was an efficient archer.

  "You need not worry about that part of things. What I want to know is whether or not you're willing to take the job?" I could hypnotize them into it, but though such was convenient for me, it was also no true substitute for actual enthusiasm for a task.

  "I'm willing," said the other woman, Nanje, a soft-looking, fair haired beauty, who was very skilled with knives. "But before we finally accept, we need to know how it's possible for us to even get close to him."

  "You shouldn't have any problem doing so. I've made a thorough study of the general's habits and they include a liking for comely young women. Either of you may serve as bait." I meant this in the literal sense, for Vychen's lethal appetite for blood was identical to my own. Unlike me, he had little practice at self-control, so his dalliances tended to be of very short duration.

  Both ladies snorted contempt for the general's weakness.

  "Do not underestimate him, for his is not an ordinary proclivity. It is well known among his officers that the women he fancies tend to disappear or turn up dead—or worse."

  "What's worse than dead?" piped Alvi. "Oh—never mind, I shouldn't like to know."

  And they would not know from me. If I told them about Vychen's true nature they would have sensibly turned heel and walked out the door no matter how much gold was offered.

  The last one in the group, Kelab, a large man with a long face, now spoke. "What's your plan, Lord Strahd?" He was second-in-command to Darl. The two often discussed at length (and rather loudly) the desirability of any given job, but he often deferred to Darl's decision.

  I now told them, leaving out one small, but highly important point, which I held in reserve for Darl. By the time I'd finished, they were willing to make the raid.

  Briefing completed, I swept the gold back into the velvet bag and said they could collect the lot—if they survived the night. Alvi made an unhappy moaning sound, which amused Cylla and Nanje. They all left to get prepared except for Darl; I discreetly signaled that he should stay behind. I nodded permission for him to take the chair opposite me across the desk.

  "Yes, Lord Strahd?" he asked, easing into place and with a raised eyebrow somehow managing to affect a combination of inquisitiveness and boredom.

  There was something about his manner that reminded me of myself as I'd been some centuries ago when I had walked under the sun. He was also stubborn and strong-willed—for a normal man. That was why I had chosen him for this particular challenge.

  "I have a special… request to ask of you," I said, choosing my words with care. His vast esteem of himself amused me, thus my apparent show of favor. This was comparable to a cat playing with a bird that thought rather highly of itself.

  "What request might that be, my lord?"

  "For you to wear this as an addition to your equipment." From the box I took out a strip of leather with a flat gold disk attached to it, a cloudy white stone affixed to its center.

  He studied the item without reaching for it, having the intelligence to be wary of magic. He wasn't versed in the Art, but I'd heard that he could sense its presence. "What is its purpose?"

  "To allow me to observe from afar your progress. You tie it around your brows so that the stone is centered upon your forehead. Through it I can see what you would see, hear what you would hear."

  "Interesting. Does this mean you've lost trust in my loyalty? That you think I must be watched?"

  "I am well aware that your loyalty is primarily measured by your hatred of Azalin and the coin in my treasury."

  He grinned in response. "I've been honest about that, though."

  "Anything less and your head would be on a pike next to the one out in the yard," I assured him. His grin faded. On such points he knew I never made idle threats. "Your caution is an excellent survival trait, Darl, but misplaced here. All I require is someone to test this for me in the field, and you are the best choice for the job. If all goes well, then I shall find a greater use for it later. Don't bother to ask what that might be, it has to do with war policy."

  He shrugged in acquiescence, knowing better than to express an interest in strategy secrets. "I've no objection then."

  I handed it across the desk and after a moment's examination he slipped the leather strap around his head, tying it firmly in place.

  "Am I supposed to feel something from this?"

  In answer, I focused my gaze hard upon him. The force of it was entirely too much even for his relatively well-disciplined mind. Within a moment I had the bird under my absolute control.

  "Now," I said, drawing forth a small silver flask from the box, "drink this. Drink all of it."

  He did so without hesitation. As the last drops of it went into him, the milky crystal on the disk flared white, then went blood red. His eyes rolled back in their sockets. The flask dropped as his hand began to violently tremble.

  Despite the hold of my hypnosis his whole body gave began a massive shuddering reaction to the potion. Well it should, considering some of the ingredients I had put into it. His limbs twitched until he slipped from the chair to convulse on the bare floor for nearly an entire minute. I watched, rather concerned that I had miscalculated and made the stuff too strong. If so, it would be damned inconvenient; I would have to find someone else for the raid.

  The seizure finally slackened and ceased altogether, and it was with some relief that I noted that he still breathed, though in ragged gasps. He was quite flushed, his heart beating fast, but strongly. He wasn't going to die just yet. Good. Time to initiate my part of the process.

  I took my crystal ball from a well-padded pouch on my sword belt and put it to use. When I had Darl's image clear in its depths (quite easy to do with him right in front of me), I shut my eyes and concentrated.

