Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [64]
"Caladnei!" The dark-haired woman behind the blade was angry. "You've got to stop scaring me like this! I thought this was some archwizard holding you captive, not your own clever illusion!"
"Mreen," the Mage Royal said quickly, holding up a quelling hand. "This is-"
"Oh, gods" the Lady Lord of Arabel gasped, her sword sinking forgotten in her hand.
Elminster had turned around to face her. "Forgotten me so soon, Mreen? And something so basic as an ironguard spell, or-ahem-mine own modifications to it?"
Flecks of gold flashed in Myrmeen Lhal's deep blue eyes as she stared back at him with more than a hint of defiant challenge in her gaze. The white lines of fresh scars crossed on her hands, and one scar adorned a cheek that had been unmarked when last the Old Mage had seen her-but her figure in her leather armor was as trim as ever. Her glossy, almost blue-black hair held no gray-but there were two lines of white at her temples, where there'd been only youthful darkness before.
"El," she said slowly, grounding her blade, "you chase trouble across Faerun like a stormbird. I give you good greeting but with wariness: Why come you here?"
"To see the Crown Princess ye're trying to keep hidden behind thy shapely shoulders," the archmage replied, one corner of his mouth quirking into a smile that was almost hidden by his beard. "Ye should all hear this, mind, for it concerns the realm entire."
"Elminster of Shadowdale," the Steel Regent said calmly from the darkness inside the hill, "be welcome in Cormyr. Come in and unfold the bad news. Wine? Morning broth?"
"Thank ye, but-no. Ye still know how to tempt a man, lass."
Alusair Nacacia grinned. "I should hope so. Fall into a seat- there're plenty."
The princess was tangle-haired and barefoot, evidently just risen from slumber. She wore only a large, fluffy robe, but her sword gleamed ready in her hand. Its scabbard lay upon a round stone table beside her flagon of steaming broth. Elminster sniffed appreciatively then shook his head and sat down. His stomach promptly rumbled.
Alusair grinned again and ladled him his own flagon, as Calad-nei and Myrmeen took seats around the table.
"So talk, wizard," Alusair commanded. Caladnei and Myrmeen both stiffened in apprehension, but Elminster merely chuckled.
"By the first Mystra and the second, but ye sound like thy father, lass!" He stretched, leaned back, and added gruffly, "Ye truly don't want to know what Vangey's been up to, but as Regent ye'd best know anyway, so long as ye've the sense not to tell anyone."
Alusair rolled her eyes and growled in mock anger.
Elminster gave her a grin to match her earlier ones. "Well then, to put it plainly: My onetime pupil and thy former Mage Royal is trying to complete a magical task that's very important to him, ere he dies. Ye might say he's putting the last of his life into it and is fiercely set upon it."
"And this task would be-?" the Steel Regent growled.
"None of ye three need me to remind ye that the Lords Who Sleep bide in armed slumber to guard Cormyr no longer. Well, Vangey seeks to replace them."
Alusair's eyes blazed. "With whom? "
"Dragons. Thy retired Royal Magician seeks to bind some great wyrms in stasis to defend the kingdom of Cormyr against any other attacking dragon, or the whelming of a rebel host, or an invading army from, say, Sembia or from the Zhentarim or some other grasping power."
Shock shone white on three female faces.
"Without telling us?" Alusair barked.
At the same time Myrmeen burst out, "This could imperil the realm as gravely as did the Devil Dragon!"
Caladnei swore, "Mother Mystra! "
Elminster smiled gravely around the table and thrust out his hand to catch hold of Alusair's blade before she could smash it down on the stone table in rage. She struggled against his strength in vain for a trembling, throat-straining moment then sat back dumbfounded.
"Magic," he explained with a wry smile, handing her blade to her. The princess snarled and snatched it up, whirling it back to bring it shattering down on the stone-then