Elminster Must Die Part 36

Hands were letting go of her in careful haste, though someone was heard to mutter, "She could have all manner of magic-"

"Yes," Storm replied with a smile. "She could, couldn't she? However, highknights and wizards of war of Cormyr, if the Forest Kingdom is anything to be proud of at all, you should dare to treat all women as ladies until you have cause to treat them in any lesser manner-not treat all strangers as dastardly foes until you know better. I I certainly trained highknights, not to mention more than a few young n.o.ble lords, who behave in the more n.o.ble fashion. When did all of certainly trained highknights, not to mention more than a few young n.o.ble lords, who behave in the more n.o.ble fashion. When did all of you you go astray, I wonder?" go astray, I wonder?"

"Lady," Starbridge began slowly, "it is not our intent to antagonize you or offer offense, and I apologize for how matters between us have begun. Is there anything we can do to make amends?"

"Several things," Storm replied with a smile, getting to her feet. Aside from what was left of the robe and jerkin clinging to her shoulders, most of her torn clothing fell away from her, but she seemed not to notice. "Let's begin by telling me plainly what you're doing here. The last time I glanced at a map, Shadowdale was not, in fact, within the borders of Cormyr."

"Lady, we seek Elminster. We are to bring him to Suzail as swiftly as possible."

"Then you're in luck. He's there already. In the royal palace, if nothing's gone awry. And I must return to him as quickly as I can. Which brings us to the second thing you can do to make amends to me." She strode to Starbridge and held out her hand. "Yield to me your teleport ring."

Starbridge held out hands that bore no rings at all. "Lady, I have no-"

"You can dispense with lying to me, too," Storm told him crisply. "I speak of the ring in the little bag inside your tunic, that's hanging from the inside of your collar. In return, I'll tell you the name of a man in Mistledale who owes me much coin, and the word that will therefore make him freely give all of you superb fast mounts for your ride back to Cormyr."

Starbridge's face had gone flame red under the gaze of the war wizards, who were regarding him with frowns.

"How came you by a teleport ring?" Mereld asked Starbridge softly.

"It belonged to Queen Filfaeril," Storm replied before Sir Eskrel could say a word. "The highknights have had it in their keeping ever since her death, thanks to her foresight and wise wishes. And my carrying them out."

"Lady," the wizard Lemmeth said in a low voice from behind Mereld, "you'll appreciate how difficult it is for us to believe all of this."

Storm nodded. "I do. Your disbelief is quite understandable-but a serious failing in a wizard of war, wouldn't you say?"

She turned back to Starbridge. "The ring, sir."

Eskrel Starbridge seemed to be struggling with himself. He glared at her, face shifting through a variety of not-quite-readable expressions, then tore open his collar, plucked forth the little bag she'd spoken of, and produced the ring.

Storm took it stepped forward and kissed him full on the mouth, put an arm around him and waltzed her way around behind him as he was still blinking in astonishment, stepped back-and was gone.

Leaving the Cormyreans blinking at each other across a hollow full of unconscious men.

Narulph broke the silence with a sudden, angry oath. "You let her get away! Without even telling us how to get the horses!"

Starbridge shook his head slowly. "When she kissed me, his name and a word just appeared appeared in my mind: 'Denneth Rhardantan,' and 'glimmerdeep.'" in my mind: 'Denneth Rhardantan,' and 'glimmerdeep.'"

He shook himself again, as if awakening, and snapped, "Get these dolts awake-they work for the Crown, so be gentle-and let's be finding the trail to Mistledale. If this council goes as ill as I fear it will, I want to be back in Cormyr before it erupts into war!"

His command all stared at him; he gave them a glare, waved his arms, and roared, "Did you hear me? Move!" Move!"

They moved. All except the war wizards Mereld and Lemmeth.

"Sir Highknight," Mereld asked quietly, "are you all right? What else did she do to you?"

Eskrel Starbridge stared back at them for a moment and then said, "I'm under no glamour, if that's what you fear. Put down those sticks, Lemmeth; they're not wands. She just took them from the kindling to make fools think they were seeing a wizard with wands, so they'd leave him be. She told me that, too."

