Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [127]
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Narnra rolled her eyes as she dropped down from yet another window. Gods, what a lot of petty little bickering, arrogance, and rivalries! These War Wizards were almost as bad as Waterdhavian nobles!
Almost.Bane come striding, if this was what the lawkeepers were like, what might the nobles of Cormyr have to offer?
"Who was that idiot who said, 'Always more treasure beyond the next hill'?" she muttered aloud-then froze again on all fours on a potted-fern-crowded balcony as two War Wizards strolled out to stand at the rail not four paces away, laughing cynically.
"Well, I always knew Old Thundersides wouldn't let go his grip on the throne all that easily!"
"Dragons! After all the blood elves shed to snatch this land away from being the private hunting-ground of various wyrms! I can't believe it!"
"I can. Who else sleeps for centuries, anyway? Who else can last so long and still be alive instead of undead and hating the living? Who else in Cormyr could he trust? Our nobles'?"
The two shared a bitter, derisive crow of laughter. The second robed mage shook his head and replied, "Who can truly trust a dragon? What must they think of us humans who butcher, steal from them, take their eggs, and… sweep them aside, where once they ruled all Faerun?"
The taller, older wizard shrugged. " 'Twas the elves did that to them-oh, and that cult among the hobgoblins that thought eating dragonflesh would make them into a larger, stronger breed… they used to take more eggs than humans ever have."
"D'you think old Vangey will snatch some eggs and try to hatch wyrmlings he's bound and brainwashed with spells?"
"Mayhap," the older War Wizard replied, turning away from the rail to walk back inside, "but he needs grown ones, too. Wyrmlings are like ignorant but recklessly overconfident youths-and can do about as much unintended damage to themselves, as well as to whatever they're supposed to be protecting."
Miraculously, the two mages didn't notice the rock-still thief crouched on her fingertips. Narnra let out a long, slow breath as quietly as she could, gathered in air, and sprang forward and over the balcony rail.
Vangerdahast's secret was out. Spellbound dragons to guard Cormyr! So she'd found Duskwinter, and that jovial trim-bearded one in the bath earlier had been Bathtar Flamegallow-more interested in floating carved little wooden ships than anything else, that one, but his jokes had certainly been amusing. Calaethe Hallowthorn was out near some place called Jester's Green-and was being out and about in the countryside suspicious? She knew too little about these War Wizards to judge-but the other woman she was to watch over, Iymeera Juthbuck, was a bit of a wildcat when it came to strong adventurers, if the rather catty War Wizard gossip could be believed-and what did the Harpers think of all this, anyway? Had Rhauligan told any of them?
Ah, this was the place. Dark My Harp Yet Flaming. Gods, what a name!
Narnra paused on a rooftop, peering down at the old, ramshackle club. It had once been a grand mansion, by the looks of it, before later owners had grown it wooden side-wings in all directions. Well, at least no din of bad minstrelry was clawing her ears from this distance, at least.
With a shock she realized that no less than three sentinels were watching her-one from a tiny moon-window in the club roof and the others from different buildings on either side of her.
To her relief, the one on the nearest building gave her a curt nod as their eyes met. She responded with a grave wave of her hand and proceeded down to the street to enter the club openly. If she'd been seen anyway, it'd be best not to risk any bowfire.
The wig she'd "borrowed" through an open window a few frantic hours back was slipping again, but she needn't have bothered with any attempt at stealth. Dark My Harp Yet Flaming was dimly lit, crowded, casually cozy, and-no music, thankfully-a-bubble with talk of nothing else but Vangerdahast's plan.
"Gods, man, we'll be crotch-deep