Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [10]
The knight leaned forward suddenly to grip Elminster's arms. "Ye must hear me in this," he said urgently. "Belaur bested his brothers-but his victory has cost him, an' all of us, the realm. He bought the services of mages from all over Faerun to win him the Stag Throne. He sits on it today-but his wits are so clouded by drink an' by their magic that he doesn't even know he barks only when they kick him: his magelords are the true rulers of Athalantar. Even the beggars in Hastarl know it."
"How many of these wizards are there? What are their names?" Elminster asked quietly.
Helm released him and sat back, shaking his head. "I know not-an' I doubt any folk in Athalantar do, below swordcaptains of the Stag, except perhaps the house servants of Athalgard." He cast a keen look at Elminster. "Sworn to avenge thy parents, Prince?"
Elminster nodded.
"Wait," the knight told him bluntly. "Wait until ye're older, an've gathered coins enough to buy mages of thy own. Ye'll need them-unless ye want to spend the rest of your days as a purple frog swimming in some palace perfume-bowl for the amusement of some minor apprentice of the magelords. Though it took all of them to do it, an' they had to split apart Wyrm Tower stone by stone, they slew old Shandrath-as powerful an archmage as ye'll find in all the lands of men-two summers back." He sighed. "An' those they couldn't smash with spells, they slew with blades or poison, Theskyn the court mage, for one. He was the oldest an' most trusted of Uthgrael's friends."
"I will avenge them all," Elminster said quietly. "Before I die, Athalantar will be free of these magelords-every last one, if I have to tear them apart with my bare hands. This I swear."
Helm shook his head. "No, Prince, swear no great oaths. Men who swear oaths are doomed to die by them. One thing hunts and hounds them-an' so, they waste and stunt their lives."
Elminster regarded him darkly. "A wizard took my mother and father-and all my friends, and the other folk I knew. It is my life, to spend how I will."
Helm's face split in that delighted grin again. He shook his head. "Ye're a fool, Prince-a prudent man'd foot it out of Athalantar and never look back, nor breathe a word of his past, his family, or the Lion Sword to a soul… mayhap to live a long an' happy life somewhere else." He leaned forward to clasp Elminster's forearm. "But ye could not do that an' still be an Aumar, prince of Athalantar. So ye will die in the trying." He shook his head again. "At least listen to me, then-an' wait until ye have a chance before letting anyone else in all Faerun know ye live… or ye'll not give one of the magelords more than a few minutes of cruel sport."
"They know of me?"
Helm gave him a pitying look. "Ye are a lamb to the ways of court, indeed. The wizard ye saw over Heldon doubtless had orders to eliminate Prince Elthryn an' all his blood before the son they knew he'd sired could grow old and well-trained enough to have royal ambitions of his own."
There was a little silence as the knight watched the youth grow pale. When the lad spoke again, however, Helm got another surprise.
"Sir Helm," Elminster said calmly, "Tell me the names of the magelords and ye can have my sheep."
Helm guffawed. "In faith, lad, I know them not-an' the others I run with'll have thy sheep whate'er befalls. I will give thee the names of thy uncles; yell need to know them."
Elminster's eyes flickered. "So tell."
"The eldest-thy chief enemy-is Belaur. A big, bellowing bully of a man, for all he's seen but nine-and-twenty winters. Cruel in the hunt and on the field, but the best trained to arms of all the princes. He's shorter of wits than he thinks he is, an' was Uthgrael's favorite until he showed his cruel ways an', o'er and o'er again, his short temper. He proclaimed