Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [67]
Suddenly it dawned on Faerlthann Obarskyr what the wizard meant and whose side Baerauble was on, after all.
"When I was but a child," he began, nodding toward Baerauble, "a venerable and wise elf-friend betimes would sit by our fire and tell stories. His tales were wondrous and great, and chief among them was the saga of an elven king who bested in single combat a great dragon whose black scales had turned purple with age. This elven king's battle skill was mighty, but his words were mightier still. He showed the dragon that twenty elves might fall to slay a dragon, but twenty more elves would come to replace them-to face no dragon, for the loss of a dragon is a harder thing to recover from than the loss of a band of elves."
The young man looked at Iliphar. Yes, the lights of mischief were dancing in the elf lord's eyes, and something else, too. Respect.
"So I offer you the same hard lesson, Othorion. You may step down from your high throne and slay me, and perhaps kill all my companions. You might even burn Suzail as other human camps have been burned. But that will not be the end of things, for more humans will come. And these may not be as friendly or as kind as we of Ondeth's people. If they find our bones, they will know peril awaits in the woods. They may be armed with fire, with steel, and with magic. They may choose to destroy your woods to take the land for themselves. And even in our graves, we will have won, if only in bringing your world to ruin. Is that what you choose, warrior-elf?"
Othorion opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked at Lord Iliphar. The elder elf raised an eyebrow, daring the elf to speak. Slowly, and very reluctantly, Othorion sheathed his blade once more.
"You take on a heavy mantle," said Iliphar, turning back to Faerlthann. "Your father's work and lands and these woods of the elves are great and carry a great weight. There will be more humans, and you and your kindred must teach them, as Ondeth was taught, to use the land but to respect it. It is a daunting job."
Faerithann nodded.
"For that reason, I think you need an advisor," said the elf lord, "one who will remain with you and aid you and your descendants. One vested in the knowledge of the elves and in the passions of humans." He turned toward Baerauble.
For the first time, the mage was surprised. "Me? I cannot! Lord, I have served you well these many years!"
"And you shall serve us well again," said Iliphar, "for humans have short memories and short lives, and you must guide them."
"But I have a life among the elves!" the wizard protested, motioning to the elf woman on the throne. "I have my love and children here… and my grandchildren!"
"And they shall be cared for as well," said Iliphar, stepping before the mage. "I know you well, Baerauble Etharr. You calculated that these other humans would follow young Faerlthann here, and you contrived to make them search their hearts and honor Ondeth's memory and his son with a crown. And you aided this young king in finding the perfect tale to cool hot Othorion. You prodded, poked, and manipulated us all. And all-I trust- because you desired to protect this land."
The elder elf smiled. "And now you will protect this land and its rulers. You will advise, and calculate, and teach now among humans. I charge you with protecting the crown of Cormyr."
Baerauble sputtered a few protests but trailed off into silence. Looking into Iliphar's eyes, he nodded in surrender and acceptance.
The elder elf muttered a few words in a tongue Faerlthann did not recognize, then placed his hands on either side of the wizard's brow, as if he, too, were being crowned with an invisible helm. There was a brief, soft glow where the elf's hands touched Baerauble's face.
The elf lord stepped back. He looked older now, but his eyes still danced. "We will go now. You shall see less and less of us with each passing generation. Perhaps we will become legends like Thauglor the Black, the great purple dragon. But know