Elminster Enraged: The Sage of Shadowdale by Ed Greenwood

Author:Ed Greenwood
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction / Fantasy
ISBN: 9780786960293
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 2012-04-15T07:42:54+00:00

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

A ROOM FOR THE NIGHT

Not surprisingly for a fortress built as a prison, Castle Irlingstar didn’t have many outside balconies. One of its few opened off the records room, adjacent to Farland’s own office.

Wizard of War Gulkanun headed out onto it now, Longclaws following him as far as the records room. There the curse-ridden wizard turned, leaned back against the desk, and drew two wands from his belt. Though he said not a word, his intent was obvious: to keep everyone at bay, back where they couldn’t see what Gulkanun did. The magic of opening a small breach in the wards was a war wizard secret, and would be kept that way.

Farland glowered at Longclaws, who met his gaze with a faint smile. They both knew what Gulkanun was doing, but that didn’t mean the lord constable had to like it. So many folk were trying to give him orders in his own castle that he was on the verge of losing track of them all, hrast it.

This Gulkanun—a decent sort, as far as war wizards went—needed the breach to spell speak with Glathra Barcantle back in Suzail, to report the deaths and inquire if the two new prisoners were indeed the undercover Crown agents they claimed to be.

Glathra. The lord constable’s fingers went again to the pendant he wore, hidden from view beneath his ever-present gorget. It was a token from her, that she’d given him on a tender night long before matters had ended so badly between them.

“Use it if ever you need me at your side,” she’d said, her eyes large and dark. Words he’d never forget.

So why was he so all-fired glad that some slab-faced wizard of war was talking to her now, so he didn’t have to?

The Crown mages marched back into the room, far sooner than he’d expected. Farland snatched his fingers away from the hidden pendant as if it might burn them.

“Suzail now knows about the killings,” Gulkanun told him, “and these two can be trusted; they are what they claim to be.”

Farland inclined his head. “My thanks, saer.” He turned to Amarune and Arclath. “Deepest apologies to the both of you. I hope you’ll appreciate that a lord constable cannot be too careful.”

“Of course,” Arclath said graciously, as Amarune nodded.

Farland smiled and waved one hand at an apparently solid wall. He saw Lord Delcastle crook his eyebrows, and he hastily leaned forward with his keys to forestall whatever clever—and irritating—comment the noble might make, to unlock the secret door. Making a swift “stay back” Crown signal he knew the two mages would understand, he led the two prisoners—ah, undercover agents—through the door.

The room beyond was small, windowless, and had no other door, only ventilation holes about the size of a small man’s wrist in opposing corners. Crammed into it was a cot that served both as a bed and as a seat for use with the low, plain table beside it—a table that held a decanter, two stout wooden mugs, a dome-covered earthenware platter, and a lanceboard set up for a game.

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