Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [129]
The greatest chamber of the pavilion was nearly empty. A pair of guards stood at the entrance, clad in finely-made but archaic chain mail. Across the chamber stood the twisted stump of an ancient tree, a living throne into which three seats had been carved. Two of the seats were empty. The third, the farthest to the right, was occupied by a single cadaverous figure.
Aosinin reached for his sword, thinking this was one of the Witch Lords and that they were standing in the heart of an enormous trap. He relaxed only when he realized that the figure was an elf… though a very ancient elf, it seemed.
The figure on the throne was clad from head to toe in chain, its ornately shaped links as fine as any that could be crafted in Suzail, even by dwarven hands. Its design, like the mail worn by the guards, was archaic, and many of the links were thin enough from wear to appear nearly translucent. The elf's face was elongated, his cheeks and eyes deeply sunken, his remaining hair silver-white and flowing from a receding forehead.
Aosinin had never seen an elf this old before. And yet something about the figure seemed familiar… like the mage Thanderahast. There was something similar in the elf's fluid, well-practiced movements, the grace of…well, a near immortal, Aosinin supposed.
The elf lord waited for the royal party to reach the foot of the throne before speaking. His voice sounded like an old book opening for the first time in a century. "So these are the children of Ondeth and Faerlthann? Somehow I expected more."
The king took a pace ahead of the others. "I am King Galaghard the Third, royal head of Cormyr, called the Forest Kingdom, the Wolf Woods, and the Land of the Purple Dragon. This is my Royal Wizard, Thanderahast, of the blood of Baerauble himself. And the mightiest men of my noble court."
The elf regarded the humans for a long moment, and Aosinin wondered if these elf lords could cast death magic without moving an eyelid. At length, he said, "I am Othorion Keove, last of the house of Iliphar Nelnueve, the Lord of Scepters. Do you remember me?"
Thanderahast stepped forward. "We know of the tales of great Iliphar and of that first coronation of Faerlthann nearly nine centuries back. I fear we have lost much of the records of his court, but we welcome you back to Cormyr."
The elf regarded the wizard stonily. "You are the blood of old Baerauble Elf-friend? The blood must be thin indeed by now, though I believe something magical pulses through your veins, allowing you a long life as old Baerauble had."
Instead of replying, the wizard chose to ignore the venom in the remark. "The same magic that probably pulses through your noble brow as well, lord elf. I am surprised to see one so ancient outside the elven homeland of Evermeet."
The elf nodded. "I have resisted the call of Evermeet the Fair for many years in order to fight against the human incursions, to fight against the fiends of the pit who claimed Myth Drannor, and lately to fight against the southerners who sought to claim our forests unasked."
King Galaghard stepped forward. "May we ask why you are here, lord elf?"
"I thought to do a little hunting," said the elf. "Tell me, do you still have forest buffalo here?"
Thanderahast broke in. "I fear not, Venerable Othonon. They vanished long ago."
"Giant owlbears, then?" suggested the elf lord. "Or envenomed pumas, or great rugs?"
"They are no more as well, lord elf," the wizard replied.
Othorion Keove regarded the humans coldly. "You haven't really taken care of our lands very well, have you?"
Now the king stepped forward once more. "We tend to the land as best as we are able. There are still great forests in Cormyr, which cannot be said of neighboring Sembia, and trees here that stood when your Lord of Scepters was here last. The forested domains are smaller, but they have served us well and have been well tended and mastered."
Thanderahast