Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [63]
"Mage Royal, forgive me," one of the older men said gravely, "but-"
"My mind is my own, thanks, Velvorn. I'm neither enchanted nor coerced by my guest, here. He has merely reminded me of my duty to Cormyr. Please go."
Leather breeches landed in Caladnei's lap, and a tunic struck her face a moment later. Velvorn lingered for a breath or two longer, perhaps to enjoy either the scenery or the sight of a Royal Magician catching clothes with her face, then wheeled around and started to shoo away all the War Wizards who'd crowded into the doorway to stare.
When he was done, he turned on the threshold with a clear question in his eyes-but closed the door at an imperious gesture from the Mage Royal.
Caladnei sighed. "Well, my loyal mages will certainly be able to recognize me now from any angle, with or without clothes."
Elminster turned from the wardrobe with a vest in his hands and grunted, "My apologies, lass. Sometimes haste is needful, and I didn't want to harm or humiliate dozens of War Wizards trying to get to you, a few hours hence." He shook out the vest, laid it on the bed, and turned his back. "I see ye're wise enough to keep thy hair gathered, so as to get up and about the swifter."
"I was too tired to remember to take it off," Caladnei admitted, reaching up to touch the ribbon at the back of her neck. She rose from the bed, long-limbed and slender. "No underclout?"
Elminster shrugged. "Ladies never wore them in my day."
Caladnei arched an eyebrow. "That tells me more about the company you kept, Lord Elminster, than it does about fashion-all those centuries ago, when you still looked at ladies."
The Old Mage chuckled, back still turned, but several un-derthings gently floated off a wardrobe shelf and past him. Caladnei selected one with the dry observation, "Ah, I see you know what they look like."
"I observe women still. Ladies, not so many."
The Mage Royal made a rude sound, dressed in whispering haste-a belt floated into her hand just as she found herself lacking it-and asked, "Should I take wands, expecting battle?"
"Nay. If ye should need them where we're going next, 'tis more than mere treason the realm need worry about."
Caladnei laid a tentative hand on Elminster's shoulder-then snatched it back. The Old Mage turned. "Fear ye'll catch something?"
The Mage Royal's eyes were doe-brown once more. "No," she replied. "I… I just wanted to touch you and live to tell the tale. Some say you're…"
"Afire with Mystra's power? A rotting lien whose joints crackle with sorcery? A shapeshifting, counterfeit creature who devoured the real Elminster long ago? Those're usually the most popular rumors."
Caladnei blushed, and then lifted her chin. "I've heard all of those, yes. Where are you taking me?"
"Stag Steads."
The Mage Royal arched the same eyebrow that had lifted before then turned to one of her bedposts, did something that swung aside a little curved door to reveal a cavity, drew forth two wands in a scabbard that she strapped to her forearm, and turned back to fix Elminster with a defiant look.
The Old Mage merely shrugged. "Ye must do what ye think wisest." He reached out his hand to her.
Caladnei eyed him. "The wisest thing to do now," she said calmly, "would be to flee you, not take your hand."
Elminster nodded. "True." He took a step closer and offered his hand again. With a sigh, she took it-and was instantly elsewhere.
An elsewhere that sported many leaves, dappled in the bright light of dawn. Caladnei blinked and stared all around, knowing by the view that she stood on a back porch of the hunting lodge in the heart of the King's Forest.
"How did you do that? No word nor gesture-" A round door set deep into the moss-covered bank behind them burst open, and a blade thrust out through it-straight through Elminster. Twice it thrust then slashed sideways, cutting freely through the Old Mage