Elminster Must Die

“Who …?” Starbridge and Narulph snarled in unison, but in far different tones of voice.

Blue eyes looked fearlessly up at them, and the lips beneath them said calmly, “You, gentlesirs, have captured Storm.”

“There!” Wizard of War Glathra roared as loudly as any man, pointing. “There! Take them!”

Then she, Dralkin, and the Purple Dragon patrol with them were all shouting and charging down a dark Suzail street toward the three fleeing men in the distance.

Who, it rapidly became apparent, were too winded and weary to stay ahead of the pursuit for long.

“Halt! Halt in the name of the king!” Dralkin bellowed, as the sprinting lawkeepers closed in on the running trio.

He was answered by a sudden crackling in the air, a surge of energy that brought with it the overwhelming impression of someone smiling maliciously over a glow in a vast, dark cavern. The energy rushed down on the three fleeing men-and they were gone, the street ahead of the rushing patrol empty.

“Dung,” Glathra snapped. “Magic! I hate magic!”

Swordcaptain Dralkin swung his head to look at her in surprise. A wizard of war who hated magic?

Seeing the expression on her face, he decided to wait for a better time to ask her about that. On his deathbed, perhaps.

“Nice, aren’t they?” Storm asked crisply, locking eyes with Highknight Narulph. Who turned a rich shade of crimson and looked away, wincing.

“Lady, they are,” Mereld said swiftly, offering her his own overrobe. “Pray accept our apologies for this … rude handling we’ve given you. I’m afraid we’re going to have to cast a spell or two on you, to learn the truth about what befell all these men around you, but-”

“I’ll save you the trouble,” Storm told him firmly. “I rang their heads for them. ’Twasn’t quite a fair fight, I’ll grant you-there were only eight against me, but sometimes the needs of all the Realms outweigh courtesies. Now, I’ve a question for you: who’s in charge here? I see highknights, so you’re from Cormyr-”

“We’ll ask the questions, woman,” Narulph started to growl from behind her, but an older man loomed up over the many who were still holding Storm down and said heavily, “I command here, Lady. Sir Eskrel Starbridge, now the ranking highknight of Cormyr. And you are-?”

“Storm Silverhand,” came her reply. “Named Lady Highknight Protector of the Realm by Queen Filfaeril, and confirmed in that office by her husband, the fourth Azoun-which would seem to make me the ranking highknight of Cormyr, Starbridge-and before that ennobled as Marchioness of Immer-dusk by Baerovus, when he was king. I was also Lady Envoy of the Dales to the second Palaghard, and Lady Envoy of Cormyr to the Dales to the second Rhigaerd.” She arched her neck to look up and back behind her, and added in a murmur to Narulph, “So if I were you, sir, I’d phrase my questions rather carefully.”

Hands were letting go of her in careful haste, though someone was heard to mutter, “She could have all manner of magic-”

“Yes,” Storm replied with a smile. “She could, couldn’t she? However, highknights and wizards of war of Cormyr, if the Forest Kingdom is anything to be proud of at all, you should dare to treat all women as ladies until you have cause to treat them in any lesser manner-not treat all strangers as dastardly foes until you know better. I certainly trained highknights, not to mention more than a few young noble lords, who behave in the more noble fashion. When did all of you go astray, I wonder?”

“Lady,” Starbridge began slowly, “it is not our intent to antagonize you or offer offense, and I apologize for how matters between us have begun. Is there anything we can do to make amends?”

“Several things,” Storm replied with a smile, getting to her feet. Aside from what was left of the robe and jerkin clinging to her shoulders, most of her torn clothing fell away from her, but she seemed not to notice. “Let’s begin by telling me plainly what you’re doing here. The last time I glanced at a map, Shadowdale was not, in fact, within the borders of Cormyr.”

“Lady, we seek Elminster. We are to bring him to Suzail as swiftly as possible.”

“Then you’re in luck. He’s there already. In the royal palace, if nothing’s gone awry. And I must return to him as quickly as I can. Which brings us to the second thing you can do to make amends to me.” She strode to Starbridge and held out her hand. “Yield to me your teleport ring.”

Starbridge held out hands that bore no rings at all. “Lady, I have no-”

“You can dispense with lying to me, too,” Storm told him crisply. “I speak of the ring in the little bag inside your tunic, that’s hanging from the inside of your collar. In return, I’ll tell you the name of a man in Mistledale who owes me much coin, and the word that will therefore make him freely give all of you superb fast mounts for your ride back to Cormyr.”

Starbridge’s face had gone flame red under the gaze of the war wizards, who were regarding him with frowns.

“How came you by a teleport ring?” Mereld asked Starbridge softly.

“It belonged to Queen Filfaeril,” Storm replied before Sir Eskrel could say a word. “The highknights have had it in their keeping ever since her death, thanks to her foresight and wise wishes. And my carrying them out.”

“Lady,” the wizard Lemmeth said in a low voice from behind Mereld, “you’ll appreciate how difficult it is for us to believe all of this.”

Storm nodded. “I do. Your disbelief is quite understandable-but a serious failing in a wizard of war, wouldn’t you say?”

She turned back to Starbridge. “The ring, sir.”

Eskrel Starbridge seemed to be struggling with himself. He glared at her, face shifting through a variety of not-quite-readable expressions, then tore open his collar, plucked forth the little bag she’d spoken of, and produced the ring.

Storm took it stepped forward and kissed him full on the mouth, put an arm around him and waltzed her way around behind him as he was still blinking in astonishment, stepped back-and was gone.

Leaving the Cormyreans blinking at each other across a hollow full of unconscious men.

Narulph broke the silence with a sudden, angry oath. “You let her get away! Without even telling us how to get the horses!”

Starbridge shook his head slowly. “When she kissed me, his name and a word just appeared in my mind: ‘Denneth Rhardantan,’ and ‘glimmerdeep.’ ”

He shook himself again, as if awakening, and snapped, “Get these dolts awake-they work for the Crown, so be gentle-and let’s be finding the trail to Mistledale. If this council goes as ill as I fear it will, I want to be back in Cormyr before it erupts into war!”

His command all stared at him; he gave them a glare, waved his arms, and roared, “Did you hear me? Move!”

They moved. All except the war wizards Mereld and Lemmeth.

“Sir Highknight,” Mereld asked quietly, “are you all right? What else did she do to you?”

Eskrel Starbridge stared back at them for a moment and then said, “I’m under no glamour, if that’s what you fear. Put down those sticks, Lemmeth; they’re not wands. She just took them from the kindling to make fools think they were seeing a wizard with wands, so they’d leave him be. She told me that, too.”

He started across the hollow. “And she gave me a look into her mind,” he added in a whisper. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping for some while. I know now what real loneliness feels like.”

The two war wizards stepped into his way, wearing frowns. “We’d better get you to-”

Starbridge gave them a wry grin and shook his head. “I’ll be all right. You see, I know now what true love feels like, too.”

“What’s wrong?” Marlin Stormserpent snapped.

Windstag was too out of breath and too terrified to be coherent. He put his head down almost against Marlin’s belly, gasping and shuddering. “Get us inside! Magic-don’t know whose-yours? — snatched us here!”

Marlin bundled the three nobles through the door and slammed it in a whirlwind of haste, then rushed them along a dark passage, up some stairs, and into a room in Stormserpent Towers that none of the three had ever