Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [109]
"Lass, we've no defense against magic anymore," he said, holding up his blackened hand. "With the people roused, and the Harpers and Cormyrean agents I recognized among them, the Zhentarim cannot hope to hold this dale any longer and dare not try to openly seize control of it, not with so many Zhentish coins owed to Sembian merchants right now."
One foot found what he was seeking. The Old Mage nodded again and went on. "Our work here is done. I'd as soon be gone before some Zhent mageling or other finds us and decides to enhance his reputation by blasting Elminster of Shadowdale into little wisps of smoke."
Sharantyr raised her eyebrows. "Another gate?"
Elminster nodded. "Very old, spell-shielded-and just beside the cesspool, where no Zhent or other high-and-mighty mage would ever get dirty enough to look for it. If we find it now, Mulmar can feast as much as he likes, and we'll be long vanished in the night before anyone comes looking for us."
He climbed down into the hole until only his head and shoulders could be seen and beckoned her. "Ye're young, Shar," he said gently. "I know how it tugs at thy desires to leave this place before we've seen an end to it all. But learn a little wisdom and come now."
He waited until she moved forward, and added, "Oh, aye. Bring the stone, lass, and pull it down above thee. Ye'll find lines scratched on its underside to mark how it fits."
Sharantyr rolled her eyes in the gloom as she went to pick up the slab. With a sudden grunt of effort, she lifted it, staggered to the edge of the hole, and carefully set it down. A strong whiff of air from below made her cough.
"You certainly know how to find troubles to land me in," the lady Knight complained as she started to follow him down the hole.
"Ah, that's adventure, lass. Adventure," Elminster said cheerfully from somewhere in the darkness beneath her. "Some folk would envy ye."
Sharantyr rolled her eyes again. They were beginning to water. This gate had better be close by.
* * * * *
As the stone settled slowly back into place, the floating eye dipped to inspect it carefully. After a moment it soared into the darkness near the ceiling of the passage and sped away like an arrow fired from a strong forester's bow.
* * * * *
"Lord Most High," Councillor Xanther Srildar said, in the safe confines of a tiny secret room deep under the oldest tower of the High Castle, "Brothers Angruin Myrvult and Heladar Longspear have both perished this day, and Harpers and agents of Cormyr lead the people of the dale in armed rising. This dale is lost to us. Over my head, they're taking the castle as I speak. Almost all of our sword brothers and mages are dead." Xanther's words shook only a little.
When it issued out of the floating, darkly glowing black spindle in front of him, Manshoon's voice was silken in its easy softness. "Indeed. Have you an explanation for how this came about?"
Xanther swallowed. His throat was suddenly dry again. The lord's tone was a sudden and cold reminder that his position as Manshoon's spy on the other Zhentarim here, a Brother above and secret from them, would not preserve his life if the lord was sufficiently displeased.
'Yes, Lord," Xanther said boldly. "Elminster of Shadowdale led the forces that attacked the dale, accompanied by at least one of the Knights of Myth Drannor. I saw Elminster myself and overheard him talking to this Knight, a woman in leathers. He called her 'Shar.' They're presently going down a shaft that leads to the castle cesspool, where there's a hidden gate Elminster hopes to escape by"
"Escape?" came that smooth voice out of the speaking stone, quick with interest, and Xanther began to breathe more easily. It might be that his news would please the Dread Lord of the Zhentarim enough to save his own life after all.
"Yes, Lord," Xanther confirmed. "I heard him tell the Knight that they had no defense against magic anymore. His hand was burned where Stormcloak's magic missiles destroyed a ring