The lord of the dale invited all of Cormyr into the Tower of Ashaba for a highsun meal as he made himself and his lady available to Sir Tantor, to hear the most important of messages and views from the Forest Kingdom.
The invitation was accepted. Bells rang to bring servants flooding into the feast hall just steps ahead of the hard-striding armsmen of Cormyr-and transform the already-bustling kitchens into a frantic whirlwind of steam and rushing folk and shouts.
'Pray come up to my morning room,' Lord Mourngrym said to Sir Tantor. He led the way up the stairs. Shaerl followed beside the envoy's personal escort, a senior war wizard, as they ascended from the tumult below.
'If we can speak bald truth for a breath or two-' Mourngrym added as they stepped into a room still aromatic with the odor of buttered bread, sausages, roast pheasant in sauce, melted cheese with mustard on biscuits, and the other dishes of a light dawnfry, and he drew the door firmly closed '-pray tell me plainly why you're here.'
Sir Tantor drew himself up to his full height and growled, 'My lord, this is most irregular! While a free and open exchange of views is-'
'Mourngrym,' said the old, gaunt war wizard standing at Shaerl's side, 'I am Luthtor of Suzail, empowered to speak to you with the voice of Azoun and the candor of Vangerdahast. We're here to investigate rumors of Elminster's death, to make sure Zhentil Keep hasn't gained control of, or influence over, this dale-and to strongly put forth the sixtieth or so offer from Azoun that Shadowdale become a protectorate of Cormyr.'
'My thanks for your candor,' Mouragrym said dryly. 'Let us gently refuse Cormyr's kind offer once more, at once, so that no unpleasantness need follow between us. I want to be Azoun's friend-but not his subject. He cannot have me continue as the one if he must insist on the other.'
'Well, if we're being quite candid,' Sir Tantor growled, 'what's to stop us from simply seizing Shadowdale?'
'Me,' Shaerl said sweetly. They all turned to stare at her. 'I have Azoun's personal promise,' she told them, 'that I'd have a free hand in Shadowdale, and that no Purple Dragon nor war wizard of fair Cormyr would meddle east of the Ashaba until I gave them leave to do so.'
'My lady,' Luthtor said sternly, 'you know very well that Azoun's word held only so long as you were on your promised mission for the crown… a mission Vangerdahast considers you abandoned on your wedding day, cleaving to this man'-he bowed to Mourngrym-'rather than your sworn duty.'
'My lord,' Shaerl said, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light, 'you are obviously unaware of the precise wording of Azoun's bidding and my promise, so I'll not argue the point with you. Be assured that if you move against us, Azoun will be foresworn.'
'And if we know nothing of these ah, private words, and present the throne of Shadowdale to him anyway?' Sir Tantor huffed.
'It will be my duty to resist you,' Mourngrym said, 'and that of all the Knights of Myth Drannor.'
'Their fame is not inconsiderable,' the war wizard Luthtor granted. 'But do you seriously think a handful of adventurers, however bold, can stand against the forces accompanying us? More than a dozen war wizards are watching over more than two hundred and sixty veteran armsmen in your feast hall right now.'
'And just how long, Lord Luthtor,' Shaerl asked sweetly, 'do you think all of them would last against the Queen of Aglarond?'
Both Cormyreans paled slightly. The war wizard shrugged and asked, 'And what evidence can you give us you can even contact her, let alone command her to battle at your bidding?'
'None,' Shaerl said softly. 'As with other armed endeavors in life, goodsirs, you'll just have to take that risk and find out the hard way. Or back down, as is far more prudent, and go home wondering for the rest of your lives if we were bluffing.' She seemed to think of something, and added calmly, 'Of course, the second way, you will have a 'rest of your lives' to wonder in.'
'Moreover,' Mourngrym said pleasantly, 'the second way preserves our friendship, whereas the first loses forever any hope Cormyr may have that Shadowdale will not ally with Hillsfar, say, or Sembia, against the Purple Dragon.'
'I…' Sir Tantor seemed unsure of how to proceed. He looked quickly to Luthtor.
The war wizard nodded, smiled, and said, 'Perhaps, indeed, we've speculated with extreme imprudence. Permit me to tender our deepest apologies, and pass on to the other matters we mentioned, to whit-'
'What?' The envoy had turned a dangerous shade of purple. He glared at Luthtor, and snarled, 'You're just going to-back down? Abandon our mission, just like that? Well, be advised that my first recommendation, upon seeing Vangerdahast at our return, will be to repl-'
'Enough of this,' Shaerl snapped in tones that brought the envoy to instant silence. 'Why don't we involve Azoun and Vangy in this discussion directly? I'd like to hear just what they intend.' She held up one finger, and turned a ring upon it so that its black sapphire caught the light. It winked with a blue-white radiance as she stroked it-and both Cormyreans stared at it in surprise.
Like two coldly leveled spears, Shaerl's eyes caught those of the war wizard. 'Shall I speak to them myself, Lord-or will Vangy stop merely listening through you, and have the grace to introduce himself?'
Sir Tantor stared again at the war wizard, and Mourngrym looked as if he were hiding a smile.
Luthtor sat very still, his eyes suddenly older and sadder than they had been. When he spoke, his voice was deeper and rougher than before. 'Well played, li-'
Suddenly the scene before them melted away into swirling mists of gold and gray, and left the two Malaugrym staring at the fetid insides of a dungeon.
'By the blood of Malaug!' Argast snarled, 'is every spell you cast going to twist wild?'
Amdramnar shrugged. 'I've another.' He strode across the cavern and muttered an incantation, raising his hands to trace intricate gestures. The golden mists returned. They swirled around him for a moment-and then turned into bunches of grapes and fell.
Argast watched the fruit splatter on the stone floor and cast a quick look behind him. The torch in its sconce blazed as before, and there was no watching helmed head nor shout of alarm. They were alone in the dungeons of the tower, on the worst guard duty one could draw… unless one were really a Malaugrym, and wanted a little privacy for some spell-casting.
That is, if any spell would work. Amdramnar looked up from the grapes and muttered, 'We don't have time to study that spell again-half their talking'll be done before we're ready.'
Argast growled in slow anger, and said, 'Then it's time for you to take the shape of two guards for a while.'
Amdramnar lifted a questioning eyebrow. His fellow Malaugrym was already blurring and dwindling… until a rat blinked at him, winked once, and then turned to dash away into the darkness.
Amdramnar sighed, sat down, and stretched into the semblance of two bored guards sitting together on a crate, down here in the storage cavern. He arranged weapons and armor to conceal the place at the thighs where the two bodies were joined, and settled down to wait, hoping Argast wasn't making a fatal mistake.
18
From the dungeons, old and dusty rat holes led up to the pantry. In the confusion of all the cooks and scullery maids working in frantic haste and doors everywhere propped open to keep the heat down, the rat was able to streak through the kitchens and outside. The yard behind the tower was crowded with youngsters peeling potatoes and carting away greens, but no one noticed a rodent scuttling around the corner, into the tall grass.
In a trice, the rat became a pigeon, and ascended in a flutter of wings to an open tower window.
The casement gave in to the end of a hall lined with tapestries, paintings, and closed doors. At the far end of the corridor, where it opened out into a meeting with other passages, daylight gleamed on the armor of a tower guard. The guard turned his head as the pigeon's wings blocked the sunlight, but Argast hastily landed on the windowsill. The guard gave the pigeon a glance, then looked away again.
It was sheer mischance that he yawned and looked back down the hall as the pigeon was rising up into a man.
