Who ARE You?

The woman stood above him as he knelt, her bearing proud but impassive. She wore a simple black gown. Her hair was long and straight, and almost as dark as her dress. In contrast her skin was pale, as if she rarely saw the sun. The nature of the light [16141] lent it a slight bluish tinge. But the only real colour about her was the brown of her eyes, the red of her lips and the green of the gem inset in a ring that she wore on the forefinger of her left hand. She was tall and slim. Fred found it hard to estimate her age; it could be anything from twenty or so to the mid- thirties.

When he had sufficiently regained his breath to speak, he gasped: "Who are you?" He struggled to his feet as he spoke.

"Before I will consent to answer any of your questions, you must apologise for calling me a succubus and for drawing your weapon. I had thought that Allarian noblemen were better bred than that." Her voice was pleasant enough, but there was a chilly edge to it.

Why had Belboz (who continued to look on without intervening) not warned him about this woman? Whoever and whatever she was, it was clear to him now that she was not a succubus. It seemed that she had a power even more deadly. Thus Fred felt that he could with a clear conscience say: "Lady, I apologise for calling you a succubus. I had not expected to come across a woman in a place like this, and leapt to the wrong conclusion. I should not have drawn my weapon."

"Your apology is accepted. As to who I am...

1. "They call me 'Mistress of the Shreken'. Have you heard of me?"
2. "I am the Lady Morgana."
3. "I was once Belboz's apprentice." "But now the apprentice has surpassed the master," Belboz put in.

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