Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [35]
“All the happily resting citizen of those lands haven’t plunged a sword into one of Mystra’s Chosen-the one who also happens to be a leader of the Harpers,” Murndal said bitterly. “Folk she hasn’t noticed yet are perfectly safe, but I stand in rather more danger!”
“Our plan was still a good one,” Broglan said, “and I noticed no such fear when you volunteered-volunteered, mind you-to be the one to strike with our spellblade. Weeping now is wasted wind… and it undercuts your bravery in everyone’s eyes.”
Murndal sighed gustily and fell back into his chair, spreading his hands. “All right, I’m a dead man,” he growled. “So while she plots a suitable manner for my execution, what’ll the rest of you be doing?”
“Doing?”
“There’s a murderer, or more than one, at work in Firefall Keep," Murndal reminded his superior with some asperity, "or have you forgotten Lhansig and his codpiece? I know you spoke of the killings being Storm's work-but she can't have slain the seneschal… unless you think her capable of enchanting the wits of both the steward and the boldshield!"
"I do think her capable of just that," Broglan said "but I'll admit that Baerest's demise doesn't feel like her work. But did you not see Thalance Summerstar leave the table in plenty of time to have done the deed?"
"That fop? Take the seneschal? With luck, perhaps b-"
"Not luck," Broglan said tartly. "Magic. The man's skull was burnt bare… not the work of a lucky sword thrust."
"But Thalance hasn't the brains to-"
"Oh?" Insprin put in. "And just how do we know that? We've seen him twice, mayhap thrice. By all accounts he's seen every chambermaid and unattached lady in the vale. That may be the work of a fool, but it requires no small amount of cunning."
"None of the Summerstars need to be cunning, Broglan reminded them, "when they've got the Lady Pheirauze to do it for them"
"Yea," Murndal said thoughtfully. "I could just picture them all running to and fro at her bidding…"
"So what are you saying Pheirauze gains by slaying her own grandson?" Hundarr Wolfwinter broke in. His sharp tone made it clear that he'd heard enough commoners criticizing the ethics of a noble house.
"A lot more power around here, for one thing." Insprin said gravely. "Where Athlan would be expected to rule his house his own way, youthful mistakes and all, Shayna will be expected to take advice from her elders… particularly in matters of marriage."
"And what would you know of the expectations at court?" Hundarr asked coldly.
–All too much. I fear." the thin, gray-haired old mage calmly replied, ignoring the bait.
Broglan turned. "Enough, Hundarr!– Even we lowborn men have eyes and ears and brains! I've seen no sigh that either Lord Vangerdahast or the king are stupid enough to divide the citizens of Cormyr into but two groups: cultured, dear-thinking, loyal nobles and howling-dog, brutish, dangerous commoners. I hope you won't make that mistake either. Too many proud families of Cormyr are extinct today because of it."
Hundarr Wolfwinter stared back at him silently, a clear challenge in his eyes. Neither man moved or spoke for a long minute. Then Broglan shrugged, turned away, and said, "The fact remains that Murndal has asked a good question-what is our course, in the hours and days ahead?"
"Watch and wait," Insprin said flatly, "with eyes open and battle spells ready, to see what Storm Silverhand stirs up as she roams through the keep."
Broglan nodded. "That's exactly the road I've been following," he admitted. "If we spend our days interviewing servants and scrying at their thoughts to ferret out murderers who