The Mage in the Iron Mask - Brian Thomsen [46]
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Along the Back Roads Twixt the Retreat and Mulmaster:
Volo and Chesslyn had been riding for hours, exchanging the idle conversation that strangers sometimes engaged in when they wanted to appear more at ease with one another than they really were. Conversation of the slaughter at the retreat, and the mysterious goings on in the Mulmaster area, soon gave way to tales of youth and adventure far from current shores.
The route that Chesslyn had chosen lengthened their journey by at least half a day, and as the sun began to make its descent towards the horizon the master traveler decided it was time to query his traveling companion about their possible accommodations for the night.
"Well, I must thank you for this marvelous impromptu tour of the Mulmaster area back roads and byways," the master traveler said. "I'd label it the scenic route, but unfortunately there's not much to look at."
"We agreed that it wasn't worth the risk being seen together, given where we were coming from, and all that has happened," the Harper agent admonished.
"Yes, yes," the master traveler agreed amiably, then added with a leer. "I'll call it the 'Lover's Route.'"
"The Lover's Route?" she asked, giggling with an air of incredulity.
"Sure," the master traveler replied, "the route one takes when wants to be alone… or perhaps when one wants the circumstances to dictate an unexpected extra night on the road. Which reminds me, you mentioned that you knew a place that would provide us with discreet overnight accommodations."
"Indeed, I did," she answered assuredly, "and discretion is guaranteed."
"My! A place out here in the middle of nowhere, where we don't have to worry about being seen together," Volo answered, taking his own turn at mock incredulity.
"Not by the lord of the manor, at least," she added.
"What's that?"
Chesslyn smiled, and explained. The road had leveled off slightly, and she seemed to be able to trust her steed to lead itself along the intended route.
"Have you ever heard of Blind Honor?" she asked.
"Sure," the master gazetteer replied, then paused for a moment, and ventured an explanation. "It's when something is so sacred between two people that both are bound by honor never to reveal their-"
"It's a person," she interrupted.
"Never heard of him," he conceded.
Chesslyn threw her head back and laughed.
"Imagine that," she declared. "I've stumped the master gazetteer of all Faerun."
"Of all Toril," Volo corrected. "Here, let me get out my notebook. I can ride and write at the same time."
"I don't think so," Chesslyn ordered, reining her horse around so that she was once again confronting the master traveler with direct eye contact. "Our discretion is mandatory. If I find a listing for the home of Honor Fullstaff in your upcoming guide to Mulmaster, I'll…"
"Cleave me in twain," the master traveler offered, immediately replacing his notebook in his pack before he had even finished extricating it.
"Something like that," Chesslyn affirmed with a smile that did not undercut the seriousness of her message. The Harper agent once again righted her horse, and proceeded along a parallel path to that of the master traveler.
"Well, between just you and me, and not for publication, under any circumstances, who is this Blind Honor guy?" Volo asked, a slight bit of impatience evident in his tone.
Eyes set ahead on the trail yet to be traveled, Chesslyn began her explanation. "Simply put, Honor Fullstaff is the master swordsman of all Faerun," she asserted.
"So why have I never heard of him?"
"He's been retired since before you began your illustrious career of belles lettres."
The master gazetteer made a mental note to try to remember as many specific details about the sword wielder as possible. With any luck, he imagined, he would be able to gather corroborating information