Realms of Shadow - Lizz Baldwin [102]
"Oh, yes, I do," Myrmeen Lhal replied fervently. "Were it not for the peril their recklessness and treasonous ambitions would bring down upon us, with the Stone-lands so close and this new dark magic outdoing the Zhents, I'd press you to agree to my old pet plan."
It was Laspeera's turn to chuckle. "Clap all our courtiers in armor and ship them out to you, to work their hands dirty and face war-fear and hear a few harsh orders? Don't think we haven't been tempted."
"So do it," the commander of Arabel said. "If I make loyal and useful men out of half a dozen courtiers and die in the doing, that's six replacements for one down-and a lesson that might just cow the rest into keeping mute and out of the way, lest they be Volunteered' to follow."
"And lose Arabel again?" Filfaeril asked gently. "How many good men would pay the price of winning it back even one more time?"
Myrmeen nodded, took a long drink from her goblet, and said, "Right enough, your see. Gods damn, Filfaeril, but I just can't call you"
"Oh, yes, you can," Filfaeril said, sudden iron in her voice. "Courtiers down here call me 'the Whore of Ice' behind my back, just loud enough to make sure I hear, and I was 'Lonelybed Longtresses' for years to throw Azoun's amours in my face, and I'll be flayed on the altars of Loviatar before one of my few true friends can't call me by my own fate."
"Don't let the lords who linger at Court hear you use that expression," Laspeera said with another chuckle. "So few ideas fall into their heads as it is."
Filfaeril rolled her eyes. "So true. I've tried dropping choice phrases where their spies can overhear, to start them thinking, and all they do is wonder what I meant-aloud and over drink after drink, until they get the words all wrong and twist what they thought I meant all around-and I have to watch Lous fight down the urge to strangle them barehanded, one more time."
It was Myrmeen's turn to chuckle. "Doth the Steel Regent's temper grow… more tempered?"
The queen sighed. "Yes, more credit to her, yet being away from the saddle and the sword and her young lords to fence with smiling lies every day… I can see it building in her. Someone, someday soon, is going to say one wrong word or do something small and only slightly offensive-and the storm inside Lous is going to break." "It won't be the only thing in the realm to break that day, I doubt not," the commander of Arabel agreed. "But I fear I waste too much of your time, Fee. You should know some other things, of events up here." The queen nodded and smiled.
"Speak."
"Sightings of terrified Zhents fleeing out of the Stonelands," Myrmeen replied. "Oh, yes, hard to believe, but I saw some myself. They've apparently been babbling about great magical battles, therein, between mighty wizards and horrible flying beasts."
A royal eyebrow lifted. "Apparently?"
"So the jailers say, and they're good ones. I’ll make tune tomorrow to question the lone live captive we have." Laspeera had been watching the Lady Lord of Arabel intently through the crystal.
"That was your better news," she said quietly. "Now tell us the rest."
Myrmeen held up one scarred, long-fingered hand. "Just one thing, gods be thanked for small mercies. Our patrols have scoured the east."
"And?" The queen's voice was as gentle as if she'd been soothing a crying child.
"Tilverton is gone," Myrmeen said bluntly. "Truly, utterly gone."
"Destroyed," Filfaeril murmured. It was not a question. The Lady Lord of Arabel nodded sadly back at her through the scrying-glass, as the queen sighed, threw back her head, and added evenly, "Thank you, Mreen. It's good to hear truth, and not…"
"Courtiers' honeyed words," Laspeera said quietly. "Our thanks, Myrmeen. Get some sleep."
The Lady Lord of Arabel gave them a wry smile and a derisive grunt together. This was my sleep, ladies. Gods keep you well, and Cormyr better." She raised her goblet in salute, swung her legs back down to the floor, took up her sword-and the crystal went dark.
"Gods keep you, Mreen," the queen said quietly, staring