Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [16]
One dark brow arched. "Namelessness is a matter for scorn if there's no good reason-but you must acquaint me with your reason before I'd presume to pass judgment on it. Later, as you say."
She spun away, her slit-to-the-waist gown giving Elminster a brief glimpse of a gem-studded wyvern tattooed high on her thigh-and a complete lack of undergarments-and left Lord Nameless Cormaeril facing a scowling bodyguard… and feeling very warm indeed. Tis these damned magical disguises; they hold the heat so.
* * * * *
Narnra glided to a stop behind another pillar. The guards and servants were growing bored and hungry, and increasingly made little forays out onto the floor to snatch tarts or fancies from platters, ceasing to be so alert for unfolding trouble. Most of them seemed to have been expecting blades drawn between conspirators, anyway, rather than attacks from intruders.
Hmm. There was that tall noble again… tall enough to be the old wizard, yes, but of course spell-guises need not have the stature or bulk of the person using them. Yet most men disliked being shorter than they were used to being and avoided such shapes unless they had good reason to do otherwise-and time for reflection upon the matter.
There were at least three men here who were even taller, but two were hulking bodyguards who looked to have ore blood well back in their ancestry, and they kept to the darkened outer rooms, half-dozing… and the third claimed to be a wizard from Westgate. Would a mage disguising himself be stupid-or vain-enough to make himself into the likeness of… a wizard? Yet wizards were vain, and this shape was far younger and more handsome than the one he'd worn back in the alley. He'd acted the Old Wise One then, but-was this his true shape? He'd been awfully fast on his feet for a white-bearded dodderer, and the Silken Shadow wasn't as clumsy as all that, if she thought so herself.
The tall noble turned his head and seemed to stare right at her. Narnra froze then looked away, leaned back against her pillar, drew her dagger, and pretended to clean and pare her nails with it. Well, he wasn't coming any closer, at least.
The smell of roasted fowl tarts wafted past, and Narnra suddenly found her mouth full-watering. A moment later, her flat stomach added its own growl of protest. Narnra sighed silently, then put away her knife, stepped around the pillar, and strode out into the chattering throng toward the nearest platter. As the saying went: Swords crossed? Then we might as well shatter realms in battle!
She was a stride away when someone grabbed at the platter, and the servant holding it quickly lofted it out of reach. A tart that had been inches from Narnra's fingertips was suddenly several paces away. With a growl that matched the sound her gut was making, the Silken Shadow stalked after it.
* * * * *
With a grin, Elminster turned away. Well, well, his playmate from the alley had been far bolder than he'd given her credit for-and was now finding, as so many farmers gone to be splendid warriors had discovered before her, that there's nothing like the taste of adventure for making the belly feel yawningly empty. Of course, all too often the meal it soon received was a goodly length of sharpened steel, but there was no need to cast down her spirits warning her of that. She was in it, now, with no going back-and by the looks of her, she had realized that for herself already.
In the dim lamplight, Elminster peered about for the noble lass he'd seen dancing earlier, but she was now-perhaps wisely- nowhere to be seen. There was something about her that made him think of fathering little wizards.Ah, well…
Three
THE BRIGHTNESS OF THE LURE
I put out my hand, and the fish swam right into my net- as they always do. It's all in the brightness of the lure you offer.
Fzoul Chembryl, High Lord of the Zhentarim
Conquering What I Want of the World:
Words For All the Brethren to Live By
(text of speech, circulated amongst the Zhentarim)
Year of the Unstrung Harp
Some of the revelers were really