Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [59]
Belkram stalked forward to confront the last few Wolves. "We've important business at the castle," he told them almost sadly, "so we haven't time to take prisoners."
Itharr sighed. "So sad," he murmured, and lunged. A Wolf shrieked and struck the Harper's blade aside at the last instant. His eyes were still on it when the dagger in Itharr's other hand came up into them.
As the man fell, two Wolves charged in desperation, swinging their blades wildly. Itharr ducked under the falling body and rolled aside, lifting a boot to trip one Wolf. Belkram's blade took the rearmost in the neck.
The serving man stood in the door, axe raised. "Who's first?" he rumbled, eyes cold. "Who'll die first?"
The Wolves hesitated for an instant, and that was long enough for Belkram to slay the one who'd fallen and for Itharr to rise again. The last two Wolves plunged forward desperately.
The old man's axe bore the first to one side, and Itharr thrust him through from behind. The second leapt for the door and fell through the opening with Belkram on his back, stabbing with cold ruthlessness.
Silence fell again. Then the two Harpers rose, dusted themselves off, retrieved their weapons, and smiled at the old man. Belkram handed him six gold pieces. "For the furniture… and the floor show."
"Aye," Itharr agreed. "Our thanks. We must be off now."
A light was dancing in the old man's eyes. "Whither, lads? Come you to bring down this Longspear who lords it over us?"
The two Harpers nodded slowly.
"We came to find a friend of ours," Belkram said quietly. "But it seems the High Dale needs more attention than he does just now. If he were here, he'd been doing what we aim to. We're off to the castle, to rouse the dale against these Wolves and their wizards." He frowned then as a thought struck him. "Does the high constable yet live?"
"Aye," the old innkeeper said grimly. "After a fashion, As that carrion said, he's in chains, working the mill as if he were an ox."
Belkram looked at Itharr. "That ends first." His fellow Harper nodded, the grim expression matching his own.
"I'm coming with you," the old man said without another glance at the sprawled bodies in his taproom. The axe lifted a little. "I fought off outlaws aplenty, in my day." He handed back the gold. "And I won't take coins from men who do our work for us. No, take 'em! I haven't felt so good in many a year."
He stepped out to look up and down the street, then squinted thoughtfully at the frowning walls of the castle rising above the rooftops nearby. "Who's this friend you came seeking?"
Belkram saw faces peering at them from nearby doors and windows. "One Elminster, a wizard. Have you heard of him?"
The old man's eyes widened a little. "The Elminster?" he asked. "The Old Mage? That wasn't just talk, what you told the Wolves?"
"No," Itharr said. "We mean to find him. We promised a lady we would. Not to do him ill, either."
The old man nodded. "I saw him beat six wizards once in a battle of spells. East of here, in Sembia it was. They were slavers, going about using spells to make folks follow 'em willingly by chaining their wits. He got proper hot, I tell you."
He shook his head, a slow grin broadening his face at the memories. "It was something to see, that. He smashed 'em with lightning, hurled back the balls of fire they threw at him, opened a hole in the sky to swallow up a-a great tentacled thing they conjured up and sent after him, and crushed one of 'em under a huge rock. Snatched it off a mountain, in the midst of all, and sent it flying like a bird across most of Sembia to drop from above." He shook his head again, smiling. "I don't suppose he's here now, is he?"
Itharr spread his hands. Belkram squinted up into the sky.
"No," he said slowly. "No flying rocks."
The old man sighed. "I guess not. Ah, well. I'd hoped to see just one more good spellfight, to tell folks about, before I die." His