Spellfire - Ed Greenwood [175]
"That fight at the bridge, you see-they could have slain us all by art from afar without exposing themselves to our blades and spells for anything near so high a cost, if all they'd wanted was us dead. No, they wanted you, girl, you or your mother. I let them have neither! It was the greatest feat I ever managed, down all those years of acting and watching my tongue and yet trying to see you brought up proper.
"For they've kept nosing, all these years, the cult and others. I suspected your Marimmar, Narm, of being yet another spying mage-who knows, now? Some, I think, were fairly sure, but they did not want to fight rivals for you unless you were the prize, so they watched closely to see if you'd show some of your mother's powers. I dreaded the day you would. If it were too public a show, I might not have time to get you to the elves or the Harpers or Elminster.
"I was more wary of the old mage, for it is great mages who fear and want spellfire the most and will do the greatest ill to get it. Even if I had the time to run, then, I might not have the time to get Lureene and the others safe away. The cult might well burn this house to the ground and slay all within, if they came to take and found me gone."
He shook his head, remembering. "Some days, I was like a skulking miser, looking for those coming to plunder under every stone in the yard and behind every tree of the woods and in the face of every guest."
Chuckling, he shook his head. "Now you are wed, and I am to be wed, and you went to find yourself because I would not tell you who you were. And you've come back, with all my enemies and more besides upon your trail, and you wield spellfire. And I am too old to defend you."
"Gorstag," said Narm quietly. "You have defended her. All the time she needed it, you kept her safe.
Now all the Knights of Myth Drannor must scramble to defend her! She drove off Manshoon of Zhentil Keep and wounded him perhaps unto death! My Shandril needs friends, food, and a warm bed, and a guard while she sleeps. But if others give her those, it is not she who needs defending now when she goes to war!"
Shandril chuckled ruefully. "There you hear love talking," she said, wearily pushing her hair out of her eyes. "I need you more than ever, now. Did you not see how lonely The Simbul was, Narm? I would not be as she is, alone with her terrible power, unable to trust anyone enough to truly relax among friends and let down her defenses."
"The Simbul?" Lureene gasped. "The Witch-Queen of Aglarond?" Gorstag, too, looked awed.
"Aye," Shandril said simply. "She gave me her blessing. I wish I could have known her better. She is so lonely, it hurts me to see her. She has only her pride and her great art to carry her on."
*****
In a far place, in a small stone tower beneath the Old Skull, The Simbul sat up in the bed where Elminster lay snoring, and tears came into her eyes. "How true, young Shandril How right you were. But no more!" she said softly. Elminster was awake, instantly, and his hand went out to touch her bare back. "Lady?" he asked anxiously.
"Worry not, old mage," she said gently, turning to him with eyes full. "I am but listening to Shandril speak of me." "Shandril? Are you linked to her?"
"Nay, I would not pry so. I have a magic that I worked long ago, that lets me hear when someone speaks my name and what they say after, for three breaths, each time-if they are near enough.
Shandril is speaking of me, and my loneliness, and how she wished to know me better as a friend. A sweet girt I wish her well." "I wish her well, too. She is at ease, then, and unhurt, would you judge?"
"Aye, as much as one can judge." The Simbul regarded him impishly. "But you, lord! You are at ease and unhurt. Shall we see to changing your sloth into something more-interesting?'' "Aaargh," Elminster replied eloquently, as she began to tickle him, and he tried feebly to defend himself. "Have you no