Surth, he saw, was struggling to his feet, holding out another of the gewgaws in one hand as if it were towing him forward.
"We . . . we're being led like mules," he gasped, suddenly drenched in fear-sweat. "Oh, gods, we're going to die!"
As if in reply to his words, another silent armored warrior floated into view along the trail. It headed purposefully for Surth, raising its blade as it came.
Surth threw the gewgaw in his hand, and Bezrar hastily buried his face in the moss and leaves.
The blast was even bigger this time.
The tug of the thing in his hand grew insistent. He struggled to his feet and stumbled toward the trail. Surth was reeling among the trees-and there was already another gewgaw in his hand.
"Oh, Bane and black doom," Bezrar muttered helplessly, as he found himself heading for the trail as fast as his shaking limbs could take him.
* * * * *
"Wait," Rhauligan said suddenly. "What about that . . . protection?"
"The stars of Mystra did not bar me," Laspeera said, "and nothing steered me in my reading. I think."
"You truly think the goddess herself . . . ?"
"I don't know," Caladnei said firmly. "Narnra . . . did you see seven stars? Blue-white fire?"
The Silken Shadow stared at the three Cormyreans, sudden hope kindling. I could play this as a shield, try to win free of this room and these three, and . . . and . . .
As she discovered she didn't know what she'd want to do if she did win her freedom, Laspeera suddenly turned her back.
She's still reading my thoughts! She knows this would be a ruse.
"No," the senior War Wizard said firmly, turning around again to face Narnra. "Where the Mother of Mysteries is concerned, Narnra, none of us who work magic can be sure of anything. Your mind has already shown me that you saw seven stars go out, one by one, as the Mage Royal used spells on you. Yet Mystra's protection may still encloak you, whether you know it or not."
Caladnei nodded gravely. "I'd not like to proceed unless you say so, Narnra Shalace. Mystra may take note of your willingness or your refusal. So … what say you?"
My choice handed right back to me. Narnra stared at the three Cormyreans, wondering what other twists this day might hold . . . and what she should say now.
The three Cormyreans stared back at her, waiting.
* * * * *
"Well, Lady Joysil, I'm certain that everyone believes they have the misfortune to live in truly troubled times for Cormyr," Lady Honthreena Ravensgar observed, triumphantly taking the largest nut-cake with one hand and reaching for her just-refilled goblet with the other. "But truly I think we do." She waved a profusely ring-adorned hand and added, "Oh, I know that dreadful Devil Dragon no longer menaces half the realm, gulping up knights and soldiers like snacks while ores and goblins march, but . . . really, are things any better now?"
Lady Baerdra Monthor did not wait for the Lady Joysil Ambrur to answer but said darkly, "Well, unlike some at this table, I am truly a daughter of Marsember-and any misfortune to befall the Obar-skyrs and the precious Royal Court in Suzail delights me! I'd be just as happy if they all fell down some dragon's gullet by nightfall today and let us regain rule of our own city! All these flirtations with Chauntea and boy kings and that unspeakable Alusair riding wild over half the kingdom-"
"The male half, dear," old Lady Hornsryl Wavegallant observed meaningfully-then tittered.
Lady Monthor waited for the ripple of catty mirth to die, and then resumed her verbal onslaught right where she'd left off. "- While some unknown little hussy of an outlander runs the War Wizards, and Obarskyrs trammel the rights of nobles here, there, and everywhere! Gods above look down, could they do worse?'
"Well," Lady Thornra Bracegauntlet said gently, "my sympathies lie with Filfaeril. A true Queen, of dignity and breeding, watching in silence all those years whilst Azoun bedded everyone who didn't flee in her skirts the moment his pennants were seen atop a distant hill-"
"Ah, yes," Lady Monthor sighed, looking at the ceiling in fond reverie and almost spilling her goblet.
But for the briefest of exasperated sighs, Lady Bracegauntlet ignored the interjection, and swept on. "-then watching her own daughter tear the codpiece off any young man to take her fancy, while the other daughter goes all foolish over a bad noble and goes and dies bearing his child-and how are all the rest of us to know it's legitimate and deserves to someday wear a crown?-and-"
"Years must pass before that little brat gets measured for any crowns," Lady Ravensgar said darkly. "There's many a royal get that's been fitted for his coffin before his coronet!"
"Oh, stop hinting, Honthreena!" Lady Wavegallant said firmly. "If you've started or joined one of these little conspiracies, tell us! We want to hear all about it! As for Filfaeril, I hear she's doing quite well in the bedchamber herself these days with that old stuffy fool of a sage, Alaphondar!"
The Lady Joysil Ambrur had said little and continued to do so. She smiled over her favorite tallglass, watched her wine and cakes disappear with frightening rapidity, and deftly tugged out the choicest gossip. The nine noble ladies of Cormyr who'd been lucky enough to receive an invitation to this highsun-sup cooperated with enthusiasm-for they were only too eager to demonstrate how in the know they were. Little hard truth about conspiracies emerged, but Caladnei the Mage Royal, the Steel Regent, and the Dowager Queen Filfaeril and her antics with Alaphondar all came in for some colorful conversation.
After all, she thought with a smile-aside from occasional uncomfortable duties in the bedchamber regarding the provision of family heirs, and spending as much money on fripperies as possible, of course-that is what noble ladies are for.
* * * * *
Rauthur turned suddenly. "What was that?"
"My . . . diversion," the Red Wizard murmured. "Merely a few bewildered blunderers encountering the helmed horrors to snare the attention of your fellow War Wizards-just in case some of them are in the habit of spying on Vangerdahast."
Huldyl Rauthur mopped his pale face, sighed, and whispered, "Right. I see. Well, here we are. This is one of the 'back ways in' to Old Thun-er, Vangerdahast's sanctum."
"Old Thunderspells? I've heard that term before," Starangh murmured. "Are we likely to encounter alarm spells, or guardians?"
"No, no, we're inside all that. Vangey can't do spellwork if his own castings keep setting off alarms and spell-backlashes. We just have to keep fairly quiet, because he has a guest."
"Who might that be?"
"I don't know, but he's talking to someone who's right here to move things for him, not someone at the other end of a farscrying spell or crystal." The War Wizard led the way cautiously along a dimly lit passage that smelled of damp earth. The tiles were damp underfoot, and the rough-block stone walls were pierced at intervals by closed doors. "Pantries and such-oh, there is one thing we have to watch out for!"
"Rauthur," the wizard called Darkspells said silkily, laying a hand on the War Wizard's shoulder, "I don't like surprises. You should know that by now."
"Uh, ah, yes, Lord! I-I-merely mean I forgot to mention something! Uh, tha-that Vangerdahast conjures pairs of floating eyes and flying hands that he uses as fetch-and-carry servitors . . . they won't be along here, but we mustn't go left up ahead or we may run into them-and of course, he sees through them, and . . ."
"Yes, that would be unfortunate. Is there anything else you're having difficulty remembering, friend Huldyl?"
"N-no, Lord Harnrim. I-uh, through here. There're steps up. You wanted to see Vangerdahast at work. . . ."
"Indeed," the Red Wizard breathed, his voice the merest of whispers and his hand remaining on Rauthur's shoulder. "Show me."