Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [57]
The passing decade had changed Baerauble not a whit, he was still lanky and emaciated, his hair and beard unbroken auburn. He carried a heavy, gnarled staff now, but Ondeth never saw him use it for support.
As the elf-friend approached, the Silvers and others pulled back. Several laid hands on their blades, ready to draw them if the wizard showed any sign of menace.
Ondeth and Faerlthann held their ground. The older Obarskyr nodded to the mage and spoke quietly. "Were you involved in this?"
"Not directly," Baerauble replied, his face haggard and worn. Faerlthann noted that no shock chased across the wizard's features as he glanced at the heap of corpses. "You need fire?"
Ondeth shrugged and turned to the carrion pile. He offered a prayer to Lathander and Tyche and all the old gods for the safe passage of those slain "to their fitting final fates."
Baerauble bowed his head along with everyone else, muttered a few quiet phrases, and stretched out his hands. A gout of fire burst from his outstretched palms.
The wood beneath the bodies caught in an instant, and in the space of a few breaths, the entire pyre was ablaze. A new column of smoke rose into the Cormyrean sky.
The settlers and the wizard watched the flames catch hold of Mondar's shirt and flesh, then crackle along his beard. "What do you mean, 'not directly'?" asked Ondeth at last.
"Iliphar's court has been debating the fate of this farm for some time," said Baerauble.
"This farm has been here for six years," said Ondeth sharply.
"A pleasant day for an elf," said Baeraubie calmly. "The briefest slumber for a dragon. Elves decide things slowly."
"And act quickly," said Ondeth. "So quickly you had no chance to warn us?"
Ondeth expected a denial, one that would have shattered the last remains of their friendship. Instead Baerauble sighed. "Would a warning have helped? Would it have been better for you to have died here, sword in hand, helping an ally who was clearly in the wrong?"
"'Twas six years, man!" said Ondeth hotly, his brows coming together in a fierce line.
"Aye, and I would have thought you could talk some sense into the man in that time," Baerauble replied. "You know the elves only allow slow growth, and only where we have permitted it. Now the rest of the human settlers will stay closer to Suzara's town and leave the elves to their hunting."
"You think that?" said Ondeth. "You honestly think that my people will not seek revenge? You honestly think they'll agree to protect your precious forests out of fear?"
The two older men, with young Faerlthann beside them, watched the flames dance among the dead. Mondar and his family were little more than black lumps among leaping red and orange fiery tendrils now, only vaguely human in form.
"No, I do not," said the mage at length. "But my voice does not carry the weight it once did in Iliphar's court. There are those who point to my human blood and call me your puppet and spy. Some were expecting me to ride with a warning to you, and so betray myself." He looked at the grim, watching men with their hands on their swords, and then back to Ondeth. "Tell me, are these men loyal?"
Ondeth looked at the mage and said nothing.
"Are these men loyal to you?" Baerauble asked again. "Will they do as you ask?"
Ondeth looked at the others. The Silver brothers, Rayburton, Jolias Smye the smith. Faerlthann. Without thought to the choosing in his haste, he'd chosen them to ride here with him.
"Yes, they are loyal," he said slowly, eyes narrowing as he looked at the wizard.
"Loyal enough to kill for you?" pressed Baerauble, "Or, more importantly, not to kill?"
"What are you getting at, wizard?" snapped Ondeth.
"I could not stop this attack, but we can stop the war," said the elf-friend. "The elves have no argument with you and your settlement in general, though it now grows large enough to worry some in the court. Only Mondar, who broke the covenant, was punished. If you and your men tell your people that elves did this, they'll attack the court and their hunters, and this-" he waved one