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symbiosis with Garthond. Perhaps it was a cult experiment to find the possible
powers of any offspring of a spellfire wielding incantatrix's union with a
mage 'ridden' by a balhiir."
"I fear so," Narm replied. "But your tale, Gorstag ... what happened after
they were wed?"
"Why, the usual thing betwixt man and maid," Gorstag said gruffly. "In Elturel
they dwelt, then, in quiet. In due time a babe a girl, one Shandril
Shessair was born. They did not return to the Tower Tranquil and the dales,
where the cult waited in strength and the danger to their babe was greater,
until she was old enough to travel. Eight months, that wait was."
Gorstag shifted in his chair, eyes distant, seeing things long ago. "They rode
with me. East, overland, we went, and the cult was waiting for us, indeed."
The innkeeper sighed. "Somehow by art, likely they knew, and saw through our
disguises. They attacked us at the Bridge of Fallen Men on the road west of
Cormyr.
"Garthond was thrown down and utterly destroyed, but he won victory for his
wife and daughter, and for me. That day he took nine mages of the cult with
him, and another three swordsmen. He did not die cheaply.
"He was something splendid to see that day, Shan. I've not seen a mage work
art so well and so long, from that day to this, nor ever expect to. He shone
before he fell." The old warrior's eyes were wet again, as he stared into dim
night and saw memories the others could not.
"Dammasae and I were wounded I the worse, but she could bear hurt less well.
She carried less meat to lose and twice the grief and worry, for she feared
most, Shan, for you. The cultists were all slain or fled from that place, and
we rode as fast as we could to High Horn for healing. We made it there, and
Dammasae had some doctoring. She needed the hands and wisdom of Sylune,
though, and we could not reach Shadowdale in time.
"Your mother is buried west of the dale, on a little knoll on the north side
of the road, the first one close to the road west of Toad Knoll. A place holy
to Mystra, for she appeared
J
ED GREENWOOD
there to a magister once, long ago."
Gorstag looked down at the flagstones before his chair. "I could not save
her?' he added simply, old anguish raw in his voice. Shandril leaned toward
him, but she said nothing.
"But I could save you," the warrior added with iron determination. "I did
that." He caught up his axe and hefted it.
"I took you on my back and went by way of the woods from Shadowdale south to
Deepingdale. It was in my mind to leave you with elves I knew and try to get
into the Tower Tranquil to get something of Garthond's art and writings for
you, but I was still on my way south when elves I met brought word that the
cult had broken into the tower and plundered it, blasting their way into its
cellars. Then they used the great caverns they'd created as a lair for a
dracolicn Raugkrthgor the Proud whose hoard had outgrown his own lair.
"So I counted on my obscurity in the eyes of the cult that few who had seen me
riding with Dammasae and Garthond yet lived to tell the tale and came openly
to Deepingdale, where I used some gems Td amassed on my travels to buy a
run-down inn and retire.
"I was getting too old for rough nights spent on cold ground, anyway. Few of
my former compamons-at-arms were alive and hale, and an old warrior who must
join or gather a new band of younger blades is but asking for a dagger in the
ribs at first argument.
"I brought you up as a servant here, Shan, for I dared not attract attention
to you. Folk talk if an old retired warrior lives alone with a beautiful
girl-child, you know. 1 had to hide your lineage and, as long as I could, your
last name for I knew the cult would be after you if they guessed.
"That fight at the bridge, you see they could have slain us all by art from
afar without exposing themselves to our blades and spells for anything near so
high a cost, if all they'd wanted was us dead. No, they wanted you, girl, you
or your mother. I let them have neither! It was the greatest feat I ever
managed, down all those years of acting and watching my tongue and yet trying
to see you brought up proper. "For they've kept nosing, all these years, the
cult and oth-
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SPELLFIRE
ers. I suspected your Marimmar, Nairn, of being yet another spying mage who
knows, now? Some, I think, were fairly sure, but they did not want to fight
rivals for you unless you were the prize, so they watched closely to see if
you'd show some of your mother's powers. I dreaded the day you would. If it
were too public a show, I might not have time to get you to the elves or the
Harpers or Elminster.
"I was more wary of the old mage, for it is great mages who fear and want
spellfire the most and will do the greatest ill to get it. Even if I had the
time to run, then, I might not have the time to get Lureene and the others
safe away. The cult might well burn this house to the ground and slay all
within, if they came to take and found me gone."
He shook his head, remembering. "Some days, I was like a skulking miser,
looking for those coming to plunder under every stone in the yard and behind
every tree of the woods and in the face of every guest."
Chuckling, he shook his head. "Now you are wed, and I am to be wed, and you
went to find yourself because I would not tell you who you were. And you've
come back, with all my enemies and more besides upon your trail, and you wield
spellfire. And I am too old to defend you."
"Gorstag," said Narm quietly. "\bu have defended her. All the time she needed
it, you kept her safe. Now all the Knights of Myth Drannor must scramble to
defend her! She drove off Manshoon of Zhentil Keep and wounded him perhaps
unto death! My Shandril needs friends, food, and a warm bed, and a guard while [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]