He started across the hollow. "And she gave me a look into her mind," he added in a whisper. "I don't think I'll be sleeping for some while. I know now what real real loneliness feels like." loneliness feels like."

The two war wizards stepped into his way, wearing frowns. "We'd better get you to-"

Starbridge gave them a wry grin and shook his head. "I'll be all right. You see, I know now what true love feels like, too."

"What's wrong?" Marlin Stormserpent snapped.

Windstag was too out of breath and too terrified to be coherent. He put his head down almost against Marlin's belly, gasping and shuddering. "Get us inside! Magic-don't know whose-yours?-s.n.a.t.c.hed us here!"

Marlin bundled the three n.o.bles through the door and slammed it in a whirlwind of haste, then rushed them along a dark pa.s.sage, up some stairs, and into a room in Stormserpent Towers that none of the three had ever seen before. The Lords Dawntard and Sornstern promptly fainted.

Marlin gave them a grim look then snapped at Windstag, "Catch your breath, then tell me your tale."

Nodding, head down, and panting too hard to speak, Windstag fumbled in the breast of his disarranged jerkin and brought out-a glowing hand axe!

"Ha ha!" Marlin burst out, s.n.a.t.c.hing it from him. "Well done! Oh, well done!" done!"

And he rushed from the room, chortling in triumph.

Broryn Windstag fought to get in two gasping breaths more of air, then forced himself into a run, up and after Stormserpent.

Who was luckily still visible, racing up a narrow servants' stair in the dimly lit distance. Windstag struggled after him, lungs burning, lurching like a drunken man in his pain and weariness, but clawing his way up the stairs and keeping Marlin-or at least the glowing axe-in sight.

Stormserpent ended up in the room where he always met with them. Axe in hand, he spun around, pointed at Windstag, and commanded, "Be still "Be still. Don't move or speak until I'm done with the ritual."

He turned away without waiting for a reply, so Windstag lurched to his usual chair and collapsed in it. Where he leaned on the table, still gasping loudly, able to do little more than stare at Marlin Stormserpent.

Who turned away for a moment, his elbow moving as if his fingers were busy getting something out of his own clothing, then turned back to face the table and Windstag.

Holding the axe up as if saluting with it, Marlin read from a sc.r.a.p of parchment that he hadn't been holding moments earlier. "Arruthro." "Arruthro."

That word seemed to roll away across a greater distance than the room could contain-and the air darkened. At first Windstag thought it was his own labored breathing that was making things seem that way, but then he felt a tension, almost a singing, in the air, too.

That definitely definitely hadn't been there, before. hadn't been there, before.

"Tar lammitruh arondur halamoata," lammitruh arondur halamoata," Stormserpent announced, speaking loudly and slowly. Stormserpent announced, speaking loudly and slowly.

The room seemed to grow colder. Windstag swallowed a curse.

"Tan thom tanlartar," Marlin added-and the hand axe silently erupted in weird blue fire. Raging flames raced down his arm to the elbow and then wreathed it and the axe in an ongoing inferno that-Windstag stared-seemed to cause Stormserpent no pain at all, nor even scorch his clothing. No heat was coming from it, only a deepening chill. Marlin added-and the hand axe silently erupted in weird blue fire. Raging flames raced down his arm to the elbow and then wreathed it and the axe in an ongoing inferno that-Windstag stared-seemed to cause Stormserpent no pain at all, nor even scorch his clothing. No heat was coming from it, only a deepening chill.

"Lara.s.se lara.s.se thulea," Marlin declaimed, and the room went icy. Marlin declaimed, and the room went icy.

An instant later, the blue flames sprang from the blade of the axe, a flood of fire that arced to the floor and then rebounded up again in an upright column, a surging, rising thing that grew and grew. With a darkness at the heart of those rushing flames that slowly...became a man.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

MY H HOUNDS TO H HUNT Y YOU D DOWN.

