Vangerdahast favored the tapestry that had fallen back into place behind his loyal Laspeera with a faint smile. He knew very well she'd be sighing and rolling her eyes about now.
'Such a task will nettle you as it always does,' he said, 'but you'll do it, darling Lasp, as you always do.' Then the Royal Magician sighed and turned away. 'If you knew just a little less about what I've had to do… and I were a whole lot younger…'
He sighed again, went to one of the magnificently paneled walls of the ready chamber-the only one where tapestries and broad doors were both lacking-and put a finger onto a particular piece of carved trim on the glossy dark phandar wood. It obediently swiveled into the wall, undoing an unseen catch, and the ornate panel just below it smoothly folded down from the wall to become a seat, revealing a shallow drawer set into the wall behind it.
Vangerdahast sat on the seat and pulled open the drawer to reveal a dressed leather desk surface complete with quills, an inkwell, and a small heap of parchments. He plucked up the topmost, set it aside with a snort, took up the one that had been beneath it, nodded, stroked his chin, and settled down to read and hopefully-if the scribes hadn't been too creative-sign this heap of decrees he'd ordered drafted earlier.
There was always much to be done and never enough time to do it.
When, some six parchments later, the faint but approaching din of a raging princess fell upon his ears, echoing down passages and rooms and through several closed doors, he allowed himself the faintest of smiles.
Royal Magician of Suzail was an office that afforded him so little real entertainment, but he was going to enjoy some now.
'Farewell, Halfhap,' Semoor said mockingly. 'Deathtrap inns, dragonfire swords, and all. I wonder where our faithful Purple Dragon shadows are, this time.'
Florin shrugged..'Using a war wizard to scry us so they can stay out of sight, but I'll wager Dauntless is leading them and that they came from yon gate towers on this side of Halfhap. So they got a good look at us when we rode around Halfhap and past them. They'll be somewhere behind us all the way to wherever along the Ride they usually turn back.'
'I'm not complaining,' Pennae said. 'I can still feel that arrow.' She shuddered, shook her head, and then asked, 'They're still out there, aren't they? The ones who attacked us, I mean.'
'Yes,' Doust said quietly. 'Six at least got away. I heard the Dragons talking. They took one alive and questioned him. Our foes were-are-Lord Yellander's bullyblades.'
Pennae cursed and added, 'That's not good.'
No one argued with her.
'I'd rather talk about Shadowdale,' Doust said. 'I've heard 'tis all trees and farms, with the Old Skull landmark along the Ride in its midst. Oh, and the beautiful lady bard Srorm Silverhand that they tell so many tales about dwells there. Yet what's befalling there now, that the queen wants us there with such urgency?'
Semoor snorted. 'The urgency is to get us out of Cormyr, out of the royal hair-'
'Vangerdahast's hair!' Pennae corrected sharply.
'— not any urgency in and about sleepy Shadowdale, I'll wager.'
'Vangerdahast paid us to get out of the realm, that's what he did,' Jhessail said darkly.
'And this bothers you?' Semoor gave her an incredulous look. 'More coin each than we'd probably have made in a summer of hard work, if all of us had been striving together?'
The stare the fire-haired mage gave him back was grim. 'And what if we don't live to reach the border? Vangerdahast is a powerful wizard, remember? Who rules an army of wizards who can watch every step we take and whisk themselves to stand in our path with blasting wands ready, whenever they choose. I suspect Old Thunderspells has every intention of retrieving these gold coins from what's left of us- when we're well away from where the citizens of Suzail can see our smoking bones and mutter unpleasant comments about what happens to heroes of the realm when Vangey gets his hands on them.'
Doust held up a hand and then waved at the trees along the road, beside them and ahead of them as far as the eye could see. 'We're well away from where the citizens of Suzail can see anything now.'
'But not yet where the traders in Halfhap and travelers between Halfhap and Tilver's Gap can't see what happens to us,' Islif said.
'And you think Vangey-or the nearest Purple Dragon or anyone else in all the fair Forest Kingdom, for that matter, gives an altar-warming damn about our fates?' Jhessail's voice was bitter. 'Other than how entertaining the tale of our fall is when told at taverns? Or reassurance that one more dangerous irritant has been removed from their lives?'
'Our little lady hath found armor at last,' Doust murmured. 'Stout, strong, gleaming-and very properly called cynicism.'
Jhessail shot him a searing look, then accompanied it with a certain gesture.
Florin raised his eyebrows at the sight of that rude signal. Semoor and Islif chuckled.
Pennae murmured, 'Teeth at last. I knew she had some…'
'Are you going to be this gloomy all the way to Shadowdale?' Semoor asked Jhessail, his innocent manner a blatant fraud.
'Not much to look forward to, is it?' Pennae teased.
'Neither is my blade up your backside,' Islif said. 'Which is what certain folk riding here are risking by goading our Jhess.'
'Oooh, the threat direct!' Pennae gave Islif a rather disapproving look. 'Haven't learned much subtlety yet, have you, Longface?'
'I have not,' Islif replied flatly. 'Slyhips.'
'Ah,' Semoor told the sky loudly, dusting his hands in evident glee. 'This should be good.'
'Enough' Florin said heavily. 'Semoor, stop goading-hrast it, that goes fot all of us. We'll all die if more outlaws attack us and we're busy tongue-lashing each other and scheming to do worse. We're supposed to be one-a fellowship, a shieldwall!'
Slowing her mount to a walk, Pennae turned in her saddle to fix him with a level look. 'Agreed. Yet when you say that, you really mean, All of you must do as I say, for I stand here, and the shieldwall must form to me, thus.' So I then have a question for you, tall and handsome ranger: Are we always fated to be your slaves? When will the shieldwall form where and when I say?'
Florin frowned in a sudden tense silence. Everyone had slowed their horses. 'I never asked to lead this company,' he said, 'and am less than experienced, but-'
'But someone has to? So I ask again: Why you? I've years of adventuring under my belt, and-'
'And you're a thief,' Jhessail said, 'and known for it. Riding under your command would make us targets for all, where otherwise our knighthoods might see us past some folk without bloodshed. And we all know each othet from growing up together in Espar, and we look to Florin. We chose him; he didn't name himself. He won the charter, yes, but once we're in our saddles and out from under the noses of everyone-except the war wizard spies who are undoubtedly listening to every word of this now and having a good grin-only we know who truly leads. And I like to be led by a man who is my trusted friend and who doesn't want to lead or think himself good at it. Overconfident and glib 'I can handle this' sorts are buffoons. Dangerous buffoons.'
'Hearken for Pennae's answer,' Semoor told Doust lightly. 'Will she admit to being a dangerous buffoon?'
Pennae turned again to Florin and asked calmly, 'Commander, have I your permission to smite yon priest?'
'Only gently. And using nothing that is edged or pointed. Or poisoned.'
'Except your tongue,' Semoor added brightly. 'I'd rather enjoy-'
'I'm death-steel certain you would,' Pennae told him sweetly, bringing her horse no closer to him. 'So, Sir Florin, if you govern how fast we go and how we conduct ourselves along the way, what are your orders? Ride fast and steady, and get ourselves out of Cormyr as fast as we can?'
Florin shrugged. 'I know not. Steady, yes. No thieving or acting like lawless adventurers. No raiding anyone who looks villainous and threatening, just because we happen to see them. No pilfering from orchards.'
'No thieving? After the way we've been treated by Vangerdahast, why not?'
