Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [51]
Heladar's eyes narrowed. Was that it? Ildomyl had seized a goodly amount of magic, by all accounts, and certainly the man had a wand or two. He shouldn't have fallen so easily. Had his magic failed him?
He smiled. Watching the mages would take long-perhaps too long. Better to charge in, swinging a blade, and force things his way. He smiled and said quietly, "Angruin is right, of course. We must rouse the dale."
Stormcloak's head turned in surprise. He had almost forgotten Heladar was there at all. Longspear met his eyes and added softly, "Yet there is something I must speak to him about in private. Something about… spells." He raised his eyebrows, awaiting Angruin's agreement.
That was it! There was something amiss with their magic. The mages were all looking at him as though he'd grown six hissing serpent heads, and all of them breathing fire, too!
Heladar smiled evenly at them all, looking mysterious and enjoying it. Let them think he had his own sources rather than dismissing him as a stone-headed, sword-swinging puppet who'd dance eagerly to whatever tune they told him Zhentil Keep played. This was more the way things should be. He drummed his fingertips in satisfaction on the hilt of his sword, below the edge of the table, and leaned forward.
The other councillors were agreeing, of course. They could hardly appear loyal, or even prudent in matters touching the safety of their homes, if they did not. If they were all spies, though, the coming turmoil could only give them chances to kill off Zhent mages and warriors, weakening the invisible but heavy hand in which Zhentil Keep held the High Dale.
"Have we agreement, then?" he asked softly, surprising them all this time. He gathered them in with his eyes, one by one around the table. All met his gaze. All, even the wizards, nodded to his authority.
Heladar Longspear rose to his feet and looked down that long table. "As we are all agreed," he began formally, "I have no hesitation in giving the orders: We loose all our hounds and go to war."
* * * * *
It was cold, churning along up to their knees in the swampy backwaters, and the smell was incredible. "See the far reaches of the Realms," Sharantyr muttered.
"Walk where no mortal has trod… Is this what those mercenaries mean when they go spinning tales in the taverns?"
"To lure idle young bravos? Aye." Elminster chuckled. "This is exactly what they mean, though they sing a different song." He strode along in the muddy water unconcerned, his long robes drawn up through his belt into a ridiculous bundle. Seeing her look, he laid a hand suggestively on his hip, batted his eyelashes at her, and winked. Sharantyr saw that he'd tied the long end of his white beard into a club knot.
It was too much. She shouted with laughter, doubled up over the fetid water, then stopped suddenly, clapping a dripping hand over her mouth.
"Tymora bless me!" she hissed. "I'm sorry, Old Mage!
The guards-"
Elminster chuckled. "Don't worry," he assured her "That last cliff back there, the one like the ship's prow, marks the western end of the dale, or used to. We've slipped clean past Westkeep and into what they call the Hullack Stairs-or used to."
Sharantyr chuckled at that. "I'll be hearing you say 'or used to' in my sleep."
Elminster's eyebrows rose. "Oh?" he asked with dignity. "I was aware that I'd given thee leave to accompany me, young lady, and that ye'd behaved thyself-more or less-impeccably, given our physical proximity and, ah, dire straits. But I assure thee I do not recall giving thee any intimation that ye'd be welcome to listen to me while ye pretend to slumber!"
Sharantyr sighed, and shook her head. "All right, Old Mage, all right," she shushed him. "What now?"
"Now we look for the marker stone that should be right about… here." Elminster trotted around a clump of shrubs, over a fallen tree, and paused dramatically, pointing at a weathered pillar of stone. "You knew where to find this?" Elminster shrugged. "Unless someone took it into his head to move it since I placed it here, some three hundred winters