Menion fought down the urge to rush up the steps and cut the evil mystic’s lying tongue out, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm, his gaze riveted on that of the stunned Palance Buckhannah.

“You have been betrayed by this man, Palance,” he continued evenly. “He has poisoned your heart and your mind. He has sapped you of your will to think for yourself. He cares nothing for you, he cares nothing for this land, which he has so cheaply sold to the enemy that has already destroyed Kern.” Stenmin roared in fury, but Menion continued in stoney disregard. “You once said we would be friends, and friends must have trust for each other. Do not be deceived now, or your kingdom will surely be lost.”

At the bottom of the stairway, Balinor and his friends watched silently, afraid that any distraction might break the strange spell Menion Leah was weaving, for Palance was still listening, his clouded mind struggling to break the wall of confusion surrounding it. Slowly he stepped forward on the landing, closing the door quietly behind him and brushing past Stenmin as if he hadn’t seen him. His adviser hesitated in confusion, glancing uncertainly at the cellar door as if debating the wisdom of attempting to flee. But he was not yet prepared to accept defeat, and he whirled quickly, catching Palance by the arm and thrusting his lean face next to the man’s ear.

“Are you mad? Are you as insane as some say, my King?” he whispered venomously. “Will you throw everything away now-give it all back to your brother? Was he meant to be king-or you? This is all a lie! The Prince of Leah is a friend to Allanon.”

Palance turned toward him slightly, his eyes widening.

“Yes, Allanon!” Stenmin knew he had struck a nerve and was determined to pursue it. “Who do you think seized your betrothed from her home in Kern? This man who speaks of friendship was part of the kidnapping-it was all a ruse to get inside the palace and then assassinate you. You were to be killed!”

Below the stairway, Hendel took a step forward, but Balinor put out a restraining hand. Menion stood quietly, knowing that any sudden move now would only confirm Stenmin’s charges. He directed a withering glance at the wily mystic, turning quickly back to Palance and shaking his head.

“He is a traitor. He belongs to the Warlock Lord.”

Palance took several steps down the stairway, glancing briefly at Menion and then staring fixedly at his brother who waited patiently at the foot of the stairs. A faint smile crossed his lips as he paused confusedly.

“What do you think, brother? Am I really… mad? If not me, then… why, it must be everyone else, and I alone am… sane. Say something, Balinor. We should have that talk now… Before… I did want to say something. . .”

But the sentence was left unfinished as he straightened his tall frame and looked back once again at Stenmin, who had taken on the appearance of a dangerously cornered animal, crouched and waiting to attack.