Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [39]
"He did, Lady," El told her gently. "He cried out a name, and that he was coming at last to its owner. That name was… Ayaeqlarune."
There was a general groan, and both Melarue and Filaurel hid their faces. Their mother, however, stood like white-faced stone, and the old elf mage only nodded sadly.
Into this grieving swept new arrivals, slim and straight-backed and proud. Rich were their costumes, and haughty their manner, as they came in at the door and stood staring: four she-elves and two much younger maids, with a proud, youthful elven lord at their head. El recognized him from the gem-visions, though there was no floating chair nor tree-pillars and sun-dappling here. This was Ornthalas, now heir-though he did not yet know it-of House Alastrarra.
Ornthalas looked at El in some puzzlement. "Brother," he asked, one elegant brow lowering in a frown, "what means this?"
He glanced about the chamber. "The House is yours; there's no need to challenge our kin about anything." His gaze fell to Filaurel, and darkened. "Or have you taken our sist-"
"Hold peace, youngling," Naeryndam said sternly. "Such thoughts demean us all. See yon gem upon thy brother's brow?"
Ornthalas looked at his uncle as if the old mage had lost his senses. "Of course," he said. "Is this some sort of game? Be-"
"Still for once," the Lady Namyriitha said crisply, and someone among the ring of warriors chuckled.
At that sound, the young elven lord drew himself up, looked around the room in an attempt at dignified silence (El thought he looked like a fat merchant in the streets of Hastarl who has slipped in horse-droppings and fallen hard on his behind on the cobbles; he has scrambled up, and is now looking around to see if anyone witnessed his pratfall, pretending all the while that there is no horse-dung on his backside-no, none at all, as all well-bred people can plainly see…), and announced to his uncle, "Yes, Revered Uncle, I see the kiira."
"Good," the old elf said dryly, and there was another chuckle from the warriors, this one better suppressed. Naeryndam let it die away, and then said, "Ye are sworn to obey the bearer of the kiira, as are we all."
"Yes," Ornthalas nodded, his puzzled frown returning. "I have known this since I was a child, Uncle."
"And remember it yet? Good, good," the old mage replied softly, evoking several chuckles this time. Both Lady Namyriitha and Melarue stirred, exasperation plain on their faces, but said nothing.
"Then do ye swear by the kiira of our House, and all our forebears who live within it, to lift no hand, and cast no spell, upon thy brother as he approaches ye?" Naeryndam asked, his voice suddenly as hard and ringing as a sword blade striking metal.
"I do," Ornthalas said shortly.
The old elf-mage took hold of the young elf s arm, towed him forward through the singing barrier, and then turned to El and said, "Here be he. Do what ye've come to do, sir, before one of my hot-blooded kin does something foolish."
El inclined his head in thanks, took Filaurel gently by the elbows, and said, "My humble apologies, lady, for trammeling thy freedom. It was needful. May the gods grant that it never be so, upon thee, ever again in all thy long days."
Filaurel shrank away from him, eyes very large, and put her knuckles to her lips. Yet as he turned away, she blurted out, "Your honor goes unblemished with you, unknown lord."
El took two quick steps toward Naeryndam, stepped smoothly around him, and bore down upon Ornthalas with a polite smile.
The young elf looked at him. "Brother, are you renouncing-?"
"Sad news, Ornthalas," said Elminster, as their noses crashed together, and then their brows. As the tingling and flashing begun, he held like grim death to the elf s shoulders, and added, "I'm not thy brother."
The memories were surging around him, then, in a maelstrom that was sweeping him away, and Ornthalas was screaming in shock and pain. A white, roaring surge of magic was tugging at him as it rose, and El couldn't hold on any longer.
"May the law