Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [25]
Helm bellowed, "Onthrar! To me!" over his shoulder, and then said, "Join us, then, an' we'll ride 'em down together. There're empty saddles in plenty to spare!"
Elminster shook his head. "My business lies yonder," he said, pointing with a nod of his head toward the unseen camp. "With wizards."
Helm's fierce grin faded. "Are ye ready yet?" he asked quietly. "Really, lad?"
Elminster spread his hands, crossbow in one. "There's one down there, at least, who knows who I am and what I look like."
Helm frowned and nodded, urged his mount forward, and clapped Elminster on the shoulder. "Then I hope to see ye alive again, Prince." As his horse circled, he asked, "Would a wild outlaw charge into camp be any help?"
El shook his head. "Nay, Helm-just ride down those arms-men. If ye get every last one of them, Lawless Castle may be safe for a winter or two yet-so long as all outlaws have the sense to abandon it this summer. When the snows are gone, the wizards'll be sure to scour these hills with all the spells and swords they can muster."
Helm nodded. "Wise talk. Let us meet again among the living." He raised his blade in salute-Elminster lifted his bow in response-and spurred away as the snow began to fall again.
Soft flakes drifted down endlessly. Elminster ate a handful of snow to get a drink, recovered his bows and readied them, and set out over the hills toward the camp. He walked in a wide curve to the right, hoping to come on it from the other side… though with spells, couldn't wizards see in all directions?
Well, no doubt they run out of magic the same way armsmen run out of quarrels. He'd just have to count on their not scrying for a lone boy on foot in the snows. If he saw this night through, El reflected, he'd owe the gods much, indeed…
*****
Tripods of halberds held the flickering storm-lanterns high. Snow whirled endlessly down into their bright radiance where, at the heart of the camp, the wizard Caladar Thearyn frowned down at a sphere of glowing light that hung in the air before him. Though the night was cold, sweat beaded his brow from the effort of keeping the sphere in existence-and in a breath or two, he'd have to hold it together while he cast another spell into it… a spell of many leaping lightnings that, if he managed the casting, would burst forth from the distant sphere linked to this one, a sphere bobbing like a pale ghost over the snow-clad hills not far away, just in front of the hard-riding outlaw band.
The magelord muttered the incantation that would link the two spells and felt the power rising within him. He spread his hands in exultation and noted without looking the awed faces and hasty retreat of his bodyguards.
He almost grinned as he began calling up the lightnings. Two intricate gestures, a grand flourish, and the speaking of a single word. Now for the taking up of the pins, then a rub of the rod of crystal with the fur, and last, the crowning incantation… His hand swept down.
The crossbow bolt intended for his heart struck him in the shoulder, numbing his arm and spinning him around. The sphere collapsed in a crackling burst of lightnings that drowned out the magelord's startled scream of pain. The wizard sank down, clutching at his shoulder as another quarrel hissed past him. An armsman flung himself headlong in the well-trodden snow to avoid it, and his fellows drew their blades and ran toward the source of the quarrels.
Coolly, Elminster watched them come, his last bow raised. There, as he suspected… out of a tent came another robed man; not much older than he was but with a wand in his hand, looking around for the source of all the commotion. Carefully Elminster put his last ready quarrel in the man's throat. Then he dropped his bow, unbuckled the bulky belt-box of quarrels and let it fall, and drew his own steel.
Angry armsmen were rushing to meet him. Elminster charged them, a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. The first man tried to beat his blade aside and run him through, but Elminster locked their blades together, pushed until they were face to face, steel shrieking