The Temptation of Elminster - Ed Greenwood [36]
The door opened, Glavyn returned bearing an earthen pot. Lord Felmorel took it from him, motioned him back into his place in the line, and said to his men, "I trust you all. If you see ought that offers ill to Felmorel, strike accordingly…both of us, if need be." Bearing a small belt knife and the pot, he stepped forward.
"I love you, Esbre," the Lady Nasmaerae whispered, and went to her knees.
He stared at her stonily and said only, "Proceed."
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and said, "Place the pot so that I can reach within." When he did so, she dipped one hand in and brought it out with a palmful of his urine. Letting her cupped hand rest on the floor, she held out her other hand and said, "Cut my palm…not deeply, but draw blood."
Grimly Lord Felmorel did as he was bid, and she said, "Now withdraw…pot, knife, and all."
As he retreated, the guards grew tense, waiting to leap forward with their steel at the slightest sign from Lord Esbre. As her own dark blood filled her palm, Nasmaerae looked around the ring. Their faces told her just how deeply she was feared and hated. She bit her lip and shook her head slightly.
Then she drew in another deep breath, and with it seemed to gain courage. "I'll begin," she announced, and without pause slipped into a chant that swiftly rose in urgency and seemed fashioned around his name. The words were thick and yet somehow slithering, like aroused serpents. As they came faster and faster, small wisps of smoke issued from between her lips.
Suddenly…very suddenly…she clapped her hands together so that blood and urine mixed, and cried out a phrase that seemed to echo and smite the ears of the men in the chamber like thunderclaps. A white flame flared between her cupped palms, and she lifted her head to look at her lord…only to scream, raw and horrified and desperate, and try to fling herself to her feet and away.
The star-swirling eyes of Azuth, cold and remorseless, were staring at her out of Lord Felmorel's face, and that musical, terrible voice of doom sounded again, telling her, "All magic has its price."
None of the guards heard those five words or saw anything but grim pity in their Lord's face, as the Mantimera held up a hand to stay their blades. The Lady Felmorel had fallen to the floor, her face a mask of despair and her eyes unseeing, dying wisps of smoke rising from her trembling limbs…limbs that withered before their eyes, then were restored to lush vitality, only to wither again in racing waves. All the while, as her body convulsed, rebuilt itself, and shriveled again, her screaming went on, rising and falling in a broken paean of pain and terror.
The guards stared down at her writhing body in shocked silence until the Mantimera spoke again.
"My lady will be abed for some days," he said grimly. 'Leave me with her, all of you…but summon her maids-of-chamber hence to see to her needs. Azuth is merciful and shall be worshiped in this house henceforth."
Somewhere a woman was twisting on a bare stone floor, with leveled swords all around her in a ring and her bare body withering in waves as she wailed… elsewhere motes of light, like stars in a night sky, were whirling in darkness with a cold chiming sound… there followed a confusing, falling instant of mages casting spells and becoming skeletons in their robes as they did so, before Elminster saw himself standing in darkness, moonlight falling around him. He was poised before a castle whose front gate was fashioned in the shape of a giant spiderweb. It was a place he knew he'd never been, or seen before. His hands were raised in the weaving of a spell that took shape an instant later and spell blasted apart the gate in a burst of brilliance. The light whirled away to become the teeth of a laughing mouth that whispered, "Seek me in shadows."
The words were mocking, the voice feminine, and Elminster found himself sitting bolt upright at the fool of his unused bed, cold sweat plastering his clothing to him.
"Mystra has guided me," he murmured. "I'll tarry