Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [104]
Fourteen
Anger At Court
Elves today still say "As splendid as the Coronal's Court itself" when describing luxury or work of exquisite beauty, and the memory of that splendor, now taken from us, will never die. The Court of the Coronal was known for its decorum. Even scions of the mightiest houses were known to pause in admiration and awe at the glittering panoply it presented to the eye; and temper their words and deeds with the most courtly graces; and from the Throne of Cormanthor, floating above them, went out the gravest and most noble judgments of that age.
Shalheira Talandren, High Elven Bard of Summerstar
from Silver Blades And Summer Nights:
An Informal But True History of Cormanthor
published in The Year of the Harp
There came a skirling, as of many harp strings struck in unison, and the gentle, magically amplified voice of the Lady Herald rolled across the glassy-smooth floor of the vast Chamber of the Court: "Lord Haladavar; Lord Urddusk; Lord Malgath."
There was a stir among the courtiers; quick conversations rose and then died away into a hush of excitement as the three old elven lords glided in, walking on air, clad in their full robes of honor. Their servants fell away to join the armathors at the doors of the court, and in the tense, hanging silence the three heads of Houses traveled down the long, open hall to the Pool.
A rustling grew in their wake as courtiers along both sides of the room shifted their positions to gain the best possible vantage points. Amid this flurry of movement one short, slim, almost childlike figure drifted behind one of the tapestries that hid exits, and slipped away.
Floating above the glowing, circular Pool of Remembrance was the Throne of the Coronal, and at ease in its high-arched splendor sat the aged Lord Eltargrim in his gleaming white robes. "Approach and be welcome," he said, formally but warmly. "What would you speak of, here before all Cormanthor?"
Lord Haladavar spread his hands. "We would speak of your plan of Opening; we have some misgivings about this matter."
"Plainly said, and in like spirit: proceed," Eltargrim said calmly.
In unison, the three lords held aside the sashes of their robes. Lightning crackled around the hilts of three revealed stormswords. There was a gasp of horror from the courtiers at this breach of etiquette as well as at the danger drawn stormswords could bring, were they wielded in this chamber amid all its thickly laid enchantments.
Armathors started forward grimly from their places by the doors, but the Coronal waved them back and raised his hand, palm up, in the gesture for silence. When it fell, he gestured at the twinkling lights winking excitedly in the pool beneath him, and said calmly, "We were already aware of your weaponry, and have taken the view that it was an error in judgment that you deemed necessary to underscore your solemn resolve."
"Precisely, Revered High Lord," Haladavar replied, and then added what his tone had already made clear: "I am relieved that you see it so."
"I wish I could also take the same view," the Srinshee muttered, settling herself in the ornate ceiling screen high above them all and aiming the Staff of Sundering down through it at the three nobles. "Now that your gesture is made, behave yourselves, lords," she murmured, as if they were children again, and she was their tutor. "Cormanthor will thank you for it."
Glancing up, she saw the row of downward-aimed wands were all in their places, awaiting only her touch to unleash their various perils. "Corellon grant that none of this be needed," the sorceress whispered, and bent her full attention to the events unfolding below.
Unaware of the danger overhead, the three lords ranged themselves in a line facing the Pool, and the head of House Urddusk took up the converse.
"Revered High Lord," he said shortly, "I've not the gift of a