Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [85]
"Do you want to be toppled from within, great Lord, or stormed from without?" Naeryndam Alastrarra asked mildly, tracing a circle on the part of the table-top that had listened so attentively to Uldreiyn earlier.
The Lord Starym glared at him, but then sighed and said, "I'm almost convinced, listening to you three, that the elder Houses of the realm are its chief villains and peril. Almost. The fact remains that you, Revered Lord, allowed a human into our midst, here in the very heart of the realm-and since his arrival we have seen death upon death in a wave of violence unmatched since the last orc horde was foolish enough to test our borders. What are you going to do about it before there are more deaths?"
"There is almost nothing I can do before more deaths occur," the Coronal told him sadly. "The fire brains who were at the revel when Elandorr disappeared are hunting the human as we speak. If they find him, someone will find death, too."
"And that death will, I fear, be laid at your door," said Uldreiyn Starym. "With the others."
Eltargrim nodded. "That, my lord," he said wearily, "is what it means to be Coronal of Cormanthor. Sometimes I think the elder Houses of the realm forget that."
One of the elves came to a halt so swiftly that his flowing hair swung out in front of him like two tusks. "That's the Ghost Castle of Dlardrageth!"
"And so?" Ivran Selorn asked coolly. "Afraid of ghosts, are we?"
Yet they had stopped, and some of the young bloods were looking at Ivran uneasily.
"My sire told me it bears a terrible curse," Tlannatar Wrathtree said reluctantly, "bringing ill luck – and miscast magics – upon any who enter."
"The ghosts that lurk there," another elf put in, "can claw you no matter what blade or spell you use against them."
"What utter leaf-rotting lies!" Ivran laughed. "Why, Ylyndar Starscatter brought his ladies here for loving six summers running. Who'd do that if the ghosts were a bother?"
"Aye, but Ylyndar's one of the most wild-witted mages in all Cormanthor! He even believes in old Mythanthar's mythals! And didn't one of his ladies try to eat her own hand?"
Ivran made a rude sound. "As if that has anything to do with yon castle!" He laughed again, tossed his blade in the air and caught it, and added, "Well, you weak-knees can please yourselves, but I'm going to cut me a little human into pieces I can present to His High Fool-wits the Coronal, and House Waelvor, and hang up in the Selorn trophy lodge!"
He set off at a run again, waving his sword around his head and hooting. After a few moments of uncertain hesitation, Tlannator followed, and two others trotted off on his heels. Another pair of elves looked at each other, shrugged, and followed more cautiously. That left three. They exchanged looks, shrugged, and followed.
* * * * *
Elminster looked up sharply. A metal sword blade ringing off stone has a particular sound. Distinctive enough to make a hunted human rise, close his spellbook, and stand listening intently. Then he smiled. One elf hissing curses at another has a distinctive sound too.
He tried to remember what the Srinshee had told him about the layout of this place. The castle was… nothing, beyond the news that this chamber was 'at its heart.' Hmm. The elves hunting him could be three breaths away, or an hour's hard climbing and peering. That they were hunting him was certain; why else would one of them want another to keep quiet?
El stood there, spellbook under his arm, thinking hard. He could translocate away-once-by calling on the scepter, but he hadn't had a chance to regain his own teleport spell yet. The only place in Cormanthor he could think of to go was the Vault of Ages, and who knew what defenses it would have to prevent thieves just teleporting in and out? To hide would be best. The more blood that ended up on his hands, the harder for his friends here to stay his friends, to let him stay, and to carry out whatever work Mystra had planned for him. Agile, alert elves, however,