Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [59]
"So what is poisonous to a Malaugrym, I wonder?" Belkram asked softly. "There must be something."
"There is," Sylune confirmed. "The touch of silver in their blood-so on a blade, for instance-is corrosive to all of their tissues it reaches."
"It would have been useful," Itharr said quietly, "to have known this a little earlier."
"My apologies," Sylune said. "You are right, and right to be angry. We-Elminster, of course-didn't want you to alert the Malaugrym to a possible deception when we rode out, by demonstrating that you knew all about them. He's… he can be ruthless too, in his own way."
"We know that," Sharantyr said with feeling. "Believe me, we know that." The two Harpers laughed easily.
"Ah, Shar, 'twas a grand adventure that befell us in the High Dale!"
"You had each other," Sharantyr pointed out. "I was paired with Elminster."
"There're ladies across Faerun who'd swoon for a chance to be where you were," Belkram reminded her.
"Right, you can call some of them in next time… but enough," Shar said briskly. "We'll trade salacious stories another time. Correct me, please, if I err in the following admittedly brief analysis. We have a handful of half-spent magic items and Sylune's wisdom and watchfulness to use against an unknown number of powerful shapeshifting wizards who come from another plane… and presumably can flee back there, out of our reach, whenever they desire."
"No, I think you've said it pretty well," Belkram agreed. "Despite our cause being heroic and our hearts pure, we've been very lucky to survive thus far. Sooner or later, if they bother with us, we'll be caught and overwhelmed… as we almost were before the Simbul showed up."
"As we were, I must remind everyone, by nothing more than hobgoblins," Itharr put in soberly. Then he laughed, a sudden light dancing in his eyes. "Why not take the battle to this mysterious castle hideaway of the Malaugrym? If we're dead anyway, what's to be lost? Why not take some of them with us?"
"Spoken like a true Harper," Belkram agreed.
"Spoken like a true idiot," Sharantyr retorted.
"There is often a great similarity, yes," Sylune said diplomatically, and they all chuckled. After a moment of silence, an owl hooted somewhere off in the woods, and Itharr asked, "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Who's for attacking this castle on the morrow?''
"Are you crazy?"
"Why don't you sleep on it until morning, all of you?" Sylune suggested. "We can talk again then, when there isn't food spoiling."
"Itharr!"
"Sorry!" Itharr promptly burned his fingers at the fire, nearly dropped most of the food into the flames, and gave vent to almost as many colorful suggestions as were offered to him.
The scorched rabbit was, surprisingly, very good.
* * * * *
Hawkgauntlet, Kythorn 18
Across the gloomy taproom of the Hawkgauntlet Arms, the balding bartender stared at Elminster and slowly grew pale. "Burn them alive?" he gasped. "Right… here?"
"Would ye prefer I did the deed?"
Galdus gulped. "I'd prefer… it didn't happen at all."
Elminster nodded at him. "I hear ye," he said softly. "I'll take them far away instead. If I leave them nearby- believe me-ye'll have them back here soon, carving up thy folk, looting thy tavern, and then going on to the next place."
Galdus nodded. "No doubt. Yet if you burn them here, I'd have to move on myself. I couldn't walk past their ashes every morn… I just couldn't."
The Old Mage nodded. "I understand," he said quietly. "So be it." He murmured something and waved a hand, and the struggling brigands were suddenly gone.
"Are they… dead?"
"Not yet. If they behave, not for many years yet. But I'm afraid I don't expect them to behave."
The bartender gulped. "I… ah… you have my thanks, friend."
"Fair fortune follow thee and thine," Elminster said in formal reply. Then he