05 The Dream Sphere's by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Realms, Forgotten]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T15:53:08.429000+00:00

Lord Rhammas Thann turned the wooden device over in his hands, running his fingers over the raised carving of a raven perched on a horse's head. It was well crafted, but not a precious piece. A man might throw such a thing aside on any number of whims. "This is indeed my family crest, and I seem to remember this pendant. How did you come by it?" Lilly put a hand to her throbbing temples and took a deep, steadying breath. "My mother passed it on, sir, along with her story." "Which, I can only assume, you intend to share with me. My time is limited, so please get on with it." Lilly was hard pressed to understand the nature of these limitations. The room to which she had been brought was a gentleman's study of sorts, but she saw no evidence that it had witnessed any serious study. A few books lay on a shelf, but their leather bindings were not creased and seamed by reading. A dusty quill tilted out of a glass inkwell that contained nothing but a dry stain. The only object that showed evidence of use was the set of dog-eared cards scattered about the table. The gentleman himself showed similar signs of ennui. Rhammas Thann must have been a handsome man once, and he still cut a rather dashing figure. His hair was thick and silver, and his eyes, though rather bleary-whether from an excess of morning ale or a lack of interest in the life he led, Lilly could not say-were a striking shade of silvery gray. She could understand why her mother had spoken so wistfully of this man. "My mother gave this to me, along with my name. She said to seek you out and tell you both these things if ever I was in dire need. I am that, but you can believe me when I say I never intended to come." "You said your name was Lilly," he remembered. "I am sorry, but I do not see the significance." "Do you recall a place called the Dryad's Garden? It was a tavern in the Dock Ward, long since closed. All the girls were given names of flowers. Marigold, Pansy, Rose. My mother's name was Violet. Her hair was of like color to mine, if that helps." Memory flickered in the man's eyes, and then wide-eyed chagrin. He looked at her closely for the first time. "Violet's child-and mine, I suppose. Yes, of course. The resemblance is there to see." "So your steward said, as he rushed me out of sight," Lilly said in a wry tone. When she had been presented at the servants' entrance, the steward-an austere fellow who looked as if discretion was the sum and essence of his moral code-took one glance at her face and then hustled her into a private room. He'd tended her injuries, fed her a vile-tasting healing potion, and heard her tale. Next he'd hurried off to arrange the interview, not even asking to see the pendant she offered as proof.

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