Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [107]
Irreph stood looking down at the body for a long time, chain clenched in his hand for another blow, but the mage called Stormcloak did not move again.
Silence fell as dalefolk and councillors left off trying to kill each other. The high constable finally lifted his head and looked slowly around the room as if seeing it for the first time. His gaze fell on the Old Mage, who knelt clutching the wrist of a blackened, broken hand.
"My thanks, Elminster," Irreph said thickly, "for giving me my home back again. We must feast together, later." And with a rattle of chains, he collapsed atop the body of the wizard who had dared to usurp his post.
Elminster shook his head to clear the pain and started the long crawl to where Sharantyr lay. Her eyes had opened again, and the smile creeping onto her face was glorious to see.
"Hurry up and heal, lass," Elminster growled as he drew near. "I'm in fair need of that ring meself"
From atop the table Belkram said, "Drop your weapons, councillors, if you would live. All who fight on will be declaring themselves Zhentarim… and will know their fate soon, and painfully."
As he looked coldly down at the councillors, dalefolk encircled them with weapons ready, and Itharr struggled to his feet.
The trapped men looked around the room, and steel clattered to the stones as councillor after councillor held up empty hands.
Belkram waved his sword at the chairs around the table. "Sit," he suggested. "I'm sure the high constable will have some words for you before long."
Through the open doors there came the ring of steel on steel, running feet, and a short, cut-off scream.
Gedaern looked up at Belkram and said, "We can guard these-and Irreph, the gods bless him. Go hunting Wolves, Harper." He grinned and looked over many sprawled bodies. 'The pair of you certainly seem to have the hang of it."
Belkram looked back at him and smiled rather sadly. "It seems that way, doesn't it?" he replied softly, and looked to his comrade-at-arms. "Itharr?"
"Here," Itharr said grimly, rubbing at parts of him that hurt. "I-I'll be with you, ready to end this slaughter… if you get down off that table slowly and give me time to catch my breath."
From somewhere nearby in the castle came a wild yell, a clash of weapons, and another scream-this one long and lingering.
The two Harpers exchanged glances as Belkram's feet found the floor. "By the sounds of it," he replied, shouldering his way warily through the councillors, "there may be no Zhent Wolves left to see to."
Itharr only grunted. He limped as they started back across the great hall, but they were both trotting, blades in hand, as they went out into the passage.
Ulraea stared after them. "They seem more like things of iron and untiring magic than men."
"They're men," Gedaern told her with a light in his eyes. He hefted the weapon in his hands and stared at the doors the two had left by. "More than that-they're Harpers."
* * * * *
"Better, lass?"
"It's 'Shar,' remember?" Sharantyr reminded him with a mock severe look.
Elminster spread innocent hands. "I'm an old man, lass-Shar. I forget things, like all old men." He looked her slowly up and down as if seeing her for the first time. By the time his gaze rose again to meet her own, Sharantyr found herself blushing.
"Ye look whole now," he added. "What say ye?"
Sharantyr smiled ruefully and handed him the ring. "Well enough, Old Mage. Your turn."
Elminster put the ring on his finger and said briskly, "Good. I prefer to heal while I'm up and doing. Come." He plucked at her arm and set off for the doors at a steady stride.
Sharantyr followed. Behind them, Gedaern shouted,
"Hey!"
Elminster did not pause. Sharantyr looked back. "Both of you," Gedaern said. "You heard the Harper!
Hold!"
Elminster turned at the door, and said, "Guard those councillors well, as he bid ye, young man. I've other business to see to yet." And he was gone.
" 'Young man'?" Gedaern sputtered angrily. Sharantyr spread apologetic hands and followed the Old Mage.
One of the councillors watching them go frowned thoughtfully