Cormyr: a novel by Ed Greenwood; Jeff Grubb

Author:Ed Greenwood; Jeff Grubb
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Canadian, General, Science Fiction, Wizards, Science fiction, Fiction, Forgotten realms (Imaginary place)
ISBN: 9780786905034
Publisher: TSR
Published: 1996-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17: Meetings

Year of the Gauntlet

(1369 DR)

The man in the gem-studded tunic and cloth-of-gold breeches knelt, drew his sword, and laid it at the feet of the silent man in robes.

Still on his knees, the gaudily dressed nobleman looked up and said firmly, "I, Embryn Crownsilver, being mindful of what I do, solemnly pledge my honor, my blade, and the arm that wields it to support you as Regent of Cormyr. I will fight to bring about the downfall of the decadent Obarskyrs, who have ruled far too long." His last words rang around the small, high-ceilinged antechamber.

"Take up your sword," the man he was kneeling before said quietly. "Your words will be remembered."

Rather uncertainly the Crownsilver noble rose from his knees, jeweled blade in hand. Sheathing it with a flourish, he turned, half-cloak swirling, and strode hastily away.

The man in robes watched him go. The nobles of this realm certainly talked to one another swiftly. That was the fifth pledge this morning, and nothing had been said in public yet about a regency. Not that such a silence was all that surprising, to many, in Suzail especially, the word 'regent' was synonymous with 'tyrant.' Or one could just say, 'Salember.'

Vangerdahast the Royal Regent. The robed man smiled thinly and struck a dramatic pose, shading his eyes as he stared at the far wall of the chamber, an imaginary crown on his brow. Then he snorted in self-mockery and turned back to his spellbooks. Strange things happen to kingdoms when folk start getting ideas…

* * * * *

Not all that far away from the palace, in the nearest wing of the court, one nobleman turned to another and said, "If my son ever gets back from traipsing around the wilderness with Princess Alusair, I'm going to send him away from the realm for a month or so. I don't want someone thinking he might make a good king, then sliding a sword through him to preclude that chance."

"A Skatterhawk on the throne?" Sardyn Wintersun mused. "You know, I can see that. Does your son still think the moon, sun, and stars ride in the heart of the wayward princess?"

Narbreth Skatterhawk looked a little smug. "He does, my lord, and I can say more. A Purple Dragon she sent back from Eveningstar with their last report says he saw her kiss him, right on the lips, and hungrily, like a tavern wench, in front of everyone!"

Sardyn chuckled and ran a hand through his white-streaked hair. "I mean no slight to our friendship, my lord, but it's not for nothing that the common folk say Alusair would kiss her horse if it trotted up to her!"

The head of House Skatterhawk laughed, a little stiffly, but whatever he might have said was swept aside by a cheerful greeting from behind them both. "Well met this fair day, pillars of the realm!"

Sardyn rolled his eyes once in silent eloquence before he turned, and Narbreth almost sputtered with laughter. Almost.

Ondrin Dracohorn was resplendent in flaming

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