Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [8]
"Where will ye go now?"
Elminster shrugged. "I was going to stay here," he said bitterly, "and eat sheep."
Helm's eyes met the young, angry gaze calmly. "A change of plans must needs be in order, then. Shall I save ye one to get ye started?"
Sudden rage rose up inside Elminster at that. "Thief!" he snarled, backing away. "Thief!"
The man shrugged. "I've been called worse."
Elminster found his hands were trembling; he thrust them and the ruined sword back into the front of his jerkin. Helm stood across the only way out. If there were a rock large enough…
"You'd not be so calm if there were knights of Athalantar near! They kill brigands, you know," Elminster said, biting off his words as he'd heard his father do when angry, putting a bark of authority in his tone.
The response astonished him. There was a sudden scuffling of boots on rock, and the man had him by the throat, one worn old gauntlet bunching up the jerkin under Elminster's nose. "I am a knight of Athalantar, boy-sworn to the Stag King himself, gods and goddesses watch over him. If there weren't so gods-cursed many wizards down in Hastarl, kinging it over the lot of us with the hired brigands they call 'loyal armsmen,' I'd be riding a realm at peace-an' doubtless ye'd still have a home, an' thy folks an' neighbors'd be alive!"
The old gray eyes burned with an anger equal to Elminster's own. El swallowed but looked steadily into them.
"If ye're a true knight," he said, "then let go."
Warily, with a little push that left them both apart, the man did so. "Right, then, boy-why?"
Elminster dragged out the sword hilt again and held it up. "Recognize ye this?" he said, voice wavering.
Helm squinted at it, shook his head-and then froze. "The Lion Sword," he said roughly. "It should be in Uthgrael's tomb. How came you by it, boy?" He held out his hand for it.
Elminster shook his head and thrust the ruined stub of blade back into his jerkin. " 'Tis mine-it was my father's, and…" he fought down a tightness of unshed tears in his throat, and went on "… and I think he died wielding it, yestereve."
He and Helm stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, and then El asked curiously, "Who's this Uthgrael? Why would he be buried with my father's sword?"
Helm was staring at him as if he had three heads, and a crown on each one. "I'll answer that, lad, if ye'll tell me thy father's name first." He leaned forward, eyes suddenly dark and intent.
Elminster drew himself up proudly and said, "My father is- was-Elthryn Aumar. Everyone called him the uncrowned lord of Heldon."
Helm let out his breath in a ragged gasp. "Don't-don't tell anyone that, lad," he said quickly. "D'ye hear?"
"Why?" Elminster said, eyes narrowing. "I know my father was someone important, and he-" His voice broke, but he snarled at his own weakness and went on "-he was killed by a wizard with two wands, who rode on the back of a dragon. A dark red dragon." His eyes became bleak. "I shall never forget what they look like." He drew out what was left of the Lion Sword again, made a thrusting motion with it, and added fiercely, "One day…"
He was startled to see the dirty knight grin-not a sneering grin, but a smile of delight.
"What?" El demanded, suddenly embarrassed. He thrust the blade out of sight again. "What amuses ye so?"
"Lad, lad," the man said gently, "sit down here." He sheathed his own sword and pointed at a rock not far away. Elminster eyed him warily, and the man sighed, sat down himself, and unclipped a stoppered trail-flask of chased metal from his belt. He held it out. "Will ye drink?"
Elminster eyed it. He was very thirsty, he realized suddenly. He took a step nearer. "If ye give me some answers," he said, "and promise not to slay me."
Helm regarded him almost with respect and said, "Ye have my word on it-the word of Helm Stoneblade, knight of the Stag Throne." He cleared his throat and said, "An' answers I'll give, too, if ye'll favor me with just one more." He leaned forward. "What is thy name?"
"Elminster Aumar, son of Elthryn."
"Only son?"
"Enough," Elminster