[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
* * * * *
"They're hunting us down like hares all over the harbor right now, lord! It's ruin for
us, unless you turn it to glorious victory by hurling some spell or other down into
that cellar and collapsing it to crush the lot of them. Why, there're more War
Wizards gathered together there and more of Those Who Harp, too, gods take
them! than I've ever seen all in one place since the last battle against the Devil
Dragon!"
"There's no need to shout and so draw attention to yourself, good Narvo," the
unseen man who held the other speaking stone replied, almost gently. "Have you
used the mindlink spell to talk with Englar?"
Narvo breathed deeply, as if trying to calm himself by sheer will, and said more
quietly, "No, lord. I cast it, but... it failed. He's either well away from Cormyr, or . .
."
"Dead. Most likely dead," was the calm reply. "I ordered him and some others to
find and bring back Zlorn, so he was probably down in that cellar not long ago.
What of Sanbreean? How fares he?"
"D-dead, lord, in the fighting on the docks. I saw him hurl a spell at a War Wizard
and have his face blasted off in return. So I'm the only one of us left. These nobles
and merchants are useless! All greed and chortling and nasty threats among
themselves and they turn and run like shrieking rabbits the moment things go
wrong!"
"Ah, well," the voice from the speaking stone in Narvo's hands said faintly so
softly that the Red Wizard bent hastily forward over it to hear, his nose almost
touching its cold, glossy-polished surface "these things happen. As must most
regrettably one more thing. This."
The speaking stone exploded with a roar, beheading Narvo in an instant. The Red
Wizard's corpse arched upright, clawing the air spasmodically, then staggered back
and sideways a few unsteady steps. Only a few, but enough. . . .
The peat-hued, reeking waters of Marsember harbor were home to a sizable
collection of small, floating dead things already, but they accepted a larger addition
with an almost welcoming splash.
The events of this evening had already afforded them much practice in such swift
acceptances.
And in a dark and distant chamber, an orphaned speaking-stone was set gently
down on a tabletop whose glossy polish rivaled its own. The man who'd put it there
toyed idly with a black gem pendant at his throat and turned away to stroll to the
window, hum softly up at the winking stars, and think. It was clearly time to consider
his second, and far more subtle, plan.
* * * * *
In the tense, crowded cellar in Marsember, the Mage Royal of Cormyr turned to
face the Simbul, keeping her balance by resting her fingertips on Rhauligan's
shoulder. Lifting her pain-lined face, she locked eyes with the fabled Scourge of
Thay.
Against her wild and towering beauty, Caladnei seemed young and of little
account just one more leather-clad Harper among many more menacing veterans.
Long-limbed and slender, her dark brown skin almost the hue of the leathers she
wore, she regarded the Witch-Queen of Aglarond with large, dark eyes deep
brown, rather than the ruby-red they became when she was angry and said calmly,
"I echo Rhauligan's welcome, but I must respectfully remind both of you, Elminster
and Queen Alassra, that in this place, in the absence of Crown Princess and Regent
Alusair and Dowager Queen Filfaeril, I am the royal law and voice of Cormyr."
"No dispute there, lass," Elminster murmured, spreading his hands a movement
that made several Harpers nervously raise handbows. Caladnei saw something of this
out of the corner of one eye and whirled to give the tense line of Cormyreans a
quelling 'down arms' gesture.
Turning back to the two Chosen once more, she drew herself up and said, "And in
that wise, in the interests of the realm, I demand the immediate surrender of Narnra
Shalace into my keeping and the as-swift departure of you both from our land,
honored Chosen, until times are more settled in Cormyr."
Gods watching over us, woman, but you have backbone and balls both, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
* * * * *
"They're hunting us down like hares all over the harbor right now, lord! It's ruin for
us, unless you turn it to glorious victory by hurling some spell or other down into
that cellar and collapsing it to crush the lot of them. Why, there're more War
Wizards gathered together there and more of Those Who Harp, too, gods take
them! than I've ever seen all in one place since the last battle against the Devil
Dragon!"
"There's no need to shout and so draw attention to yourself, good Narvo," the
unseen man who held the other speaking stone replied, almost gently. "Have you
used the mindlink spell to talk with Englar?"
Narvo breathed deeply, as if trying to calm himself by sheer will, and said more
quietly, "No, lord. I cast it, but... it failed. He's either well away from Cormyr, or . .
."
"Dead. Most likely dead," was the calm reply. "I ordered him and some others to
find and bring back Zlorn, so he was probably down in that cellar not long ago.
What of Sanbreean? How fares he?"
"D-dead, lord, in the fighting on the docks. I saw him hurl a spell at a War Wizard
and have his face blasted off in return. So I'm the only one of us left. These nobles
and merchants are useless! All greed and chortling and nasty threats among
themselves and they turn and run like shrieking rabbits the moment things go
wrong!"
"Ah, well," the voice from the speaking stone in Narvo's hands said faintly so
softly that the Red Wizard bent hastily forward over it to hear, his nose almost
touching its cold, glossy-polished surface "these things happen. As must most
regrettably one more thing. This."
The speaking stone exploded with a roar, beheading Narvo in an instant. The Red
Wizard's corpse arched upright, clawing the air spasmodically, then staggered back
and sideways a few unsteady steps. Only a few, but enough. . . .
The peat-hued, reeking waters of Marsember harbor were home to a sizable
collection of small, floating dead things already, but they accepted a larger addition
with an almost welcoming splash.
The events of this evening had already afforded them much practice in such swift
acceptances.
And in a dark and distant chamber, an orphaned speaking-stone was set gently
down on a tabletop whose glossy polish rivaled its own. The man who'd put it there
toyed idly with a black gem pendant at his throat and turned away to stroll to the
window, hum softly up at the winking stars, and think. It was clearly time to consider
his second, and far more subtle, plan.
* * * * *
In the tense, crowded cellar in Marsember, the Mage Royal of Cormyr turned to
face the Simbul, keeping her balance by resting her fingertips on Rhauligan's
shoulder. Lifting her pain-lined face, she locked eyes with the fabled Scourge of
Thay.
Against her wild and towering beauty, Caladnei seemed young and of little
account just one more leather-clad Harper among many more menacing veterans.
Long-limbed and slender, her dark brown skin almost the hue of the leathers she
wore, she regarded the Witch-Queen of Aglarond with large, dark eyes deep
brown, rather than the ruby-red they became when she was angry and said calmly,
"I echo Rhauligan's welcome, but I must respectfully remind both of you, Elminster
and Queen Alassra, that in this place, in the absence of Crown Princess and Regent
Alusair and Dowager Queen Filfaeril, I am the royal law and voice of Cormyr."
"No dispute there, lass," Elminster murmured, spreading his hands a movement
that made several Harpers nervously raise handbows. Caladnei saw something of this
out of the corner of one eye and whirled to give the tense line of Cormyreans a
quelling 'down arms' gesture.
Turning back to the two Chosen once more, she drew herself up and said, "And in
that wise, in the interests of the realm, I demand the immediate surrender of Narnra
Shalace into my keeping and the as-swift departure of you both from our land,
honored Chosen, until times are more settled in Cormyr."
Gods watching over us, woman, but you have backbone and balls both, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]