The Temptation of Elminster - Ed Greenwood [82]
Hah to that. He was becoming what he knew they called him behind his back: "the Flapping Mouth That Spews Decrees." The barons and lordlings constantly tried to undercut royal authority, or even steal openly from the court, and his Lady Master was no help at all, using her spells too seldom to engender any fear that might in turn breed obedience.
There came a faint scratching sound from off to his left. Elminster pulled on the right knob and a panel slid open. Two young guardsmen peered into the dimness. "You sent for us, Lord Elminster?"
"Ye found the scrolls, Delver, and…?"
"Burned, and the ashes in the moat, lord, as you ordered, mixed with the dust you gave me. I used all of it"
Elminster nodded and reached out a hand to touch a forehead. "Forget all, loyal warrior," he said, "and so escape the doom we all fear."
The guard he'd touched shivered, eyes blank, then turned and hurried back into the darkness, unlacing his breeches as he went. He'd been heading for his quarters when the sudden, urgent need to use a garderobe had come upon him, and led him into the disused wing of the palace.
"Ingrath?" the court mage asked calmly.
"I found the Q…ah, Aerwork in the Redshield Chamber and mixed in the white powder until I could see it no more. Then I said the words and got out,"
El nodded and reached out his hand. "Ye arid Delver are earning such handsome rewards…" he murmured.
The guardsman chuckled. "Not the need to go to the jakes, please, lord. Let it be wandering trying to recall my youthful dalliances down here, eh?"
El smiled. "As ye wish," he said, as his fingers touched flesh. Ingrath's eyes flickered, and the forgetful warrior stepped around the still and silent mage, walked in a thoughtful circle around the room, found the panel, and trotted away again, his part in slowing Dasumia's evil forgotten once more. Which might just keep him alive another month or two.
Twould be safer if the two weren't friends and knew nothing of each other…but it had happened that the best warriors El could trust, after subtle but thorough mind-scrying, were fast friends. That should be no surprise, he supposed.
El paced the gloomy room, his mood dark enough to match it. Mystra's command to serve had been clear, but 'serve in his own way" had always been Elminster's failing, if it was a flaw that was to doom him now, then let it be so. Some things a man must cling to, to remain a man.
Or a woman cleave to, to be herself… and there was certainly one lady in Galadorna doing just as she pleased. Queen Dasumia always seemed to be laughing at him these days and certainly cared nothing for the duties of being queen, she was seldom to be found on the throne or even in the royal castle, leaving El to issue decrees in her stead. Galadorna could sink into war and thievery without her noticing… and daily, as more slavers and unscrupulous merchants rushed in, knowing they'd be left more or less unrestricted in their dealings, the Lords of Laothkund were casting covetous eyes on the increasingly wealthy kingdom. One thing lawlessness among merchants does bring is full tax coffers.
El sighed again. The important thing was to make sure that with all this gold, lawlessness did not spread to the crown. Sweet Mystra forfend. Whatever would it be like to live in a land ruled by merchants?
Everyone ignored the splintering and crashing sounds of a table collapsing under two cursing men slugging each other and the shivering and tinkling sounds of breaking glass that followed as various nearby drinkers hurled bottles at the combatants, seeking to alter the odds of wagers just placed. Someone screamed from another room…a death cry that