Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [10]
And your missing man?" The bitingly bored tone made it clear that the Dowager Lady Summerstar care not a whit for the fate of the absent wizard-only for how much she could make those present grovel and squirm.
"Ah-a woman, actually, lady, and at present engaged in giving birth…
"Congratulations," the Lady Pheirauze Summerstar replied with a cold little smile. She turned away before Broglan could even begin to protest that he wasn't the father.
Someone in the line of wizards snickered. Someone else was thinking that this old noblewoman was just perhaps a colder bitch than their absent colleague, Chalantra. Just perhaps.
They all watched the noblewoman walk away across the courtyard, her back as straight as a sword blade. The sway of her hips made more than one of her audience think again of her beauty, before Broglan turned briskly to the boldshield and said, "Ah-shall I present my mages to you, then?"
The solid, side-whiskered old Purple Dragon officer allowed just the slightest crook of a smile to creep onto one end of his mouth. " Suppose you do that, Sir Broglan. I know who you are, and you'd best know that I am Ergluth Rowanmantle, boldshield of the district of Northtrees Marck. I report directly to Baron Thomdor, warden of the Eastern Marches"
The boldshield's eagle-sharp eyes turned to look in the direction the old noblewoman had gone. "The lady you have all just-briefly-met is Lady Pheirauze, the matriarch of House Summerstar. The true family heir is her granddaughter, the Lady Shayna Summerstar, and the nominal head of the house is the other Dowager Lady Summerstar: mother to Shayna and daughter-in-law of Lady Pheirauze."
"That's Zarova Summerstar, is it not?" Broglan asked. "Who was born a Battlestar?"
The boldshield inclined his head in a nod. "That's right. In the absence of an heir who's been presented to the king, however, the master of this keep in it's seneschal, whom you'll meet shortly. Ill leave him to introduce himself, but I'd best know your muster"
"So you can put names to the bodies, if need be," Broglan said, repeating the old joke.
The boldshield did not smile. "That's right."
The overwizard coughed, tried on an uneasy smile, and then growled, "Well, then: you see before you in order, down our line-Hundarr of the Wolfwinter noble house." He looked to a tall, sharp-featured mage whose elegantly cut black hair was shot through with streaks of white. The mage inclined his head in a greeting every bit as haughty as the looks the Dowager Lady Summerstar had been dispensing. "Lhansig Dlaerlin." A short, burly man with a broad face and an easy smile sketched a flippant, one-handed salute, his eyes mocking. The boldshield's level stare cut into those mocking eyes like two cold lance points but made no change in their dark twinkling. I
"Corathar Abaddarh." This mage was young, thinlipped, and wintry-eyed, so eager to impress that he practically quivered, like a dog leaping to be let off the leash. He'd struck a dramatic pose, of course-and, as he felt the boldshield's eagle-eyed scrutiny fall upon him, he shifted rather self-consciously to another.
"Insprin Turnstone, recently transferred to us from Vangerdahast's personal Enforcers." An older wizard steadily met the boldshield's gaze, and nodded, as one to an equal His face was weather-beaten, his eyes were the color of dull steel, and his black hair-what little he still had -had almost all gone gray.
Ah, yes, Ergluth thought. A pair of eyes and ears for the royal magician, put into this group before its ambitious younglings took it right out of control. He returned the thin old man's nod, almost smiling. He could tell that a similarly knowing, not-quite smile lurked just below Turnstone's cheeks, too.
"Murndal Claeron." He was a darkly handsome man with a close-trimmed mustache and the sort of beard that puts two little corners to the chin before slicing up to join the sideburns. He had glistening brown eyes and