Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [84]
A blackened torso fell to the balcony, trailing thin plumes of smoke, and the cause of its owner's death towered over it.
"Tell the gods," a great hissing voice informed the ears that were no longer there to hear anything, "that you were slain by Amma-ratha Cyndusk, a foolish dragon-but one not nearly so foolish as the humans who thought to slay her."
Thirteen
BUSINESS MEETINGS, BATHS, AND
SUBVERSIONS
Looking back over all the years, I can't decide just which memories are most important to me: the slayings, the midnight meetings of plotting treasons and rule over all the Realms, the few fumbling moments of lovemaking, or the even fewer really hot, uninterrupted, contented baths. I can still recall the little floating dragon bathtoy my aunt gifted me with, one spring…
Thamdarl "the Wizard Unseen" From Tyrant's Throne to the Arms of a Goddess:
My Road To Mystra
Year of the Broken Blade
The carpet was as soft as tomb-moss under her boots. The tomb-moss of the City of the Dead… which was right where Narnra Shalace would end up, or at least in the Marsemban equivalent-one of the canals for all she knew!-if she didn't get clean away from here.
By Mask and Tymora, of all the deadly foolish mistakes… literally leaping into this unknown mansion, full of nobles plotting treason and lady mages who spoke so casually of shattering spells laid covertly by others who'd just left… or had they really left?
Flaming fury of Mask! She had to get away from here, had to…
Narnra went down that dark and unfamiliar passage like a racing wind, as stealthily as she could at full run, trusting in its straight, uncluttered path to keep from crashing into anything. Statuettes and plants on marble pedestals occurred often on both sides, but the central rug stretched out clear and arrow-straight, on into the darkness, on to… an ending.
The wall ahead was adorned with a huge statue, pale white and gleaming. An elf female standing amid sculpted ferns like a queen-if, that is, queens went outside wearing nothing but their crowns and haughty expressions-with various naked male elves entwined around her legs and torso, long whipswords in their hands. Their faces, like hers, stared endlessly down the passage in eternal challenge. To either side of this great carved group of elvenkind was a closed door. Narnra drew in a deep breath and without hesitation opened the one to her right as quietly as she could. It opened into-darkness, and steps leading down. Thank you, gods!
As she crept down the unseen steps in a crouch, fingertips brushing one wall, Narnra shook her head. A Red Wizard conspiring against the Crown of Cormyr with this Lady Ambrur! Oh, there must be folk in Suzail who'd pay well to learn about this! Why-
Something caught hold of Narnra's throat and slammed her back against the wall. It was a hand, reaching brutal and unseen out of the darkness below her-and a second hand dug brutal fingers into her elbows and slammed them against the wall too, one after the other, leaving her arms all fiery numbness.
She couldn't snatch at her daggers, couldn't… The hands were at her throat and the scruff of her neck, now, dragging her leathers up in a grip that left her whistling and struggling for air.
"You, my little hare with long teeth," the voice of Glarasteer Rhauligan muttered in her ear, "are coming with me."
Narnra's head swam, and she struggled weakly as deeper darkness crept in… but the fingers never loosened.
* * * * *
The heavy, jarring fall woke her. She was hooded in something that smelled of sweaty man and jolted on Rhauligan's shoulders. The Harper grunted under Narnra's weight, stifled a curse then added in a curt whisper, "Sorry."
Apologizing?