The Temptation of Elminster - Ed Greenwood [149]
The Lord of Spells had turned as pale as old bones and was gaping at her, mouth working like a fish gasping out of water. Everyone waited for him to find his voice again, it took quite a while.
"But… your spells still work, then?" he managed to ask, at last.
"Not a one," she said flatly. "I killed them with this." She drew forth the tiny dagger from its sheath at her hip, then threw back her left sleeve to lay bare a long, angry-looking line of pine gum and wrapped linens. "That's how I got this."
"Were these merchants also coming to…to…?" Arunder asked faintly, swaying back on his heels. His hands were trembling like those of a sick old man.
"I went to them," Faeya told him in biting tones, "to beg them to make again the offer you so charmingly refused two months ago. They were good enough to oblige, when they could well have set their dogs on me: the apprentice of the man who turned three of them into pigs for a night."
There were angry murmurs of remembrance and agreement from among the merchants around her. Arunder stepped back and raised a hand to cast a spell out of sheer habit…before dropping it with a look of sick despair.
His lady drew herself up and said more calmly, "So now the deal's done. Your tower and all these lands, from high noon today henceforth, belong to this cabal of merchants, to use as they see fit."
"And-and what happens to me? Gods, woma…"
Faeya held up a hand, and the wizard's ineffectual gibbering ended as if cut off by a knife. Someone chuckled at that.
"We, my lord, are free to live unmolested in the South Spire, casting spells…so long as they harm or work ill upon no one upon this holding…as much as we desire… or are able to. You, Thess, receive two hundred thousand gold pieces…that's why all of these good men are here…all the firewood we require, and a dozen deer a year, prepared for the table."
Without a word, Hulder Phelbellow laid a sack upon the side table. It landed with the heavy clink of coins. Whaendel the butcher followed him, then, one by one, all of the others, the sacks building up until they were reaching up the wall, atop a table that creaked in protest.
Arunder's eyes bulged. "But… you can't have gold enough, none of you!"
His lady rejoined him in a graceful green shifting, and laid a comforting hand on his arm. "They have a backer, Thess. Now thank them politely. We've some packing to do…or you will be wearing my gowns."
"I-I…"
Her hitherto gentle hand thrust hard into his ribs.
"My lords," Arunder gulped, "I don't know how to thank you…"
"Thessamel," Phelbellow said genially, "you just did. Have our thanks, too…and fare thee well in the South Spire, eh?"
Arunder was still gulping as the merchants filed out, chuckling. The noises he was making turned to whimpers, however, when their withdrawal revealed the man who'd been sitting calmly behind them all the while, the faint glow of deadly magics playing along the naked broadsword that was laid across his knees. That blade was in the capable grasp of the large and hairy hands of the famous warrior Barundryn Harbright, whose smile, as he rose and looked straight into the wizard's eyes, was a wintry thing. "So we meet again, Arunder"
"You…!" the wizard's snarl was venomous.
"You're my tenant now, mage, so spare me the usual hissed curses and spittle. If you anger me enough, I'll take you under my arm down to the stream where the little ones play, and spank your behind until it's as red as a radish. I'm told that won't hamper your spellcasting one bit." One large, blunt-fingered hand waved casually through the air past Arunder's nose.
The wizard blinked in alarm. "What? Who…?".
"Told me so?" Harbright lifted his chin in a fond smile that was directed past Arunder's shoulder.
The Lord of Spells whirled around in time to see Faeya's catlike smile drifting out the door they'd come in by, together. The rest of her accompanied it, a vision in forest green.
Lord Thessamel Arunder moaned, swayed on his feet, and turned, on the verge of tears of rage, to run away from it all…only to come to