Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [100]
Then, assuming the Revered Lord Most High of Cormanthor was unharmed, 'twould be time to seek out the Srinshee and get a certain much-maligned human armathor of the realm his body back, if this condition hadn't passed away by then.
El turned in the direction the palace should be, rose until he was among treetops and spired towers, and sped among them, looking down as he passed at the unfolding beauty of Cormanthor.
There were circular gardens like little green wells, and trees planted in crescentiform arcs to enclose little moss lawns in their encircling shelter. There were stone spires around which gigantic trees spiraled in living helices of leaves and carefully-shaped branches and little windows opening in the bark, with the forms of young elves at play dancing and wrestling visible within. There were banners of translucent silk that rode the winds as lightly as gossamer threads, and trees that held those banners on boughs shaped like the fingers of an open hand, with a domed upper room squatting like an egg in the palm of that hand. There were houses that revolved, and sparkled back the sun from swirling glass ornaments hanging like frozen raindrops from their balconies and casements.
El looked at it all with fresh wonder. In all his tearing about and fighting, he'd forgotten just how beautiful elven work could be. If the elder elven houses had their way, of course, humans would never see any of this-and those few intruders who did, such as one Elminster Aumar, would not live long enough to tell anyone of such splendors.
After a time he came out of a knot of tree homes and spired, many-windowed houses, passing over a wall that bore several enchantments. Beyond was a garden of many pools and statues. The garden, El realized as he drifted onward and onward, was big.
And yet it didn't look like the Coronal's palace garden. Where were the…?
No, that wasn't the palace. It was a grand house, yes-a mound of greenery pierced by windows and bristling with slender towers. Its ivy-covered flanks fell away to the lazy curves of a stream that slid placidly past islands that looked like huge clumps of moss linked by little arched bridges.
It was the most beautiful mansion El had ever seen. He veered toward its nearest large upper window. Like most such openings it was bereft of glass, and filled instead by an invisible spell field that prevented the passage of all solid objects, but let breezes blow unchecked. Two well-dressed elves were leaning against the unseen field, goblets in their hands.
"My Lord Maendellyn," someone was saving in thin, superior tones, "you can hardly think it usual for one of my House to so swiftly find common cause with those of younger heritage and lesser concerns; this is truly something that strikes at us all."
"Have we then, Llombaerth, the open support of House Starym?"
"Oh, I don't think that is yet necessary. Those who wish to reshape Cormanthor and stand proud in doing so must occasionally be seen to do things for themselves-and bear the consequences."
"While the Starym watch, smiling, from the sidelines," a third voice said in dry tones, "ready to applaud such bold Houses if they succeed, or decry their foul treachery if they fail. Yes, that would make a House live long and profit much. At the same time, it leaves those of the House in question standing on uneasy ground when presuming to lecture others on tactics, or ethics, or the good of the realm."
"My Lord Yeschant," the thin voice said coldly, "I don't care for the tone of your observations."
"And yet, Lord Speaker of the Starym, you can find it in you to make common cause with us-for you have the most to lose of us all."
"How so?"
"House Starym now holds the proudest rank of all. If this insane plan the Coronal is urging on Cormanthor is allowed to befall, House Starym has more to lose than, say, House Yridnae."
"Is there a House Yridnae?" someone asked, in the background, but El, as he drifted nearer, heard no reply.
"My lords," the Lord