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Elminster nodded. "And the second son?"

" 'Tis thought he's dead. Elthaun was a soft-tongued womanizer whose every third word was false. All the realm knew him for a master of intrigue, but he fled Hastarl a step ahead of Belaur's armsmen. The word is, some of the magelords found him in Calimshan later that year, hiding in a cellar in some city-an' used spells to make his death long and lingering."

"The third." Elminster was marking them off on his fingers; Helm grinned at that.

"Cauln was killed before Belaur claimed the throne. He was a sneaking, suspicious sort an' always liked watching wizards hurl fire an' the like. He fancied himself a wizard-an' was tricked into a spell-duel by a mage commonly thought to be hired for the purpose by Elthaun. The mage turned Cauln into a snake-fitting-an' then burst him apart from within with a spell I've never recognized or heard named. Then the first magelords Belaur had brought in struck him down in turn, 'for the safety of the realm.' I recall them proclaiming 'Death for treason!' in the streets of Hastarl when the news was cried."

Helm shook his head. "Then came your father. He was always quiet an' insisted on fairness among nobles and common folk. The people loved him for that, but there was little respect for him at court. He retired to Heldon early on, an' most folk in Hastarl forgot him. I never knew Uthgrael thought highly of him-but that sword ye bear proves he did."

"Four princes, thus far," Elminster said, nodding as if to nail them down in memory. "The others?"

Helm counted on his own grubby fingers. "Othglas was next-a fat man full of jolly jests, who stuffed himself at feasts every night he could. He was stouter than a barrel an' could barely wheeze his way around on two feet. He liked to poison those who displeased him an' made quite a push through the ranks of those at court, downing foes an' any who so much as spoke a word aloud against him, and advancing his own supporters."

Elminster stared at him, frowning. "Ye make my uncles seem like a lot of villains."

Helm looked steadily back at him. "That was the common judgment up an' down the Delimbiyr, aye. I but report to ye what they did; if ye come to the same judgment as most folk did, doubtless the gods will agree with ye."

He scratched himself again, took a pull from his flask, and added, "When Belaur took the throne, his pet mages made it clear they knew what Othglas was up to an' threatened to put him to death before all the court for it. So he fled to Dalniir an' joined the Huntsmen, who worship Malar. I doubt the Beastlord has ever had so fat a priest before-or since."

"Does he still live?"

Helm shook his head. "Most of Athalantar knows what befell; the magelords made sure we all heard. They turned him into a boar during a hunt, an' he was slain by his own underpriests."

Elminster shuddered despite himself, but all he said was, "The next prince?"

"Felodar-the one who went off to Calimshan. Gold and gems are his love; he left the realm before Uthgrael died, seeking them. Wherever he went, he fostered trade betwixt there and here, pleasing the king very much-an' bringing Athalantar what little name an' wealth it has in Faerun beyond the Delimbiyr valley today. I think the king'd have been less pleased if he'd known Felodar was raking in gold coins as fast as he could close his hands on them… trading in slaves, drugs, an' dark magic. He's still doing that, as far as I know, at least chin-deep in the intrigues of Calimshan." Helm chuckled suddenly. "He's even hired mages an' sent them here to work spells against Belaur's magelords."

"Not one to turn thy back on, for even a quick breath?" Elminster asked wryly, and Helm grinned and nodded.

"Last, there's Nrymm, the youngest. A timid, frail, sullen little brat, as I recall. He was brought up by women of the court after the queen's death, an' may never have stepped outside the gates of Athalgard in his life. He disappeared about four