The Second Book of Lankhmar

Glipkerio responded with agonizing agitation. “It's twelve , you say? But that can't be. It's not yet three!—surely?”
    “Oh wisest and most patient one, master of time and the waters of space,” Hisvin howled obsequiously, a-tiptoe. Then he dug his nails into Glipkerio's arm and said slowly, marking each word, “I said that tonight's the night. My demonic intelligencers assure me the rats plan to hold off this evening, to lull the city's wariness, then make a grand assault at midnight. To make sure they're all in the streets and stay there while I recite my noxious spell from this palace's tallest minaret, you must an hour beforehand order all soldiers to the South Barracks and your constables too. Tell Captain General Olegnya you wish him to deliver them a morale-building address—the old fool won't be able to resist that bait. Do ... you ... understand ... me ... my ... overlord?”
    “Yes, yes, oh yes!” Glipkerio babbled eagerly, grimacing at the pain of Hisvin's grip, yet not angered but thinking only of getting loose. “Eleven o'clock tonight ... all soldiers and constables off streets ... oration by Olegnya. And now, please, Hisvin, I must rush me to—”
    “—to see a maid thrashed,” Hisvin finished for him flatly. Again the fingernails dug. “Expect me infallibly at a quarter to midnight in your Blue Audience Chamber, whence I shall climb the Blue Minaret to speak my spell. You yourself must be there—and with a corps of your pages to carry a message of reassurance to your people. See that they are provided with wands of authority. I will bring my daughter and her maid to mollify you—and also a company of my Mingol slaves to supplement your pages if need be. There'd best be wands for them too. Also—”
    “Yes, yes, dear Hisvin,” Glipkerio cut in, his babbling growing desperate. “I'm very grateful ... Frix and Hisvet, they're good ones ... I'll remember all ... quarter to midnight ... Blue Chamber ... pages ... wands ... wands for Mingols. And now I must rush me—”
    “ Also ,” Hisvin continued implacably, his fingernails like a spiked trap. “ Beware of the Gray Mouser! Set your guards on the watch for him! And now ... be off to your flagellatory pastimes,” he added brightly, loosing his horny nails from Glipkerio's arm.
    Massaging the dents they'd made, hardly yet realizing he was free, Glipkerio babbled on, “Ah yes, the Mouser—bad, bad! But the rest ... good, good! Enormous thanks, Hisvin! And now I must rush me—” And he turned away with a lunging, improbably long step.
    “—to see a maid—” Hisvin couldn't resist repeating.
    As if the words stung him between the shoulders, Glipkerio turned back at that and interrupted with some spirit. “To attend to business of highest importance! I have other secret weapons than yours, old man—and other sorcerors too!” And then he was swift-striding off again, black toga at extremest stretch.
    Cupping bony hand to wrinkled lips, Hisvin cried after him sweetly, “I hope your business writhes prettily and screams most soothingly, brave overlord!”
    The Gray Mouser showed his courier's ring to the guards at the opal-tiled land entry of the palace. He half expected it not to work. Hisvin had had two days to poison silly Glip's mind against him, and indeed there were sidewise glances and a wait long enough for the Mouser to feel the full strength of his hangover and to swear he'd never drink so much, so mixed again. And to marvel too at his stupidity and good luck in venturing last night into the dark, rat-infested streets and getting back silly-drunk to Nattick's through some of the darkest of them without staggering into a second rat-ambush. Ah well, at least he'd found Sheelba's black vial safe at Nattick's, resisted the impulse to drink it while tipsy, and he'd got that heartening, titillating note from Hisvet. As soon as his business was finished here, he must hie himself straight to Hisvin's house and—
    A guard returned from somewhere and nodded sourly. He was passed inside.
    From the sneer-lipped third butler, who was an old gossip friend of the Mouser, he learned that Lankhmar's overlord was with his Emergency Council, which now included Hisvin. He resisted the grandiose impulse to show off his Sheelban rat-magic before the notables of Lankhmar and in the presence of his chief sorcerous rival, though he did confidently pat the black vial in his pouch. After all, he needed a spot where rats were foregathered