Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [36]
Broglan leaned forward and said to Murndal, "I've got a little task for you."
"Me?" Murndal asked, more surprised than suspicious.
“I gave you the only cloak of concealment I brought, to keep the spellblade hidden until you were ready to use it,” the leader of the war wizards explained. “It’s bonded to you now.”
“And so?” Murndal asked warily.
“You saw how upset the vision of the seneschal’s slayer-if that’s who it was-made the lady bard? She left the crypt in such haste that no priest was called to reseal the doors."
Murndal nodded slowly. "You want me to go there and cast an unsleeping guardian to see if anyone enters or leaves."
Broglan inclined his head in a nod so slight that it seemed for a moment to be no nod at all. His hand dipped into the breast of his robe. "I also want you to leave this there."
Murndal studied the silvery metal wand It was tipped with an emerald and sprouted sharp metal fins collars, and rune-inscribed horns. As he watched, it pulsed slightly, as if a deep-buried power were awakening in it. He lifted his eyes hastily from its rising glow. "What is it?"
"A decoy, of course. It has no powers save the ability to be traced by us at a distance-and to be violently destroyed by Insprin or myself, at a somewhat closer proximity."
"So if our murderer-or anyone else-snatches it from the tomb, we can follow, and visit an explosion into the very hands that would try to use the thing against us."
Broglan nodded.
Murndal looked around the circle of curious, watching faces, broke into a sudden grin. "I'll do it."- He rose. "Now?"
"Twould be best," his superior told him. "The sooner this lies in the tomb-on the table, perhaps, or fallen' beside it-the faster we can ensnare Lhansig's slayer."
Murndal strode to his chamber. Shrugging himself into the cloak, he asked with a frown, "The guards?"
"With that cloak, a minor problem." Broglan replied "I'm about, to send everyone on short missions at once, to give our patient Purple Dragons something watch."
The war wizard grew matching grins of anticipation. With a smile that was almost a purr, Broglan said,"Corathar and Hundarr, go to the old steward of the hall to borrow two of his tall braziers, don't press him if he refuses. Insprin, there's something vital- and for the time being, very secret-that you have to hunt down in the keep library… or perhaps in the senechal's papers. I'll be needing at least one of those doorguards to go and get the boldshield for me-and the other to take custody of this execrable liqueur for me it seems to bear some enchantment or other that's interfering with our work. Murndal, stand behind me and awaken the cloak."
He waved at them to get gone. With nods and grins, they obeyed. The leader of the war wizards turned and held out his hand to the globe above the table, giving it a steady glare. Under his scrutiny, it began to flash and pulse, Bending strange shadows leaping around the room. They almost entirely obscured the faint shimmering in the air right in front of him-Murndal in the cloak.
Broglan nodded in satisfaction and turned to the door. "Mystra and Tymora both be with us now," he muttered, and laid a hand on the bar that kept non-wizards out.
So it was that Murndal Claeron slipped out of the room quite unseen, and down the only hall that wasn't rapidly filling up with wary Purple Dragons. Curse that boldshield! He'd foreseen something like this, and posted what looked like at least three armsmen for each of the guest mages. It also seemed that, for the time being, he'd taken on the seneschal's crown-appointed duties, and would be resident in the keep until the killing were solved.
Murndal stifled a heartfelt oath and hurried away from the jostling and chatter, hopping no narrowed eyes would notice the slight shimmering the cloak trailed in its wake. He was around the first dogleg corner and into deeper dimness ere he realized that this