Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [65]
Farl smiled. "You know we have to go for those stones."
Elminster shook his head. "Ye couldn't turn thy back on them and still be Farl, Master of the Velvet Hands," he said dryly.
Farl chuckled.
"This time," Elminster told him firmly, "ye should wait, let the Moonclaws spring the trap-and go in only if ye can see a safe, clear way to do so."
"Trap?"
"Don't ye smell the hands of calculating wizards in this wondrous tale? I do."
After a moment, Farl nodded. Their eyes met.
"Why did you say 'ye'?" Farl asked quietly.
"I am done with thieving," Elminster said slowly. "If ye go after these wonderful magical stones, ye must do it alone. I'll be leaving Hastarl after I do one thing more."
Farl stood frozen, eyes very dark. "Why?"
"Robbing and slaying hurts folk I have no quarrel with and brings revenge no closer to the magelords. You saw the stag statue; the grasping hands of thieving only take what's precious and make it battered and broken and worthless. I've learned as much as the street can teach and have had enough." Elminster stared into Farl's stunned eyes and added, "Seasons slip away- and the things I've not done eat at me. I must leave."
"I knew it was coming," Farl admitted, his face going very red. "It's the scruples that assured it. But this 'one thing more'- 'twouldn't be a betrayal, would it?"
Elminster shook his head and spoke slowly and deliberately. "I've never had a friend as close and as true as Farl, son of Hawklyn."
Suddenly their arms were around each other in a tight embrace. They stood in the alley and wept, pounding each other on backs and shoulders.
After a time, Farl said, "Ah, El-what'm I to do without you?"
"Take up with Tassabra," Elminster said, and added with a gleam in his eye, "Ye can show her appreciation in a more satisfying way than ye can with me."
They stepped back from each other-and then, slowly, both grinned.
"So we part," Farl said, shaking his head. "Half our wealth is yours."
Elminster shrugged. "I'll take only what I need, for the road."
Farl sighed. "So it's loot for me-and killing magelords for you."
"Mayhap," Elminster said softly, "if the gods are kind."
Seven
THE ONE TRUE SPELL
In ancient days, sorcerers sought to learn the One True Spell that would give them power over all the world and understanding of all magic. Some said they'd found it, but such men were usually dismissed as crazed.
I saw one of these "crazed" mages myself. He could ignore spells cast at him as if they did not exist, or work any magic himself by silent thought alone. I did not think he was mad-but at peace, driven by urges and vices no longer. He told me the One True Spell was a woman, that her name was Mystra-and that her kisses were wonderful.
Halivon Tharnstar, Avowed of Mystra
Tales Told To A Blind Wizard
Year of the Wyvern
The night was warm and still. Elminster took a deep breath and counted out most of what Farl had insisted he take. He owed a debt… and besides, the other matter he meant to see to this night would probably kill him. Then it would be too late to pay any debts.
When he was done, he was looking at a heap of coins-a hundred regals, bright in the moonlight. In the sun, come morn, they'd blaze their true gold color… but he'd probably not be around to see them, one way or another.
Elminster shrugged. At least his life was his own again, and he was free to pursue any folly he desired. So, of course, he reflected wryly, here he was, bent on one last thiefly act. He slung the coins together in the sack-tight, so they'd not clink-and set off over the rooftops in search of a certain bedchamber.
The shutters were open to let in any breezes that might drift by, to cool a sleeping bridal couple whose furnishings failed by far to match those of the Trumpettowers. Elminster had been delighted to hear of their betrothal,