Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [36]
Vangerdahast nodded and smiled. "And-?"
"He and Sir Wizard Halansalim have Lord Bleth in their care now, in the Redpetal Room, and await your earliest pleasure there."
"Well," the Royal Magician demanded, "what are you waiting for?" And he plucked up his robes at the knees like a servingmaid and ran. The winded page could barely keep up.
* * * * *
"Untouched, all the high holy men agree. Untouched when the three you were riding with lie stricken, one dead… and yet you," Vangerdahast said, spacing his words with menacing gentleness, "are… entirely.. untouched by the beast's breath. I find that most curious. Would you not find that curious, Aunadar Bleth, if a man under your command came back unscathed from a fray with a poison-breathing beast that laid all of his companions low?"
"What are you saying?" the young noble snapped coldly, his face red with anger. He had been poked, prodded, and enspelled for the past several hours, and the strain and irritation shone on his face.
Alaphondar and the gaunt old war wizard across the room regarded him impassively. There were wands in both of their hands, and when Aunadar's hand moved unconsciously toward the hilt of his sword, the tips of both wands lifted, to catch his eye, and twitched warningly.
The young man's lips thinned as he set his mouth in a hard line, but his hand fell back to his side.
"What am I saying?" Vangerdahast's voice was bitingly mild as he strolled back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. Aunadar's eyes followed his progress. "I have, so far, said nothing. I merely ask. I ask you for your opinion, knowing my own already. But then, fat old men in robes never seem to have a high regard for the bravery and sword skills of swaggering youths, do they?"
Aunadar turned to face the wizard and snarled, "Enough of your insults, old man! I am a Bleth, not a lowborn dotard who happens to have a few wands and a title at court! I may not have taught the king everything he knows, but my father and his forebears have walked this land as long as the Obarskyrs! Few throughout all those long years ever dared to impugn their bravery!"
Aunadar's blustering was met with only silence… cold silence. When he, too, fell silent, his last shouted words fell like stones into an abyss, past eyes that were very gray with age this night, but as calm as if they belonged to a painting.
They belonged, in fact, to the Royal Magician of the realm, who said mildly, "As I recall, the Bleths have always been strong on old history and bearing grudges until full-fledged feuds are born. Since you mention longevity, let me inform you that I, lowborn commoner that I am, am descended from someone your tutors just may have acquainted you with: Baerauble Etharr. That means my ancestors have been treading the dirt of Cormyr longer than the noble sod has known the weight of either Obarskyr feet… or Bleth boots. Longevity, it seems, grants no special status."
His tone changed from sadness to something with a little more thunder as he added, "Nor, as seems increasingly clear, does it have anything to do with loyalty."
"Just what are you saying?" the young noble demanded, his rising voice making the challenge almost a plea.
The old wizard spread his hands. "I need to know-the crown needs to know-your loyalties in this affair."
Their eyes locked in silence, and Vangerdahast added, "I need to know if I can trust the man who may be our next king or prince consort, depending on the decisions of Queen Filfaeril and the crown princess. I need to know if I should be aiding the man who can give true love and support to the heir apparent-or blasting him to ashes, that he have no more chance to bring the fair realm down into ruin."
Aunadar Bleth licked suddenly dry lips and asked, "So what would you have me do?" His eyes were drawn to the moving hands and lips of the war wizard across the room. Halansalim was murmuring a spell… a magic that would, no doubt, tell him if a certain young noble was trifling with the truth.
There