Targon and so stopped worrying about anything-thinking about anything-at all.
The body that had been Targon calmly closed his spellbook, pushed the limp body of Aumrune off the bed, and walked over it to thrust aside the curtain, go to the bedchamber door beyond, and restore the little warding spell Aumrune should not have been able to break-but Old Ghost could.
Door sealed again, 'Targon' kicked the body of Aumrune well clear of the bed and cast a blasting spell at it, destroying the largely burned-out body he had just vacated. As he waited for the room to stop rocking and thundering, he reached for his robe. If anyone bothered to come and investigate the brief tumult, he would inform them he'd just been forced to 'execute the traitor Aumrune.'
He calmly stepped over the ashes and the few lumps of larger bone and went seeking the ring.
Things fallen and forgotten had a habit of being needed or useful later.
Right now, Old Ghost was ready for a lot of 'later.' With Horaundoon elsewhere and his own hunger for life- energy sated for now, Old Ghost intended to make this new host body last a long, long time.
Brorn Hallomond flinched and then grabbed for his dagger.
'You'll cut yourself with that, mind,' the beautiful woman on the other side of his tiny fire said calmly. 'Don't bother. I mean you no harm.'
'So you say,' Brorn snarled, letting his hand fall away from the dagger without unsheathing it. 'Myself, I've not known war wizards to tell the truth overmuch.'
'Ah, you know who I am. That'll save us some time.' Laspeera sat down crosslegged, just as the bullyblade was sitting-only right across the fire from Brorn. She gave him a good look down her unlaced bodice as she did so and saw his eyes flicker.
'You're Laspeera,' Brorn said bluntly. 'The realm says you sleep with Vangerdahast and boss half the war wizards for him while his back is turned bossing rhe other half. You're here to taunt and kill me, right?'
'Wrong. I need you alive, unharmed, and able-and so does the Crown. The royal family specifically said they needed you to serve Cormyr. You will be well rewarded for it. Not to do something that you'll be betrayed or blamed for later. But a little spying on the man who is most responsible for the death of Lord Yellander.'
'The Crown said that? King Azoun, himself?'
'Himself. Yes, Brorn Hallomond, this I swear. The king and queen both feel your loyalty was ill repaid by the fate of your master. They admire that loyalty and deem you a capable man they want working for the Dragon Throne, not against it. And not iiving as an outlaw, doing violence to every passing citizen of Cormyr who might yield a few coppers to you.'
Laspeera plucked up one of the sacks she'd brought with her and tossed it over the fire to land just beside Brorn's right hand. It landed with the heavy clink of coins. 'Open it.'
Brorn eyed her, and then reached for it without taking his gaze from her. He dragged it into his lap, worked the knot open, and then held it out and dumped a little of its contents out onto the leaf mold beside him, at arm's length. Gold coins, every one. Bright golden lions of the realm.
'The other sack's full of the same,' Laspeera said. 'All good coins, none of them marked or enspelled. As good as anything in the king's own purse.'
'Mine if I do what?' Brorn asked.
'Spy on Vangerdahast and any of his agents-war wizards who serve him more than they serve the king, plus his own thieves and spies-for me. Just watch them, mind. I am not asking you to try to fight or even reveal yourself to the Royal Magician. Just watch, then tell me of any treason you witness or suspect.'
'And how will I tell you?'
'Whenever you see me. I'll find you from time to time, and I'll bring more gold with me.' 'That's all?' Brorn asked.
Laspeera got up, pulled open her bodice to bare her front from waist to shoulders, and purred, 'That's all for now.'
Brorn swallowed, stared at what had been bared to his gaze for a good long time, then lifted his eyes to meet hers and said roughly, 'I'll do it.'
Laspeera's smile was warm with promise. 'You won't regret it.'
Making no move to cover herself, she added, 'Please don't be surprised or offended if I-or all of the royal family-pretend not to know you, if you happen to see us, even in private. If we think Vangerdahast is spying on us at that moment, our acting thus may be all that protects your life. Remember always that you will be safest if he doesn't notice you at all.'
She leaned forward over the fire.
'As for me, I've been watching you for a long time, and I like what I see.' Then she blew him a kiss and added softly, 'Take care of yourself, Brorn.'
A moment later, she was gone. Vanished as if she'd never been there at all, leaving only the other sack of coins across the flickering flames from him.
After a moment, Brorn cursed, raced around the fire, and clawed that sack open. More golden lions and-he plucked up a few at random and eyed them very closely-aye, as good as any minting he'd ever seen.
'Tymora,' he muttered, 'I don't know what I did to gain your good graces, but-thank you. A thousand thank yous. I hope you won't be offended if I bury most of these, take a handful, and go and get myself a playpretty for a long night of proper rutting before I seek out one of your altars and make a proper offering.'
Filling his pouch, he scooped coins back into the sacks, tetied them, and sat back with a disbelieving shake of his head.
'Holy dancing dung-goblins,' he told the fife in happy disbelief.
Tymora was merciful. The fire didn't answer back.
Chapter 11
Deliverance from tumult and fire
For to us all, when most afraid Comes a pressing need for aid Deliverance from tumult and fire Challenges, or doom most dire; Aid, mayhap, for a bold Harper bright Or means to drive down a lich or a wight Or wise words, hope, a smile or a kiss- Answered need our greatest bliss
Princess Alusair was rather proud of herself. For months now she'd been trading dark, well-made, but plain gowns-of the sort one of her maids could just get away with wearing on special occasions outside the Royal Palace-for specific garments from among their 'everydays.' She'd built up quite a bundle of patched and worn smocks, aprons, breeches, jerkins, and hooded half-cloaks. These gains, bundled up together, were all hidden, stuffed undet a loose tread-board on the private stairs down to the Princes' Stable. Though she and Tana, princesses both, now shared that little enclave in the sprawling Palace srables, it was still 'the Princes' Stable' and probably always would be. Her sister rode only at regular times these days, so for the rest of the time the narrow, dark stair was Alusair's own.
Wherefore she now had suitable garments in which to depart the Palace by way of those same stables, without immediately being recognized as a princess. Which meant she was spared the racket of alarm gongs and horns and the humiliation of being pounced upon by well-meaning Highknights and Purple Dragons and war wizards and dragged before her royal father-or mother or both-for discipline.
Hmm. Discipline. Her shapely behind was still burning, but the spanking hadn't chastened her one whit. Gods above, but her mother could whack hard!
Alusair's rump burned a little more painfully at the mere recollection. Not to mention the homespun rasping over rawness wherever where her silken clout didn't cover her.
She was, she'd discovered, actually a little proud of her burning behind. Though it was hardly something she could show casually to passersby, she felt it gave her something in common with the scarred old retired Purple
