Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [89]
The door that links that turret room to a corner of the top floor of the Palace stands open-and guarded by four veteran Purple Dragons-at all times. The turret had for some years been an abandoned dovecote before the coming of Caladnei but was now a place much used by the Mage Royal to think and pace and gaze out over courtyard and gardens, and think some more.
Caladnei of Cormyr (as she pointedly preferred to be spoken of) often teleported into and out of her turret room-but she'd never been known to do so in the company of anyone else before, and the guards were quite startled to suddenly hear the deep, hearty laugh of a fearless old man from behind them.
They whirled around, spearpoints glittering, and gaped at what they saw: the Mage Royal embracing a hawk-nosed, white-bearded old man in dirty robes. Caladnei was weeping softly, and the old wizard-whom more than one of the old warriors had seen before-cradled her shoulders with a protective arm, saying softly, "There, there, lass. 'Tis overwhelming, aye, but a sight all mages should see in their lives before they've too much time to do foolish things unmindful of the glory we all share."
"Uh… Lady Caladnei?" one of the guards asked uncertainly, lifting his spear to menace the old man.
"Lord Elminster! " the eldest of the guards said delightedly, clapping a hand to his breastplate in salute. The gesture was echoed by the guard beside him, as the other two Purple Dragons turned to gape at their fellows… then turned back in horrified slowness to gaze at the old man they were menacing.
Bright blue eyes gazed at them from under dark brows, and the Old Mage nodded, winked, and lifted a finger to his lips to request their silence ere gesturing down at the sobbing woman in his arms. The two guards who'd saluted him nodded and pushed aside the spears of their fellows, silently withdrawing a pace. Elminster gave them an approving nod.
"T-thank you, Lord Elm-"
"El,please, lass. Just 'El.' Or 'Old Mage' if ye want to scold me." He took hold of the Mage Royal's slender shoulders and stood her back a pace, to look gravely into her tear-bright face. "How do ye feel?"
Caladnei managed a smile, and then swiftly looked away… then, deliberately, back up at him.
"Sobered. Shaken. And, may I say, vastly more respectful of you and of Vangerdahast, too, damn him. I… thank you. That was… magnificent."
"Much to think upon, eh?" Elminster reached out two long fingers to touch her forehead. "This much I can do: make sure nothing fades of this. Ye'll remember everything we saw, vividly, whenever ye call it to mind. This shall be with ye always."
Caladnei shook her head wonderingly. "What a… a…"
Elminster chuckled. "Storm called it a 'whirlwind tour,' but I've shown ye but a handful of highlights from all this vast and wonderful world of ours. 'Twas time for ye. Ye needed it to set in perspective this fair land ye guard and to temper thy rage with Vangey. Know ye this: When I took him to see the same things, he wept even more than ye have, begged forgiveness for his rudenesses, and told me he was shamed."
"I-I feel I should do the same," Caladnei said with an unsteady laugh, ducking her head and looking up at him again.
Elminster recoiled. "What? And rob thyself of the chance to get in some really good rudenesses to me, first?"
The sorceress burst into startled laughter and clung to the old man's robes for support. He hugged her fondly then-the eyes of the watching Purple Dragons narrowed-reached down to his belt, fishing around in a pouch there for something.
Cormyrean hands clapped dagger-hilts, tightened, and… fell away unneeded, as Elminster's hand reappeared holding a length of fine chain. He held it out where the Mage Royal could see it, waited for her to notice it, and said gruffly, "Yours, lass. An anklet. Nothing valuable, but-wear it. Now and always. If ye feel the need, and say the word 'amulamystra' while wearing it, I will come."
Wondering, Caladnei closed her hand around