Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [120]
She didn't feel ready to move even yet. "Mystra, watch over me," she murmured, and sank again into slumber…
*****
"Gods above!"
The awe-struck voice jerked her awake. Elmara turned her head.
The bearded head of an astonished farmer was staring at her from an arm's reach away, a candle-lantern trembling in his hand. She struggled not to laugh at his expression; she supposed she'd look something like that if she found a lass wearing only a cloak and boots and lying in her hay-loft. He handled it well, she thought.
As she burst into helpless giggles, he wiped a hand nervously across his mouth, found it was open, closed it, and cleared his throat with the same sort of sound sheep made in the meadow above Heldon. Fresh giggling seized Elmara.
The farmer blinked at her, clearly finding her mirth almost as startling as her presence, and said, "Uh… er… aghumm. Fair even, uh… lass."
"Fair fortune to this farm and all in it," she said formally, rolling over to face him. Redness stole across his face, and he dragged his eyes reluctantly away and hastily descended the ladder.
Oh, aye-these. Elmara pulled the cloak over herself and rolled up to one knee to peer over the edge of the loft. The farmer looked up at her as if he expected her to change shape of a sudden into some sort of forest cat and leap down on him. He caught up a pitchfork and brandished it uncertainly.
"Wh-Who are you, lass? How came you here? Are… are you… all right?"
The slim, sharp-nosed lady smiled wanly down at him, and said, "I am an enemy of the magelords. Hide me, if you will."
The farmer stared at her in horror, gulped, drew himself up, and said, "Ye'll be as safe here as I can make it." Then he added awkwardly, "If there's anything I… or my men… can do… uh, we daren't fight them, with their magic an' all…"
Elminster smiled at him. "Ye've given me shelter and friendly words, and for me that's enough. It's all most of us need, and lack, in Athalantar."
The man grinned up at her suddenly, as delighted and proud as if she'd knighted him, and shifted his feet. "Be back, Lady," he said hesitantly.
"Tell no one I'm here!" Elmara hissed urgently.
The farmer nodded vigorously and went out. Not long after, he returned with a cup of fresh milk, an end of bread, and a slab of cheese.
"Did anyone see ye?" Elmara asked, chin on the edge of the loft.
The farmer shook his head. "Think you I want armsmen or magelords crawling all over my farm, burning down what they don't tear apart, and using magic to make me tell things? No fear, lass!"
Elmara thanked him. He didn't see her hand, glowing with gathered fire inside her cloak, fade again to its normal appearance. "Gods keep ye this night," she said huskily, moved.
The man shifted his feet, bowed a little in embarrassment, and answered, "An' ye, lass. An' ye." He gave her the raised-hand salute that men in fields use, one to another, and hurried out.
When he was gone, Elmara clutched the cloak to her and stared out the loft window, eyes very bright. She watched the moon riding high in the sky, and thought about… many things.
She was gone from there before dawn-just in case.
*****
Her way west had been swift, as she fled to get well away from any report of her. Far Torel was emptying of troops, the armsmen returning to safer posts to the south. It seemed the magelords' plans to spill elven blood were abandoned… for now at least. That news gave Elmara great satisfaction as she went, earning blisters she healed when she could bear them no more.
She traveled mainly at dawn and at dusk, across country. When she turned north toward Heldon, she found her way blocked by several encampments of armsmen, and a band of magelings being trained by several watchful magelords-and with a weary sigh, decided to go west into the Haunted Vale, and try to reach the High Forest from that direction. She'd never thought fighting magelords