Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [171]
"But-why?" Helm asked in disbelief. "Why give up yer throne?"
Elminster laughed, traded glances again with Myrjala, and said, "I'm a mage, now, and proud of it. Sorcery is… well, it feels right to me. Working with it is what I do, and was meant to do. I'll have little time for the care a realm needs, and even less patience for intrigue and pomp." He smiled crookedly and added, "More than this: I think Athalantar's had enough of wizards ruling things for a long time."
Heartfelt murmurs of agreement were heard all around the chamber, as the doors burst open and a band of ruffians stared into the chamber, swords glittering in their hands. Farl and Tassabra stood at the head of the thieves of the Velvet Hand. El waved merrily to them; Helm shook his head, as if seeing troubles in the days ahead, sighed-and then, as if he could not stop himself, smiled.
"There is one thing we would like before we go," Myrjala purred as she stepped up to them both.
Helm eyed her warily. "Aye, Lady?"
"A feast, of course. If you're of like mind, I'll work a spell that forces all cold iron out of this hall, so that none need fear weapons-even arrows-here tonight, and we can all make merry!"
Helm stared at her. Then he suddenly threw back his head and shouted with laughter. "Of course," he roared," 'tis the least I can do!"
Mithtyn was pushing through the crowd toward them, leading a young, trembling page, who bore the crown of Athalantar on a cushion. Elminster smiled, took up the circlet with a bow, and placed it on Helm's head. Then he cried, "Kneel, folk of Athalantar, before Helm Stoneblade, Lord of Athalantar, King of the Stag Throne!" There was a thunder of movement as everyone in the hall-except Elminster and Myrjala-knelt.
Helm bowed his head, grinned at the two of them in thanks, and clapped his hands. "Rise, all!" he roared. "Bring food and wine and tables! Call out the minstrels from all over this city, and let us make merry!" His men threw down their swords and roared back their approval, and the great chamber was suddenly full of happy, shouting people. They wavered in Elminster's sight… and he found his face was wet with tears again. "Mother… Father…" he whispered, unheard in the tumult, "I have done the right thing."
Myrjala's arms were suddenly around him, warm and comforting, and he leaned his face into her bosom and wept. It is a glorious thing to be free at last.
*****
More food had vanished than Helm had thought possible. He grinned around at snoring folk sprawled on the benches… and his smile broadened as he looked down the carpet to where most of his men were dancing, whirling flush-faced lasses of Hastarl around the floor as weary minstrels played on and on. Among them, the dark-eyed sorceress who'd accompanied Elminster was treading the measures, dancing with first one of his men and then another. She still looked as fresh and as serene as if she were a queen newly arrived from her chambers of a morning.
There on the floor, as they whirled and stepped to the music, a stubbled and dirty warrior bowed over Myrjala's hand and turned her through the intricate steps of the sarad. As he dipped past her, he asked curiously, "Lady, I mean no offence- but why did ye not kneel to the new king?"
"I kneel to no man, Anauviir," Myrjala said and smiled. "If you would know why, ask Mithtyn in the morning."
She left the warrior wondering how she knew his name, and turned away through the dancing folk to find Mithtyn.
He was standing with most of the older folk by the pillars, watching the dance. As she glided toward him out of the whirling dancers, the old man went pale and turned to hasten away, but found himself surrounded by folk pressed forward for a good look. He had nowhere to go.
Myrjala took him firmly by the hand. "After your praise for my dancing, you don't want to measure this floor with me? I'm hurt, brave Mithtyn! You'll not escape me tonight!"
There were chuckles and half-jealous, half-teasing words from the folk standing around as the sorceress dragged the old herald out into the