Elminster Must Die

“They are,” Storm Silverhand said in a level voice, rising up between Elminster and the Simbul with her sword in her hand. “And you should heed Sir Nordroun’s wisdom, Wizard of War Shuldroon, and abandon any schemes of taking and binding anyone. A few loyal guardians of Cormyr might live longer that way.”

“And just who are you?”

“Storm Silverhand is my name.”

“Another liar using a name out of legend?” Shaking his head and sneering anew, Shuldroon put one hand behind his back and gestured.

Behind him, the ring of Cormyreans started to tighten around the three standing amid the rocks. All save one man. Wizard of War Kelgantor, it seemed, had decided to hang back and watch, wands in both of his hands, ready to unleash magic when necessary.

Storm shook her head. “So it’s to be another bold night in brave Cormyr,” she murmured. She laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder, finding it atremble with rage, and added, “Don’t blast them just yet, Lass. We should warn them once more; give them another chance.”

The Simbul’s answer was a low, feline growl.

“We know you’re scared to use your paltry magic,” Shuldroon told Elminster. “And that you have taken to not using it in favor of menacing folk and trading on your fearsome-and borrowed-reputation. Unfortunately for you, old charlatan, we don’t scare.”

He took a step forward and struck a defiant pose, his shoulders squared and his hands on his hips, to add, “I’m not scared.”

Elminster replied dryly, “Ye should be.”

CHAPTER THREE

SPELLDOOM AND BLOOD-DRENCHED BATTLE

Shuldroon’s only answer was another sneer, as the ring of men closed in.

“Don’t force this,” Elminster warned them, looking past the young war wizard at the other Cormyreans. “There will be death. And I am more than tired of killing.”

“Huh,” another young mage-the one called Hondryn-replied, flexing his fingers. “We can end your weariness forever, old man.”

“Aye, but should ye? If, that is, ye care for Cormyr.”

“Ah, this will be the ‘if ye knew the dark secrets I do, ye’d not be so foolish’ proclamation,” Shuldroon said mockingly. “Wherein you pose as the hidden guardian of the Forest Kingdom, its lone defender against all manner of dark creeping menaces we are too callow to know about, let alone understand.”

“I see ye know the script.” Elminster’s smile was wry. “Do ye also dismiss how those plays usually end?”

The young war wizard shrugged. “Everyone dies, so what boots it? Perhaps I’m a harsher critic of such sad amusements than you are-you who have seen and caused so many.”

“The savagery of a young cynic never rests,” Storm murmured and drew her sword.

That earned her one of Shuldroon’s sneers, but she had already turned to cast another swift look over her shoulder.

Tethgard’s tumbled stones hindered the closing of the ring behind the three former Chosen, but the Cormyreans stood close in front of them. Kelgantor, too, was advancing, though well behind his fellows. Storm saw him glance warily over his own shoulder, seeking unseen foes in the dark forest at his back, and she smiled bitterly.

They were here for blood, these men of Cormyr. It was all too clear how this would end.

“One last chance, old man,” Shuldroon said to Elminster. “Know that your own continued defiance has cost you much leniency on our part. We now have another demand: surrender to us she who was once the Witch-Queen of Aglarond. She is a danger and a peril to all Cormyr, and the king has commanded her apprehension!”

Elminster raised one eyebrow. “Ye seem to think she is my dog, rather than a person who chooses for herself. Count thyselves fortunate she’s kept her temper thus far, and be warned that her patience is not eternal.”

“You command here, do you not?”

“Noone ‘commands’ here, lad. She’s under my protection, aye, and I’ll defend her freedom and her person-but she is no slave. Neither I nor anyone else owns her, wherefore no one can surrender her but the lady herself. Make such demands to her, not of me.”

“You seek to duel me with words, old man. She’s a drooling idiot, chained like a dog-and you hold the other end of the chain!”

Elminster looked at Nordroun and asked mildly, “Was this the most, ah, diplomatic wizard of war the Crown could find? A youngling so hot-tongued that he needs ye to walk at his side as his bodyguard?”

Nordroun kept stone-faced and silent, but Shuldroon went purple and snarled, “Yield to us yon woman-we’ll not ask again!”

“Good,” El replied. “Then we can have some peace and quiet once more? Marvelous!”

“Mock me not, old man! I speak with the full authority of the Crown!”

“Methinks it weighs rather too heavily upon thy brains, youngling. All this wild shouting and rude, imprudent demanding! Are ye truly rash enough to try to force me to choose between the land I love and my lady?”

“I care nothing for your loves, Elminster. I care only about your defiance, your refusal to obey. Nor is the woman our only demand; I remind you that we require the immediate surrender of the Royal Gorget of Battle that you stole from the royal palace. Yield up both of these to us, in the name of the king’s justice!”

“The gorget I retrieved from the palace, ye mean,” Elminster replied, wagging a reproving finger. “I loaned that bauble to the first Palaghard when he was but a prince, to keep him alive through a rather perilous youth. He was not then king, and it was not a gift to him-nor to the Crown of Cormyr, nor yet the Forest Kingdom. He let his Enchara wear it when needful, a generosity I approved of. However, ’twas my loan and mine to take back and use whenever I deemed the time right or the occasion needful.”

“You lie!” Shuldroon shouted.

“I do not lie,” Elminster replied flatly. “Thy bluster notwithstanding.”

“Do you not? Sages have filled books with your falsehoods and thefts down the centuries, old man!”

“So they have, and even told truth about some of them, too. Yet I have not stolen or lied about this gorget. And as for my thefts and lies, I recall very few of them taking place in fair Cormyr. Which means they lie beyond the concerns and reach of the wizards of war.”

“Not so!” several Cormyreans barked in untidy chorus.

Shuldroon added in a rush, “We follow thieves and liars wherever they go and wherever they seek to hide, even unto far and fabled lands! Just as you’ve always done!”

“Then it seems ye’re no better than I,” Elminster replied quietly. “So talk to me not of justice or being in the ‘right.’ Ye bring me no better argument than the menace of might: do as we command, or face our swords and spells. Well, I’ve a reply for that. Go and leave me and these ladies in peace, and I’ll let ye live to swagger around Cormyr with thy swords and spells a while longer.”

“You don’t scare us, old fool.” Shuldroon sneered. “Surrender the gorget, or you will die. Have you not noticed we have you surrounded?”

“So ye do. Well, there’s yet time for ye to show good sense and draw off. This has been one of the better kingdoms, down the years; I’d not want to strike it so hard a blow without giving fair warning.”

“We’ve heard you,” Shuldroon snarled. “Deluded old fool. For far too long you’ve skulked like a thief and a vagabond in the halls of the Dragon Throne, while we’ve watched and done nothing, out of respect for the good