At the sight of a man in the heart of the blue flames, Marlin Stormserpent laughed in triumph-but his mirth faltered when the flames fell to the floor with a crash, like the contents of an upended bucket of water, and were suddenly gone.

Leaving behind someone who was not wreathed in endless blue flames like Langral and Halonter had been.

Stormserpent joined Windstag in gape-mouthed, astonished staring.

Standing in his meeting room was an unlovely man in rumpled leathers who was stout-no, fat fat-and wrinkled with age and hard living. And who was staring back at him with a shrewd, measuring look.

"W-who are you? One of the Nine?" Marlin managed to ask when he found his voice again.

"Do I look look like a bare-behind dancing girl? The Naughty Nine are all taller than me, lad, and far more shapely, too-though I'll agree they don't make cozy la.s.ses like they used to! Nay, lad, I'm no dancer, whate'er yer preferences. I'm a bit of a trader and not much more, these days, though I guess 'tis no secret I'm a lord of Waterdeep." like a bare-behind dancing girl? The Naughty Nine are all taller than me, lad, and far more shapely, too-though I'll agree they don't make cozy la.s.ses like they used to! Nay, lad, I'm no dancer, whate'er yer preferences. I'm a bit of a trader and not much more, these days, though I guess 'tis no secret I'm a lord of Waterdeep."

"Whaaat?"

"Nay, nay, no need for awe and astonishment. I," the old man said sardonically, drawing himself up in mimicry of a grand ruler and striking a heroic pose, "am Mirt. Sometimes called the Moneylender, and more often-hem-called much worse things."

Marlin stared in disbelief, growing a frown, then swiftly tried to force the old man back into the hand axe, as he could control Langral and Halonter.

Nothing happened.

"Sit down!" he snapped. "And-and cover your eyes with your hands!"

Mirt the Moneylender lifted one bristling eyebrow. "Children's games, is it? I always wondered wondered what wealthy younglings got up to when-" what wealthy younglings got up to when-"

"This one, a lord of Waterdeep?" Windstag sneered scornfully. "He sounds like a merchant from the docks!"

Mirt dispensed a dour look. "I am am a merchant from the docks, loud buck! And who might ye be, with yer scorn and yer fancy clothes? Ye look like n.o.bles, both of ye, but I know every last born n.o.ble of the city, la.s.s and jack, an'-" a merchant from the docks, loud buck! And who might ye be, with yer scorn and yer fancy clothes? Ye look like n.o.bles, both of ye, but I know every last born n.o.ble of the city, la.s.s and jack, an'-"

"We are n.o.bles of are n.o.bles of Cormyr," Cormyr," Marlin Stormserpent snapped. "And you stand in Stormserpent Towers in the fair city of Suzail, right now. 'Now' being the Year of the Ageless One, as it happens. I doubt Waterdeep would suffer the likes of you to be among its lords these days!" Marlin Stormserpent snapped. "And you stand in Stormserpent Towers in the fair city of Suzail, right now. 'Now' being the Year of the Ageless One, as it happens. I doubt Waterdeep would suffer the likes of you to be among its lords these days!"

Mirt gaped at the young Lord Stormserpent and went a little pale. "Ageless One? Is-G.o.ds, is that that how long it's been?" how long it's been?"

"So," Windstag asked Stormserpent, "when do the flames surround him? And when can you start ordering him around like a slave? Or is he going to crumble to dust?"

"Lad," Mirt replied, before Marlin could say anything, "dust is what we're all all going to end up as." He winced. "Dust is probably what my Asper is, right now. And Durnan, and all the others I cared for, or-" going to end up as." He winced. "Dust is probably what my Asper is, right now. And Durnan, and all the others I cared for, or-"

"Oh, shut shut your your wind," wind," Marlin Stormserpent told the old man disgustedly. "As if we care about your doxies or friends or Marlin Stormserpent told the old man disgustedly. "As if we care about your doxies or friends or anyone anyone from Waterdeep! On your knees!" from Waterdeep! On your knees!"

