Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [17]
The wizard's gaze then was even colder than his voice had been.
The swordmaster quailed inwardly and firmly took hold of the stone merlon in front of him to keep from stepping back a pace or two and showing his fear. He dropped his own gaze to the frozen moss clinging to cracks and chips in the stone and wished he were somewhere else. Somewhere warmer, where they'd never heard of wizards.
"I do not recall the king asking for your view of your duties- though I've no doubt he'll be most interested to find how… creatively… they cleave from his own," came the mage's voice, silken-soft now.
The swordmaster forced himself to turn and stare into dark eyes that glittered with malice. " 'Tis your wish then, Lord Mage," he asked, stressing the word just enough that the wizard would know that the swordmaster thought the king a wiser warrior than all his strutting magelords, and would have no such view of his swordmaster's prudence, "that I send more armsmen to patrol from the Horn?"
The wizard hesitated, then as softly as before, asked, "Let me know your wish, Swordmaster. Perhaps we can come to some agreement."
The swordmaster took a deep breath and held those dark, deadly eyes with his own. "Send to the Horn a cutter full of mages, apprentices even, providing that one mage of experience commands them. Twenty armsmen-all I dare spare-ride with them to the Horn, and from there act as necessary to hunt these outlaws with magic and destroy them."
They stared at each other for a long, chill moment, and then, slowly, Magelord Kadeln Olothstar smiled-thinly, but the swordmaster had wondered if the man knew how. "A stout plan, indeed, Swordmaster. I knew we could agree on something this day." He looked north over the snow-clad farms across the river for a moment, then added, "I hope a suitable sledge can be speedily found rather than one that comes not or must be built and finds us still preparing come spring."
The swordmaster pointed down over the battlements with one gauntleted hand. "See the logs there by the mill? One of those cutters beneath 'em can be free by tonight, and a pair of the huts we use to cover the wells lashed atop it before morn."
The wizard smiled softly, a snake contemplating prey that cannot escape. "Then in the morn they'll set out. You shall have twelve mages, Swordmaster-one of them Magelord Landorl Valadarm."
The warrior nodded, wondering privately whether Landorl was a fumbling dolt or someone who had simply earned Kadeln's displeasure. He hoped for the latter. Then this Landorl might at least be useful if the gods-cursed outlaws attacked the cutter.
The two men smiled tightly at each other, there on the battlements, and then both turned their backs deliberately to show they dared to and strode slowly away with a show of casual unconcern. Their every step told the world they were strong men, free of all fear.
The battlements of Sarn Torel stood still and silent, unimpressed, as they would stand when both men were long in their graves. It takes a lot to impress a castle wall.
*****
Elminster was happily blowing on scorched fingers, licking the last scraps of horseflesh from them, when one of the watchers burst into the cavern and gasped out, "Patrol! Found the way in-killed Aghelyn, an' prob'ly more. Some o' them ran straight back to tell where we lair!"
All over the cavern men swore and scrambled to their feet, shouting. Sargeth cut through the din with a bellow. "Crossbows and blades;