“It has cost me more than that, I fear,” Rowen continued. “I slipped my iron dagger out and managed to plunge it into Xanthon’s stomach, then held on as he stumbled back from the edge of the rim. Boldovar started after me, then the others appeared, and I took Cadimus and fled into a grove of the largest trees I can ever recall seeing.
“The ghazneths stopped at the edge and stood there hurling the vilest curses I’ve ever heard, and I couldn’t understand why they didn’t come after me until I looked around and saw the elven glyphs. They were similar to the glyphs we found on those twisted trees over the tombs Boldovar and the others came from-except these trees were not twisted and diseased. They were all beautiful and healthy, and when I ran my finger along the letters, the songs made me cry. Even the ghazneths fell quiet until the music was done.”
“A whole copse of Trees of the Body?” Vangerdahast gasped.
A Tree of the Body was a sort of memorial created by the ancient elves who had inhabited Cormyr before men. According to Tanalasta-and the princess was known for being well read on such things-when an esteemed elf died, his fellows sometimes inscribed his epitaph on the trunk of a small sapling and buried the body beneath the roots. Vangerdahast did not understand all of the subtleties of such commemorations, but he had never before heard of even two of the majestic trees being found in a single location, much less a whole copse.
“You are sure they were Trees of the Body?” Vangerdahast asked.
“Later I became sure,” Rowen said. “There were hundreds of them, and the ghazneths kept me trapped among them for nearly a tenday. They watched me constantly and were there waiting every time I tried to leave. One night, I decided the time had come to die or escape, and I was riding out when the ghost of a handsome elf lord rose from the ground before me. He wore a three-spiked circlet set with a single purple stone, and in his hand he carried a golden staff with the haft twisted in a ropelike pattern, and he spoke to me harshly.
” ‘Nine days have thou forsaken thy duty hiding here, human, and nine days have we sheltered thee, but ere thou leave, know thy death atones nothing. To undo thy betrayal, a greater amends must thou make at a cost greater to thee than death.’
“I did not need to ask what betrayal, for I still carried Alaphondar’s letter close to my heart and knew well how I had failed. I had let my love for Tanalasta blind me to my duty, and I knew that Cormyr would pay dearly for my failure. What could I do but bow my head and reply, ‘Milord, I would redeem myself. My only question is how.’
“The elf warned me again of the terrible cost, and again I told him I would gladly pay. The elf smiled then and took Cadimus’s reins from my hand. He whispered something in the horse’s ear that caused him to nicker and nuzzle me on the cheek, then turn and flee to the far side of the grove.
“The elf spoke again. ‘Know, human,’ he said, ‘that I am Iliphar, King of Scepters, and this grove is my burial place, where a thousand treasures have lain hidden for more long ages than I can count. Follow me that I may bestow on thee the greatest of all, the Scepter of Lords.’
“King Iliphar led me to the center of the grove, where stood an ancient oak the size of a castle keep. The ghost pointed at the base of the tree and said, ‘Take my scepter and give it to thy king. Tell him that when wielded with compassion, it has the power to smite any elven-spawned evil-but only given that all the wrongs that spawned that evil in the first place have been set right. By surrendering the scepter to a human, I am righting the first. It will be for he who wields this weapon to right the other.’
“And that was all King Iliphar said,” said Rowen. “He stepped away and faded back into his tree. I drew my dagger and began to dig where he had pointed. No sooner had my blade touched the soil than the ghazneths screeched in triumph and streaked in to attack. I thought for a moment they had deceived me again and tricked me into dispelling the grove’s magic protection-which I am sure now was their entire purpose in luring me north in the first place-but if so, the last trick was on them. An army of elf ghosts rose from beneath their trees to meet the ghazneths, and the trees wove their branches into an impenetrable net of protection. The ghazneths tore into the limbs with fire and blight, and the ghosts tore into them with sword and club. I concentrated on my digging, and it was not long before I had wormed my way well down among the roots.
“But even the elves could not hold on forever, and it seemed the deeper I dug, the weaker they grew. By the time I finally broke into Iliphar’s treasure chamber, the great tree branches behind me were cracking and snapping as the ghazneths tore through. I pulled my commander’s ring and activated the light spell, then cried out at all the treasure I saw heaped beneath the tree. There were hills of it, glowing with magic and crusted with enough gems to dazzle the eyes of old Thauglor himself.
“A loud rumble rolled down the tunnel from outside, then all the trees started to sing at once. I rushed into the chamber and began tearing through the treasure heaps. There were wands and staves and rods of every ilk. Any one of them and none of them could have been the Scepter of Lords, and I despaired of ever finding the right one.
“Then a terrible rasping broke out in the tunnel behind me. Thinking to bring the roof down on my pursuer, I grabbed a silver sword and rushed toward the mouth-and that is when I saw it, resting in the crooks of two roots, with a thin circlet of gold hanging from its haft.”
“The Scepter of Lords?” Vangerdahast asked.
Rowen’s pearly eyes rose and fell in the darkness. “It was a golden scepter fashioned in the shape of sapling oak, with finely wrought branches sprouting off at odd angles and a huge pommel of amethyst carved in the figure of an acorn. It was the most beautiful treasure in the chamber, and there was no mistaking its power.
“I snatched the scepter off its hooks and stepped off to the side of the tunnel, still fumbling with the crown on its haft as I cocked the thing back. The crimson eyes of a ghazneth appeared in the tunnel mouth, and I threw my weight into a mighty strike.
“But as I brought the head down, a hellish curse came from the tunnel and spilled out into the room in billowing black fumes. The ground shook and cracked beneath me. The floor gave way, and I fell into this horrid abyss, and I have been no more able to leave than you have.”
“What of the scepter?” Vangerdahast’s heart was pounding so ferociously he could barely hear his own question. “Tell me you didn’t lose the scepter!”
“Of course not.” Rowen’s fingertips crackled with tiny balls of lightning, illuminating the ledge in twinkling bursts of silver. He reached behind him and produced a small, triple-spiked circlet with a pale amethyst set in the center. “Nor the crown that went with it.”
Vangerdahast snatched the crown from the ghazneth’s hand. It was as dull as lead, all the golden magic gone from it.
“You didn’t!”
“I’m afraid I did, before I realized what I was turning into,” said Rowen. “On the other hand, it was a useful lesson. The Scepter of Lords is still full of magic and hidden safely away-someplace where Nalavara’s goblins will never find it, and where it hasn’t been a constant temptation to me.”
“That’s something.” Vangerdahast flipped the leaden crown in his fingers, silently bemoaning the loss of such ancient magic. He could have learned much by examining it-almost as much as he had by listening to the tale of its recovery. He patted Rowen warmly on the knee-then instantly regretted the gesture when it elicited a shudder of revulsion from the ghazneth. “You’ve done well, Rowen. We can make this work for Cormyr.”
“How?” The ghazneth waved his crackling fingers around the cavern in despair. “How can we make this work for anyone?”
Vangerdahast smiled. “Nalavara went to a lot of trouble to trick you into breaking the power of Iliphar’s burial ground. She wouldn’t have done that unless she was worried about the scepter-a weapon you’ve kept out of her hands.”