The Mage in the Iron Mask - Brian Thomsen [59]
Volo began to finger his beard, and said, "I've traveled a lot, and I can't say that I recall a place by the name of Zenda."
"I'm not surprised," Rassendyll answered, quickly changing the subject by saying, "I hear dessert calling. Shall we?"
"We shall," Chesslyn and Volo said simultaneously, then looked at each other and began to laugh.
The three set off after their dining companions.
* * * * *
Honor Fullstaff's study was far from what you would expect from a retired recluse's place of contemplation, but was in keeping with the remarkable abilities of their host, at least in the minds of Rassendyll and Volo. It was a veritable arsenal of bladed weapons, decorated with all sorts of military memorabilia and commendations tastefully arrayed in various display cases, mountings, and stands, complimented by several overstuffed chairs and numerous end tables that seemed to have been tailor-made for holding after dinner treats and cordials.
When the threesome arrived, the others had already settled into their chosen post-dinner modes. In the few minutes that had elapsed since the group had split in half, Passepout had already polished off two puddings, and had safely ensconced himself in an overstuffed settee that Volo assumed had been imported from far-off Kara Tur or possibly Zakhara to the south. The cushions reallocated themselves to support the thespian's bulk in such a way that no doubt provided the heavyset actor with luxurious comfort, but would also hinder him from being able to right himself later on. The master traveler anticipated more than a bit of huffing and puffing on his own part when Passepout called upon him for assistance. Mage McKern was sitting in a slightly more austere throne that might have at one time functioned as a sedan chair, and was sipping a glass of dessert wine, smacking his lips in zealous appreciation after each swallow.
Honor Fullstaff was not seated, and was instead pacing around the room juggling four daggers in the air while carrying on a conversation with McKern. Volo thought he noticed their jovial host cock his head to the side slightly when they entered the room as if to signal that he had indeed sensed their presence.
"Have a seat, have a seat," Honor heralded while not interrupting his juggling exhibition. "Anywhere will do. There's even a double, Chesslyn, for you and your friend, though I will not tolerate it if you two ignore the rest of us for the simple pleasures of each other's company."
Chesslyn looked at Volo and rolled her eyes at her teacher's misconception of their relationship, but nonetheless ushered the master traveler over to the double-seated couch.
"Pish tosh, Honor," McKern interjected, "leave them be. And besides, all eyes in the room are on you and your magnificent manipulation of the blades."
"Are they really?" Honor asked coyly, with a trace of a chuckle in his tone.
"Mmmmphyph," Passepout offered, his mouth full with the start of his third pudding.
"Agreed," said Honor, who shifted the orbit of the blades from in front of him to behind him and then back again without so much as a hesitation in his breathing.
"I am quite impressed," Volo said to the host, "and I've seen quite a bit in my travels."
"Oh, have you now," Honor responded. "Did you hear that Mason? The young whippersnapper claims to have been around. Maybe he's not necessarily the type of fellow who should be hanging around our Chesslyn."
Our Chesslyn, the Harper agent thought.
"Could be," McKern replied, and turned to face Volo. "You seem to be a bit familiar. Perhaps we have met before?"
"Perhaps," Volo replied carefully, adding, "after all I do get around."
McKern gave a hearty laugh at the witty rejoinder, and then turned his attention to Rassendyll. "I was just filling Honor in on the latest goings on in Mulmaster. Evidently a prisoner has escaped, two vagabonds are being sought, and there is rumor that there is unrest in the High Blade's marital chambers."
Honor quickly joined in.
"McKern here is one of Mulmaster's older Cloaks,"
Fullstaff explained, surreptitiously adding