Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [103]
"What preparations?" another lord asked bluntly. This one looked every inch a battle commander, from his scars to his ready sword. When he leaned forward to ask that question, his rich voice held the snap of command.
"Secret preparations, My Lord Paeral," Earynspieir said meaningfully.
A lord who was sitting beside the head of House Paeral-a gold elf, and quite the most handsome male Elminster had ever seen, of any species-looked up with startlingly silver eyes and said quietly, "If you can't trust us, Lord High Mage, Cormanthor is doomed. The time is well past for keeping coy secrets. If those who are loyal don't know exactly where and when events are unfolding in the realm, our Coronal could well fall."
Earynspieir grimaced as if in pain for a moment, before assuming a sickly smile. "Well said as always, My Lord Unicorn. Yet as Lord Adorellan pointed out earlier, every word let out of our lips that need not be is another chink in the Coronal's armor. The Lord Most High is in hiding at this time, upon my recommendation, and-"
"Guarded by whom?" Lords Droth and Paeral asked in almost perfect unison.
"Mages of the court," Earynspieir replied, in tones that signaled he preferred to say no more.
"‘The Six Kissing Sisters'?" the sixth lord asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Are they really a match for a determined attack-considering that some of them belong to houses that may be less than heartbroken to see Eltargrim dead?"
"Lord Siirist," the High Court Mage said severely, "I do not appreciate your description of the ladies who serve the realm so capably. Even less do I admire your open misapprehensions about their loyalty. However, others have shared your concerns, and the six ladies have been truth-scryed by the same expert who even now stands with ready spells at the Coronal's side."
"And that is?" Lord Unicorn prompted firmly.
"The Srinshee," Earynspieir said, a trace of exasperation in his voice. "And if we cannot trust her, lords, who in all Cormanthor can we trust?"
It was clear to Elminster as discussions went on that Lord Earynspieir was going to say as little as possible about whatever preparations he'd made. Instead he was trying to get these lords to agree to muster mages and warriors at various places, under commanders agreeable to obey anyone who gave them certain secret phrases. He wasn't going to say which houses or individuals he knew to be disloyal, and he certainly wasn't going to reveal anything about the current whereabouts of the Coronal and the Srinshee.
Without a means of teleporting, El couldn't even look in the Vault of Ages for himself. It was well underground-and he didn't even know where.
Feeling sudden exasperation himself, he soared up out of that room, hurled himself through the palace like a foe-seeking arrow, and turned north, out of the city. He needed the quiet of the trees again, to drift and think. Probably, in the end, he'd wind up poking and prying into the lives of elves all over the city, just to glean all the useful information he could. He really didn't know how most elves earned coins to spend for things, for inst-
Something moved, under the trees ahead of him. Something that seemed disturbingly familiar.
El slowed swiftly, drifting to one side to circle and thus see it better. He was right out in the woods now, beyond where the regular patrols would pass, on the edge of a region of small, twisting ravines and tangled brambles.
The thing he was looking at was much scratched from those brambles, as it crawled laboriously along, moving aimlessly on hands and knees-or rather, one hand, for the other was bent back into a frozen claw, and the crawling, murmuring thing was leaning on the wrist instead. Sharp sticks or rocks or thorns had long ago torn open that wrist, as well as other places, and the crawler was leaving a trail of blood. Soon something that devoured such helpless things would get wind of it, or happen upon it.
El descended