Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [135]
"Easy, sister," another Starym murmured, his own lips trembling with holding back the tears.
"Have you seen?' a sudden bellow rang off the rafters above them, as a distant door banged open against the wall with booming force. "This means war! To spells, Solonor damn you for witless old weak-knees, to spells! We must to court before the murderous Irithyl can escape!"
"Have done, Maeraddyth," the broad-shouldered elf seated closest to the sphere said quietly.
The young elf didn't hear him as he stormed up to the gathered Starym. "Move, you gutless elders! Where've you lost your pride, all of you?! Our Lord Speaker cut down in his blood, and you all stand around watching! What-"
"I said: have done, Maeraddyth," the seated elf said again, just as quietly as before. The raging young male stiffened in mid-growl, and stared down past all the silent faces, each wearing its own shock and sorrow.
The senior archmage of House Starym looked back up at him with mild eyes. "There is a time for throwing lives away," Uldreiyn Starym told his trembling young relative, "and Llombaerth has used it-more than used it-this day. We shall be fortunate if House Starym is not hunted down and slain, to every last trace-blood. Hold your anger, Maeraddyth; if you hurl your life after all those lost in yon chamber-" he inclined his head toward the sphere, where scenes of battle still flickered and flowed, "-you will be a fool, and no hero."
"But Elder Lord, how can you say that?" Maeraddyth protested, waving at the sphere. "Are you as craven as the rest of these-"
"You are speaking," Uldreiyn said in a voice of sudden steel, "of your elders; Starym who were revered and celebrated for their deeds when your sire's sire was still a babe. Even when he puled and wailed, he never disgusted me by his childishness as you are doing, here and now."
The young warrior stared at him in genuine astonishment. The archmage's eyes thrust into his like twin spears, keen and merciless. Uldreiyn gestured to the floor, and Maeraddyth, swallowing in disbelief, found himself going to his knees.
The mightiest archmage of House Starym looked down at him. "Yes, it is right to be aghast and angry that one of our own has perished. But your fury should be sent to him, wherever what remains of Llombaerth is wandering now, for daring to drag down all of House Starym into his treachery. To work against a misguided Coronal is one thing; to attack and denounce the ruler of all Cormanthor before all his court is quite another. I am ashamed. All of these kin you deem 'craven' are sad, and shocked, and shamed. They are also thrice your quality, for they know above all that a Cormanthan elf-a noble Cormanthan elf-a Starym Cormanthan elf-keeps himself under control at all times, and never betrays the honor and pride of this great family. To do so is to spit upon the family name you are so hot to uphold, and besmirch the names and memories of all your ancestors."
Maeraddyth was white, now, and tears glimmered in his eyes.
"If I was cruel," Uldreiyn told him, "I would share with you some of the memories of Starym you've never known, drowning you in their prides and schemes and sorrows. These kin you ridicule carry such weights, when you are too young and stupid to know true duties. Speak to me not of war, and going to spells,' Maeraddyth."
The young Starym burst into tears, and the old mage was suddenly out of his chair and kneeling knee-to-knee with the weeping Maeraddyth, enfolding his shaking arms in a grip like old iron. "Yet I know your rage, and grief, and restlessness, youngling," he said into the young warrior's ear. "Your need