Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [94]
She found Baerauble ensconced in a chair, trapped in conversation with one of the rotund elder Crownsilvers. His face almost brightened upon seeing his pupil. To the Crownsilver, he said, "You must pardon me, for my student needs to walk her master home."
Crownsilver bowed and backed away. Amedahast helped the old wizard to his feet. He felt frail now, as if the life had gone out of him.
Once they were in the hallway outside their rooms, he said, "I thank you for rescuing me. If I had to hear Lord Crownsilver's epic treatise on rebuilding Marsember one more time, I would go quite mad." The old mage weaved a bit, and Amedahast smelled ale on his breath.
"My lord?" she ventured.
"Hmmmm?" was his reply.
"Have you ever served an evil king?" she asked. "I mean, a really bad and foul man?"
"Two separate questions," slurred Baerauble. "Cormyr has been blessed never to have a truly evil king. Mad, yes. Insufficient, yes. Greedy, bad, violent, petty, yes, yes, yes, yes. And lust-driven… oh, my, yes. But the Obarskyrs have been blessed with never having an evil king. The elves did well when they let the Obarskyrs stay."
"But if they were mad and violent and… lust-driven, why did you serve them?"
The old mage turned and regarded Amedahast. "I serve the crown, not the head it rests on. I have lived for over four hundred years, and in that time I have seen this nation grow from a single encampment to something worthwhile. And if continuing that achievement means doing my best in the face of adversity, so be it. We do not rule here, pupil. But we do protect, and that means protecting men whom we might otherwise judge weak or foolish, because there is always hope with the next generation. 'Do what you can,' I always have said, 'and it will be enough.'"
They reached Baerauble's quarters, and the old man bade her good night. Amedahast stood in the hallway for a long time. In another part of the keep, the dance continued, and high, spirited music wafted weakly, lacelike, down the halls. She listened to it for a moment and thought of foolish men and weak women.
Then she returned to her own quarters and pulled down the ancient texts and spell grimoires she had brought with her from Myth Drannor.
* * * * *
On the next afternoon, Azoun was late and looked more than a bit bedraggled, but he did show up, dressed as always for riding. He hurtled up the stairs two at a time.
Amedahast looked up from the tome she was reading and regarded him unemotionally. "You are later than usual."
"Kings set their own hourglasses," he said cheerily, adding, "That was a wondrous dance last night. I missed you at the end."
"Indeed," she said calmly, "Lord Baerauble needed my assistance, and some of us still have duties, even in the midst of the season. I want to talk to you about the possible resettlement of Marsember."
"Oh-ho! Crownsilver got to you," said the young prince, giving her a smile that she now thought of as annoying. "He'd get the bulk of the farmland if it were truly reestablished. And his cousins in the Truesilver clan would benefit if we ever finally got rid of the pirates and smugglers once and for all."
He went on about the ins and outs of the Marsember question, but Amedahast was only half listening. She scanned the surrounding garden. The flower beds, now in full bloom, seemed to hold menace, and every statue was a perch for a possible assassin.
Suddenly she saw it, a mere rippling of light along the side of the garden maze. Just the slightest shimmer, as if the holly leaves were caught in a breeze that existed nowhere else. The movement would be unnoticed by anyone not looking for it specifically.
But Amedahast was looking for it and knew what it meant. Elven cloaks, smuggled out from Cormanthor. They would bend the light about them, such that the wearer would be well-nigh invisible against