  A view of the ceiling abruptly came to me, as if I were looking at it through his eyes. It was working.

  I took things down to a deeper level and suffered a bout of extreme disorientation before my mind sorted out the two diverse sets of messages coming to it. One was that I sat calm at the desk, the other that I lay flat on the floor, weary and with the bitter taste of the potion coating my mouth.

  "Get up, Darl," I whispered, holding hard to what he saw and felt.

  He did not respond immediately. I put forth my will, both the hypnotic bond I had established and that which was from the combined effect of the potion and disk. They worked gratifyingly well. His bruised body rolled and pushed itself upright, far more efficiently than a puppet responding to a puppetmaster. Had he been in control of himself he wouldn't have been able to do that so quickly. My experiment was turning out to be far more successful than even I had anticipated.

  Azalin was not the only mage given to the invention of new magic items. In between all of my other projects for the war I had managed to work a major refinement on the crystal amulet which I had employed so very long ago on that hermit from Forlorn. By comparison to this the amulet was a hopelessly crude contrivance. Then I had been able to hold my full control on the man so long as he was in Barovia. Once past the border I was limited to making use of him only with his terrified permission. Most inefficient.

  This variation allowed me a certain level of fusion with Dart's senses as well as control of his will. It provided a way for me to see and even feel through him and manipulate his actions. The advantage for me was a nearly complete comprehension of his surroundings; the advantage for him was having a cooler and vastly more experienced mind directing things. If necessary, this forced influence could drive him beyond his expected limits, hence Darl picking himself up before his body was ready to make the attempt.

  Which was just as well, for I had estimated that the potion would not last too terribly long. A second dose of it right now would kill him, or at the very least damage his brain to the point that he might as well be dead.

  I released him from the hypnosis but held the rest of my control firmly in place, not too difficult so long as I kept my concentration up. His conscious mind was aware of my presence in his head, but he was quite unable to do anything about it.

  Using his body as though it were my own, I had Darl step outside and motion for Aldrick to finally come in. He did so with alacrity. As soon as he was in Darl shut the door behind him.

  "Reciprocity," I said very clearly—but it was Darl who really spoke, giving Aldrick the password we had established before leaving Castle Ravenloft.

  He had known what to expect but still looked with shock on the face of Voan Darl grinning back at him. For most practical purposes it was now my face.

  I spread Darl's arms. "It worked, as you see."

  Aldrick looked from Darl to me where I solidly reposed behind the desk, eyes shut, the crystal ball tight in my hands and safely below his field of view. Seeing myself through another's eyes was something of a shock; except for Illusionary duplicates I had not looked on my face in over two hundred years. I seemed more gaunt than I remembered, pale, the lines of my features just as harsh, the expression just as severe. Little wonder folk jumped at my least word.

  "My lord?" Aldrick was understandably confused.

  "I'm here, too," I whispered, this time speaking with my own mouth. I kept my eyes closed, for this required a lot of effort and I was loath to risk breaking the precious link I had established with Darl. "This man will do as I wish, be my weapon against Darkon, be my eyes and ears and hands there."

  Aldrick gave in to a most unhappy frown. "This is much too dangerous for you." He was quite correct, for I was quite vulnerable with so large a portion of my attention on controlling Darl. If Azalin had any assassins in the camp, they would have a better chance to kill me while I was in this distracted state.

  I answered, using Darl. It was simply easier. "Then you will stand vigilant and see to it that no one disturbs me until I'm finished. The discussion is ended. Now let us proceed, I have little time."

  He almost looked ready to offer an argument but wisely swallowed it and gave Darl the heavy leather pouch he carried. Out of habit rather than lack of trust in him I opened it to check on the contents. Everything was in place.

  "Excellent." I glanced up, Darl fixing a hard gaze upon Aldrick. "No interruptions whatsoever, commander. All Barovia depends upon it."

  He was white to the lips. "I swear by my life, my lord."

  No truer words had he ever spoken.

  Darl slipped the bag's strap over his shoulder and walked out of the small building, nearly bumping into the camp commander who was—against orders— apparently on her way in.

  Resvalan backed off, showing her teeth, and it was not a smile. "You—"

  I had Darl raise an eyebrow, one of his pet expressions. "What?"

  Her gaze fairly burned through us. "Don't get yourself killed."

  I gave her one of Darl's brief grins. "I'll try not to… for your sake."

  "Damn you, Voan." She gave a quick look around, saw that no one was near, then clamped her hands on either side of our face and hauled us close for a fast, hard kiss. From my chair in the office I noted that this was quite a pleasant sensation to enjoy without having to worry about quelling hunger. Darl did not have to deal with my particular appetites, after all. The feelings coming to me from him about what was happening were most delightful, indeed. Resvalan released us, then walked hurriedly away.