Mirt gave the young lord a glare and stood right where he was. "Huh. If the Realms in this year is full of the likes of ye, I don't think much of it. Or of thy sneering friend, here." He turned his disapproval on Windstag-who responded by rising and drawing his sword.

Marlin did the same, adding a menacing smile.

Mirt rolled his eyes. "And is this how converse is carried on in the Realms these days? Swords, is it? Not even a gla.s.s of something for guests? And ye call yourselves n.o.bles!"

"We do indeed," Marlin Stormserpent told him in silken tones, stalking forward with blade in hand.

Along the other side of the table, Broryn Windstag began the same slow, armed advance.

"Ahem," Mirt said tentatively, taking a step backward. "I believe I did warn ye that I'm a lord of Waterdeep." Mirt said tentatively, taking a step backward. "I believe I did warn ye that I'm a lord of Waterdeep."

"And we quake at the news," Marlin Stormserpent sneered, hefting his blade. "This "This is what we think of lords of Waterdeep." is what we think of lords of Waterdeep."

He spat at Mirt, though the range was considerable and he merely wetted the floor in front of the old man's worn and flopping sea boots.

Mirt raised his brows, face mild.

Windstag strode forward, menacing the Waterdhavian with his sword. "Though we do do know how rich lords of Waterdeep are. So you can either yield up a lot of coin to us, here and now-or die." know how rich lords of Waterdeep are. So you can either yield up a lot of coin to us, here and now-or die."

The old man sighed.

"I don't, as it happens," he said sourly, "carry heavy sacks of coins around in my codpiece-or anywhere else under these old rags, either. All the bulges ye see are my own."

"So how much coin can you lay hands on in Suzail? And how quickly?"

"Well," Mirt wheezed, lumbering forward with an utter disregard for the sharp points of their swords, to peer at the table that displayed Marlin's map of the city, "that depends."

"On?" The decanter had caught Marlin's interest, but he stopped heading for it to see just where on the map the old man-who was standing right against the table, holding onto it for support-was looking.

"On whether or not ye fall for this," the old man said calmly, heaving up, hard-and hurling the table over onto the fine-booted toes of both n.o.blemen.

Who shrieked in pain and dropped their swords, lost in writhing agony. Which gave Mirt plenty of time to take a heavy statuette of Arlond Stormserpent Slaying a Dragon Arlond Stormserpent Slaying a Dragon from the sideboard, lurch alongside the blindly hopping, shouting Windstag, and dash the n.o.ble to the floor with a blow to the head. from the sideboard, lurch alongside the blindly hopping, shouting Windstag, and dash the n.o.ble to the floor with a blow to the head.

Marlin, who was also hopping in pain, turned to try to fight, lost his balance, and toppled. Whereupon Arlond landed hard on his face, breaking his nose and sending him off to dreamland.

Mirt calmly drew his dagger and sliced free two bulging n.o.ble purses. "That "That quickly," he told the silent, sprawled, and copiously bleeding Marlin Stormserpent. quickly," he told the silent, sprawled, and copiously bleeding Marlin Stormserpent.

The royal palace of Suzail was always quieter by night than by day. Not that the servants ever slept-least of all with the council almost upon the realm-but by the dark hours the collective vigilance of guards, courtiers, and wizards of war had at least ensured that all the visiting n.o.bles were temporarily gone, and no more of them were coming to the gates haughtily demanding things.

With morning heading for highsun, the floors above were abuzz with busy servants-though much furniture-shifting and rifling of the wine cellars had been done, and most of the chambers of state arranged, prepared, and then firmly shut up to await their coming times of need. Only the kitchens were working full tilt, with already-weary chambermaids pressed into service to help shift fresh-baked goods from the ovens to tables in nearby function rooms, thereby clearing the way so that more could be baked.

The lone armored figure stalking unseen past all this tumult in one of the better-known secret pa.s.sages was weary, too. He'd filched an entire tray of sage-and-egg tarts-better a tray than just one or two, when that might rouse a search for some lurking intruder-and had eaten more than was comfortable, but this armor had room enough for a dozen trays of uneaten tarts, if he cared not how much they crumbled.