Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [191]
"Goldweathers?" said Azoun.
"Goldfeathers," corrected the mage. "A minor house from a few hundred years back. They fomented an unsuccessful rebellion in Arabel years ago and were stripped of their rank and lands. Those commoners have clear title to this land just by occupying and clearing it."
The immediate surroundings had been cleared, but the fields beyond were still overrun with brambles and young trees. There was a coop, but no chickens or other animals on the property. Azoun thought that strange and mentioned it to Vangerdahast.
"Aye," said the wizard. "Perhaps our ghosts have an interest in live chickens and goats."
"I wondered the same thing myself," said a voice from above them.
The speaker swung down from the branch that had been her perch. She was almost as tall as Azoun, but slender and as lithe as a panther. She wore leather trousers that hugged her muscular thighs and calves, and a loose cotton blouse with a heavy leather vest that did nothing to conceal her charms. Her auburn hair was braided in a whiplike tail down her back. Her eyes were bright and green, and she carried a thin, double-bladed sword.
Vangerdahast started to move forward, putting himself between the newcomer and the young prince, but Azoun stopped him with a hand. The wizard looked at his liege and saw that look on his face, eyes determined and serious, mouth in a wide smile. It was an Obarskyr look, and Azoun got it when faced with a new challenge or a new woman.
The woman held her weapon at her side and said, "I am Kamara Brightsteel, errant adventurer and solver of mysteries. And you?" Her voice was husky, and she rolled her r's slightly. The accent made her all the more attractive.
"Balm, a wandering cavalier," Azoun replied, "and his manservant and instructor, Borl." The young prince ignored the fat mage's harrumphed protest and went on. 'We met the inhabitants of this homestead on the road, and they said there were ghosts here."
"I think I also saw their 'ghosts,' the young woman said. "I saw them leaving in haste."
Vangerdahast raised an eyebrow, and she continued, "There were a couple of men, or at least manlike forms, moving around the sides of the house. I think they were gathering up the chickens and goats, but I didn't get all that good a view from my hiding place. Three or four, I'd say. They didn't look like anything special."
"So you think…?" prompted the wizard.
"I think a pack of brigands came upon the house and chased the couple out with spooky noises and rattled chains. They can't have much spine, or they'd simply have killed the two. I think they're nothing more than chicken thieves with perhaps a little more imagination than usual."
"Then let's clean out that nest of chicken thieves," said the wizard.
"Let us do it," Azoun said, still wearing that look. "I mean Kamara and I. It'll be good practice for me. Why don't you go back to the trail and fetch the old couple? By the time you return, we should have taken care of this little problem."
Azoun expected Vangerdahast to argue, but instead, the wizard stared off into the forest for a time, his mouth a firm, straight line. At length, he said, "Very well. I bow to your adventurous spirit. Be careful now." And with that, the wizard padded back down the path, leaving the pair alone before the house.
Kamara watched Vangerdahast's retreating back dwindle into the distance. "Funny old man," she said. "Mage?"
"Scholar," replied Azoun, sticking to the story they'd crafted at the outset of their trip. There was no need to brag of Vangerdahast's abilities, in any event. "I am the warrior of the pair."
"And a brave young warrior at that," Kamara said gently. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke.
A silence fell between them