MALLOS
Mallos shot Tristan a look which plainly said I’m not bailing you out of this one, but it morphed into a somewhat more concerned expression when his grandson stood and he saw what Arthur had seen – the stain of blood. He stood up too, lightly took hold of Tristan’s shoulder and looked him in the eye.
“We’ve got it covered,” he reassured him. “But we need you to do something which may be more difficult than it sounds.” He paused for a moment to study the prince’s face, ensuring he had his full attention. “Thoth is more likely to confide in you than either of us. If he does express an interest in going to Earth, try to change the subject. Someone acting under the influence of hypnosis generally has a one-track mind, and will persistently keep returning to the subject despite attempts to get them to talk about something else. He may also be dismissive of the dangers or of any logical arguments you may present for why he should not go, and if you ask when he first started wanting to go to Earth, or why, he may be vague or forgetful with his answer. If you see any of these symptoms, or if he starts speaking or behaving out of character in any way, you must come and tell your father immediately - no matter what. Even if you promised Thoth you’d keep it a secret. Do you understand?”
He glanced briefly at Arthur, trusting in the king to pass the same message on to Nimueh and anyone else Thoth might have close contact with. He could have a word with Poppy himself; her magical knowledge was reasonable, but it was unlikely she would have been taught how to recognise symptoms of hypnosis. Once Tristan had confirmed that he understood, Mallos gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and magically returned him to his bedroom to save him having to negotiate the flights of stairs with his injury. Waiting on the prince’s bed for him would be a pair of sleeping Perro de Pastor Vasco - or Basque Shepherd Dog – puppies, only about ten weeks old. That should prevent him from tearing off to find Thoth.
Having sent Tristan away, Mallos sits back in his chair, pulls a sketchpad and a pencil out of nowhere and starts roughly outlining Lady Dahshoor’s face. He could do as Arthur had suggested, and create a 2-dimensional image using magic and his own memories, but that wasn’t nearly as much fun. While he sketched, he answered the king’s question regarding what to do about the hypnotists.
“Three practical suggestions, none of which you’ll like,” he put forward grimly. “One, you ban Thoth from leaving the castle and vet who walks through the doors. Not ideal, he’s not likely to obey an order like that. Two, I can set up a magical forcefield over the castle grounds which controls who leaves and who enters. I can stop Thoth from being able to leave the grounds, and I can ensure that nobody with ill intensions towards him – or nobody with hypnotic or persuasive powers – can enter. I doubt he’ll like that either, but at least he’ll have the run of the gardens.” He paused, frowning at the image which was just starting to take shape. The nose was wrong. Mallos had no need for erasers; he flicked the hand holding the pencil lightly and the offending lines withered away into nothing. “Three, preventative hypnosis. I hypnotise him before anyone else can.” He glanced up and met Arthur’s eyes. “That’s not as immoral as it sounds. With his permission, I can put an overriding desire to stay here into his psyche – which I can remove at a later date – and it will counter any attempt by anyone else to hypnotise him into wanting to leave. I’m the best,” he added immodestly, “nobody’s going to get past anything I put in place. But I can’t do it unless he agrees to it.”
He pencilled in a few extra strokes and checked the portrait before handing it over to Arthur. The monochromatic sketch was little different to the three-dimensional image which had appeared in the room only moments before, but it was somewhat more characterful and clearly not intended to be hyper-realistic – hinting to Mallos being naturally artistically inclined. The ever so slightly exaggerated features, which managed to perfectly capture the woman’s intense stare and smug expression, reflected on an interest in cartoonism while not exhibiting it outright. The portrait was noticeably livelier than the memory-image, too.
“At this point we should also consider,” Mallos added, steepling his fingers and giving Arthur a pointed look, “that Thoth might not be the only target.”
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