Galdus watched the brigands struggle, slipping and sliding on the coins and swords that lay dropped and forgotten all over his recently cleaned floor. They crashed aside chairs and even a table, yelling in muffled fury and mounting fear, and rolled about, their struggles taking them vaguely away from the bar.
The front door groaned open again, and Galdus looked up warily, wondering if he could reach any of the swords on the floor. The man who stepped inside, however, was Elminster.
"My apologies, Galdus," he said. "I'd something else to attend to and no time to do it in. But 'tis done now."
"Can I-may I ask what it was?"
"I had to talk a few frightened archpriests in Baldur's Gate out of starting a religious war-on each other."
"Why bother?" Galdus asked, frowning. Then his frown deepened. "Did it work?"
"No, of course not, so I had to scare them into a truce by showing them what I'd do if they didn't make peace."
"You flattened both temples," Galdus said hopefully.
Elminster grinned. "I see ye know the basics. I did indeed. Rebuilding and trying to keep folk from looting will keep both sides busy for a time." He stepped carefully around the tangled knot of rolling, kicking brigands and continued. "And to answer thy other question, I bothered because I didn't want to see a lot of homes burned and innocent folk slain in the Gate over some disagreement that had nothing to do with them." He sighed. "This is going on all over Toril, right now. First thing this morn, I had to do the same thing to head off rival factions of illithids, in a city in the heart of Raurin."
Galdus stared at him. "Mind flayers? You stopped mind flayers from killing each other? Why?"
"They're intelligent folk too, just as ye, I, and these dolts here are. And besides, they're sitting on enough battle spells there to destroy half the eastern Realms! I didn't want any tentacle-heads to remember that and start tearing open vaults and using 'em. A few hundred years more, and most of the scrolls will have crumbled away to nothing… and it'll take them half that time to dig out all the stonework I piled up on top of those vaults!"
Galdus grinned. "Make sure you check back with me in a few hundred years, then, to let me know Faerun is safe to live in at last. In the meantime"-he gestured down at the tightening mass of bodies on the floor-"what do we do with these?"
"Roll them into thy outhouse and burn it," Elminster said calmly.
10
Daggerdale, Kythorn 18
The Mountains of Tethyamar rose like a distant wall ahead on their left as the three rangers in worn and patched leathers rode warily into another soft-shadowed evening. They were headed into the heart of lawless Daggerdale, Randal Morn had warned them; reaches where steads lay abandoned to the forest, orcs and hobgoblins roamed the land in raiding bands and clashed whenever they met, and monsters lurked in the ruins and woody tangles for the unwary. For all those dire warnings, they'd ridden all day and seen nothing more deadly than birds. Of course, Itharr reflected, they had no idea just what might have seen them.
"Oh, but the land is beautiful," he sang softly as they forded their third tinkling stream.
"And the living carefree," Belkram sang the next line, heavy irony in his tone.
Sharantyr chuckled and took up the song. "So come, ye fairest of dark-eyed maidens…"
"And come dwell in the greenwood with me!" Itharr and Belkram sang together. Ahead of them, a gore-crow took wing heavily from a dead branch and flapped away with a derisive caw.
"What are you, a bard?" Itharr called after it. The bird circled, winked at him once with a very steady black eye, and flew away.
"The Simbul?" Belkram breathed the question as they all stared after it.
"Without a doubt," Sylune's voice came to them from the stone in his breast pocket. "She probably appreciates your singing about as much as I do."
"A little less sarcasm there," Belkram told her. The stone thrummed against his chest in reply. The handsome ranger stood up in his stirrups to look all around and sighed. "I suppose we'd better start looking for somewhere we can defend-and protect the horses, too-and camp for the night."
"Agreed," Sharantyr said, drawing up beside him on her patient steed. "But after we're out of the saddle, I'd like to talk about the wisdom of riding aimlessly around the most dangerous territory we can find, now that we lack a false Elminster to escort. Surely these deadly shapeshifters can find us wherever we are?"
Belkram sighed again. "To hear good sense spoken so directly and clearly is always disconcerting. It makes debate seem so… foolish."
"Spoken like a man!" Itharr agreed in robust tones. "Exactly," Shar and the stone that was Sylune said in perfect unison. After a moment, everyone laughed.
Belkram rose again in his saddle still chuckling, and pointed northwest. "Is that a suitable place I see before me?"
"Pray, good knight, ride ye and see," Itharr quoted in response.
Belkram looked quickly at the lady ranger who rode with them, cleared his throat, and said loudly, "Ah, no, Itharr. Not that ballad. Really."
Shar gave him a smile, a twinkle in her gray-green eyes, and sang steadily, "For I crave a bank by a stream running softly, where ye'll lay me down and make love to me!"
"Oh, no!" Itharr said in shocked tones. "You were right, bold Belkram. Not a suitable ballad at all!"
"Belt up and stow it," Belkram told him dryly. "Well, what say you? Does anyone know what that place might be?"
"It's a little hard to see from inside this pocket," Sylune said sweetly. "Perhaps if we get closer and you dismount, I could tell something about it. We'd best poke about a bit first, to see if that's a prudent course of action."
Itharr and Sharantyr both spread eloquent empty hands in answer to Belkram's query. "We're out of the bits of Daggerdale I know," Shar added. "It looks more like a manor on a hill than a keep, but just as far past its proud days as Irythkeep. We'll be lucky to find any part of it still with a roof."
"Well, we've been very lucky in avoiding rain thus far," Itharr observed brightly.
"Hush!" both of the other riders said severely.
"Do you want to bring it on?" Sharantyr demanded, scowling. "I've heard of lump-headed idiots before, but-"
"You weren't prepared for what a couple of Harpers can do," Sylune said loudly enough for them all to hear, startling Belkram into nearly falling out of his saddle.
"Stead)' on, there," Itharr commented. "The bit of the horse that snorts and has ears is the front. Now, all you have to do is keep a leg either side of the beast and that front bit pointed-"
"You can belt up any time, friend," Belkram said easily. 'Your tongue runs on almost as much as Elminster's!"
The stone in his pocket laughed heartily.
"Enough," Sharantyr said, her eye on the lowering sun. Trap or no, let's look at this place before darkness leaves us no choices at all."
The ruin they were fast approaching stood on a grassy hill whose steep slopes fell away into thick, tangled woods to the east and south. Broken land, all hills and copses, lay beyond it to the north, and there seemed to be a patchwork of woodlots and meadows-the former manor farmlands, no doubt-to the west. An overgrown road of sorts crossed the rolling country before them, leading down into the woods and thence up that oddly bare hill to the ruin. Why had no saplings sprung up on the hillsides?
"I don't like the look of it," Itharr said.
"Nor do I," Belkram said, "but I must remind you that I've heard those same words from you about seventy times since we began faring together."