Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [54]
"Fair morn, Lord," the mage greeted him coldly and smoothly. "Are you well? Is there something dark on your mind?"
Longspear eyed him back just as coldly. "The safety of my dale," he said shortly. "As usual. Will you be ready, mage, to see to the safety of the High Dale, should we be attacked?"
"Attacked?" Stormcloak crooked one long, arched eyebrow. "Do you expect something as swiftly as all that?"
"Sooner," Longspear growled. "Sooner." He looked out again at the peaceful trees and fields of the dale below, then up to the frowning gray walls of the mountains beyond on both sides.
Then he brought his gaze down, hawklike, directly to meet the wizard's.
Stormcloak's eyes were steady upon him. He waited.
Silence. Heladar sighed inwardly and asked, "Well?"
"My lord?" The mage added the slightest mocking twist to the title.
"I asked you a question, mage." Heladar kept his voice cold, level, and patient. "Have you an answer for me?"
Stormcloak was silent. Heladar propped an elbow on the nearest stone crenellation as if he had all the time in the Realms, leaned against it, and waited.
The mage waited a moment more, testing Longspear's gaze, then said softly, "My spells are ready to defend the High Dale, for the greater glory of the Zhentarim." For the Zhentarim-not for Heladar Longspear. The Lord of the High Dale gave him a wintry smile to show that his verbal jab had not been missed and said, "What is it I hear from Zhentil Keep, then, of magic going wild and mages falling mad?"
Angruin took a step closer, frowning. "Wild magic? Who has told you of this?"
Longspear smiled a long, slow smile. "One," he said carefully, "whom it is better not to name. I assure you that you know him. He inhabits a lofty tower."
Angruin kept his face mildly interested, no more. Manshoon. Longspear's words could mean only one man: he who dwelt in the Tower High. Lord Manshoon, leader of the Zhentarim. This Heladar Longspear must enjoy more favor than he'd thought.
Longspear, who'd just launched his greatest bluff so far in his dealings with this haughty wizard, smiled and hoped he'd get away with it. "Well?" he asked again. "The day does draw on, Angruin. I can't order the men to best effect unless I know how much I can rely on your magic, and that of the lesser mages. What say you?"
Angruin Myrvult accepted the extended hand of peace somewhat reluctantly. "Our Art-the magic of all men, from what I hear and suspect-has become somewhat… unsettled. Yet we stand with you as always, Lord Longspear. Moreover," he added, lifting his hands to reveal the wand at his belt that his fingers had been tightening around as they spoke, "we are never without at least one… aid."
"Good," Heladar told him. Before Stormcloak could add the inevitable threat, he spoke it for him. "I'll remember that."
The Lord of the High Dale went down the stairs, feeling cold eyes on his back all the way down. He kept his shoulders broad and square, taking satisfaction in his daring at turning his back on Angruin for so long. No one else in all the dale dared to.
* * * * *
Jatham Villore looked out of his shop, up at the frowning bulk of the High Castle looming above the trees. "Yet the eating of bad bread may make a haunt of the dreams of even a lord," he echoed the quotation. No, the word had been "kings," hadn't it? No matter,
Heladar and his bullying mages were upset indeed, for the first time since they'd come here. Perhaps their rule could be weakened or even broken altogether.
That would please his masters very much.
Jatham went quietly into his shop and bolted the door. This wouldn't take long. Just a simple spell or two to confuse and befog magical attempts to locate things and folk such as the mysterious enemies who'd twice been so bold as to strike out at the lord's Wolves and mages.
Or even more times, if Longspear and Angruin had not told all. Jatham grinned as he bolted an inner door behind him. These cloaking spells had saved his own skin more than once. Back in Thay, he'd learned their ins and outs very thoroughly, for wise masters