Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [54]
Cilivren Doedance, the quietest and most polite of them all, sputtered briefly over the glass she was filling, and decided the prudent thing to do was to put it down. Setting the glass back on its float-platter, she stoppered the decanter and slid it back into its usual recess in the little stream in the bushes beside her.
"The word's all over the city," she explained calmly. "The Coronal has named some human an armathor of the realm! And a man human at that! A thief who stole the kiira of a First House, and broke into their city residence to steal spells and despoil their ladies!"
"It wasn't House Starym, was it?" Ithrythra asked dryly. "There's never been much love lost between old Eltargrim and our haughtiest of Houses."
"House Starym has served Cormanthor a thousand summers longer than a certain House I could name," Phuingara Lhoril said stiffly. "Those Cormanthans of truly noble spirit do not find their pride excessive."
"Cormanthans of truly noble spirit do not indulge in prideful behavior at all," Ithrythra replied silkily.
"Oh, Ithrythra! Always cutting at us, as if that tongue of yours was a sword! I don't know why your lord puts up with you!" Duilya Evendusk said pettishly, annoyed at having the center of attention wrenched from her grasp.
"I've heard why," Alaglossa Tornglara observed quietly to the leaves overhead. Ithrythra blushed as the other ladies in the pool tittered. Duilya added her own grating guffaw and then hastened to seize center stage once more. The tips of her ears were almost drooping today under the weight of all the gems dangling from their rows of studs.
"Pride or no pride, 'twasn't the Starym," she said excitedly, "but House Alastrarra. They're saying at court that both the court mages would like to challenge the Eltargrim with blades before the altar of Corellon, rather than let a human walk among us and live-let alone be named armathor! Some of the younger armathors, those not lords of Houses, mind, and with little to lose, have been to the palace already to break their blades and hurl the pieces at the Coronal's feet! One even threw his blade right at Eltargrim!"
"So how long will it be, I wonder," Ithrythra pondered aloud, "before this human meets with an… accident."
"Not long at all, if the looks of the court elders are anything to go by," Duilya gushed on, eyes bright. "If we're very lucky, they'll challenge him at court-or have seeing-spells cast beforehand, so we can all see him torn apart!"
"How very civilized," Cilivren murmured, her voice just audible to Alaglossa and Ithrythra. Duilya, deafened by her own gleeful words, didn't hear.
"And then," she continued, still in full flood, "the First Houses might call a Hunt, for the first time in centuries, and they'll force old Eltargrim into stag shape and hunt him down! Then we'll have a new Coronal! Oh, what excitement!" In her exuberance, she snatched up a decanter and drained it without benefit of a glass.
Reeling, she promptly slumped back in the pool, shuddering and gagging. "Gods above, dear, don't drown here," Phuingara growled, holding her above the waters, "or all our lords'll be at us about talking to those of rival Houses without their leave!"
Ithrythra took great delight in thumping the coughing Duilya solidly in the back. Gems flew across the pool and tinkled against a float-platter.
Alaglossa gave the reigning lady of House Mornmist a tight smile that told Ithrythra her hostess knew quite well that the force of her helpful blow had been quite deliberate-and that silence on that matter might carry a price, later.
"There, there, gentle doe," Alaglossa said solicitously, putting an arm around the shuddering Lady Evendusk. "Better now? The sweetness of our wine often misleads folk into thinking it has no fire-but it's stronger even than that, ah, 'tripleshroom sherry' our lords're always roaring at each other about!"
"Oh," Phuingara purred, "So