[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

one only he knew about, would be even more secure.
Two mages that would be easily found were Jhessail and Ulistyl, Knights based
in Shadowdale.
Giving Irendue a cheery wave and miming the biting off of a finger (he'd
devoured her thumbs thus far, while punishing her, and planned to make of her
fingers a long-lasting snack), Lorgyn replaced the padlock that only he had a
key for, and went to the next wagon to rouse his men. He wondered briefly how
they could sleep through each other's snoring.
"Up, lads," he said, shaking and slapping with brisk enthusiasm. " Tis time we
set off for Shadowdale. I think we're all due for a little rest. . . and
that's the place."
"Urggh," his cook said, "ye want dawnfry first?"
Lorgyn shook his head. The cook eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. Pendle
never refused an early meal, even when it was only cold partridge from the
night before but this was three days now. . . .
Lorgyn gave the man's back a soft smile, and resolved to eliminate him as soon
as the wagon was rumbling along the last stretch, between Shadowdale and the
Tower of Mortoth. Yes roasted alive on a spit in his own oversalty brown sauce
would be fitting, too.
The gate guards were almost as sleepy and surly as his own grumbling men, but
at last they did their work with bars and chains. Pendle's three wagons
rumbled out of Tilverton, the first farers forth onto the road.
Even the horses complained as their burdens groaned and bumped along east
toward Shadowdale. Pendle's men rode all around them with ready weapons
ED GREENWOOD
and sleepy faces, wondering what madness had taken their master this time.
Pendle smiled back at them all, and more than one man shivered at the soft
promise in that smile.
The Castle of Shadows, Shadowhome, Midsummer Day
The glimmer of the scrying portal faded as it sank into the shadows, spinning
away into nothingness. The face above its dissolution was a mask of wiggling,
questing worms, but owned eyes that blazed like two lanterns of raging
spellfire. Worms beneath them parted, and a calm voice said to the vast,
long-empty chamber of the Castle of Shadows, "It is time to move at last. Let
the hunt begin in earnest."
Faerun, Shadowdale, Midsummer Day
The horn had cried out peace and parley, so the guards at the bridge over the
Ashaba had not roused the folk of the tower in swift earnest. Lord Mourngrym
and Lady Shaerl had been in the morning room over a leisurely dawnfry when
their heralds brought word of the coming of a special envoy of Cormyr, Sir
Tantor Dauntinghorn.
Just as they were, the lord and lady hastened down to the sward outside the
tower, intent on welcoming the envoy and seeing to the needs of his large
escort of Purple Dragons and war wizards.
With a glint in his eye, Mourngrym assured the stiff and magnificently
mustachioed Sir Tantor that he was not now standing in a holding of Zhentil
Keep, and that all minds in the dale were free of insidious Zhentarim
276
ALL SHADOWS FLED
spells. He thanked Cormyr for its obvious intent to do battle with the Zhent
evil, given the handsome array of battle might and ready sorcery, come so long
and dusty a way from the Forest Kingdom to Shadowdale still proudly
independent. He added that he hoped there would always be warm friendship
between Cormyr and Shadowdale coupled with mutual respect for each other's
views, aims, and continued freedom.
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 ShaeiTs 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
ED GREENWOOD
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." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]