[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
She grinned at all four armored backs, parted two of them with firm hands, and
murmured, "Old lechers," as she strode between them and marched off down the
hall.
The guards saluted her in silent unison and went back to guarding the open door.
* * * * *
Roablar of Lantan sat back and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his
glasses pinched then rubbing the eyes behind them for good measure.
The everpresent hovering monk bent over the merchant. "Is there anything you're
not finding, goodsir?"
"Ah," Thaerabho murmured, to the Keeper of that particular reading-room in
Candlekeep. "It begins. Tis time for an unmasking."
Silent in his soft slippers, he started to move purposefully toward the seated
Lantanna.
"You can see what I'm seeking," the disguised Lady Noumea Cardellith told her
escort.
The tall, pockmarked monk ran a hand through his unruly, strawlike hair, bent
closer, and replied in a low voice, "All you can about the Red Wizards of Thay, in
particular recent writings. If you've come to Candlekeep in search of their spells, I
fear you've wasted your journey. We keep those secure for very good reasons."
Without regarding them, Noumea was well aware that several monks were silently
drawing in around her. She smiled thinly.
"No, Esmer. What would a merchant of Lantan want with spells? I live and die by
trade, and 'tis this new policy of establishing Thayan trade enclaves and who in the
Thayan hierarchy is behind it that I seek to learn all about."
"I realize this is overbold, and you must feel perfectly comfortable in refusing to
answer," an unfamiliar monk murmured from her other side, "but why?"
Noumea looked up and gave him a smile.
"If we're being so blunt: I suspect this is but the first step in an elaborate plan to
economically and then covertly politically dominate all realms of Faerun."
"Of course," two of the monks said together, and at least another three in the ring
that had silently formed around her nodded.
"Wherefore my fascination with recent reports and writings," Noumea added,
indicating the sheafs of parchment and stacked volumes on the slightly sloped
reading-desk before her.
"I sense you're both well-traveled and worldly," a monk said from directly behind
her. "Permit me, then, to mention something not to be found in these written records
but only in the diaries we compile of the news and rumor that comes daily to our
gates."
"Please do," Noumea said politely, shifting slightly and indicating the bench beside
her. The monks smiled as if she'd passed some sort of test, and the monk who'd
spoken from behind her stepped forward and sat down so close beside her that his
robe almost brushed her hip. A white, puckered old sword-scar adorned one of his
cheeks diagonally, and his hair was as gray as a sword in need of polishing.
"I'm Thaerabho," he said with a smile, "and my field is the doings of those who
wield magic in Faerun outside temples and priesthoods. You've heard of the Chosen
of Mystra?"
Noumea nodded eagerly, and Thaerabho's smile broadened.
"Then let me share this much: Some among them have been working against the
Red Wizards in a lovely manner. With spells they 'twist' many of the portals
established by the Thayans in their enclaves so those who use such translocations
can have spells stolen from their minds en route, suggestions planted, memories and
information 'read,' and so on."
"Sweet Mystra," Noumea whispered, genuinely awed.
Thaerabho nodded. "If the Thayans ever grow too strong in a particular place, if I
may speak cynically, the portal in that spot or all of them, along with, of course,
whoever's using them at the time could explode. Or perhaps a suggestion planted
in the heads of all mages who've ever used one of the Thayan portals could be
awakened, all at once, all over Faerun ... a suggestion, say, to rush to a particular
Thayan city and attack Szass Tarn or some other zulkir there, before he
accomplishes some dread goal that will sacrifice them."
Noumea shook her head and asked softly, "What if I am of Thay or of the Chosen [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
She grinned at all four armored backs, parted two of them with firm hands, and
murmured, "Old lechers," as she strode between them and marched off down the
hall.
The guards saluted her in silent unison and went back to guarding the open door.
* * * * *
Roablar of Lantan sat back and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his
glasses pinched then rubbing the eyes behind them for good measure.
The everpresent hovering monk bent over the merchant. "Is there anything you're
not finding, goodsir?"
"Ah," Thaerabho murmured, to the Keeper of that particular reading-room in
Candlekeep. "It begins. Tis time for an unmasking."
Silent in his soft slippers, he started to move purposefully toward the seated
Lantanna.
"You can see what I'm seeking," the disguised Lady Noumea Cardellith told her
escort.
The tall, pockmarked monk ran a hand through his unruly, strawlike hair, bent
closer, and replied in a low voice, "All you can about the Red Wizards of Thay, in
particular recent writings. If you've come to Candlekeep in search of their spells, I
fear you've wasted your journey. We keep those secure for very good reasons."
Without regarding them, Noumea was well aware that several monks were silently
drawing in around her. She smiled thinly.
"No, Esmer. What would a merchant of Lantan want with spells? I live and die by
trade, and 'tis this new policy of establishing Thayan trade enclaves and who in the
Thayan hierarchy is behind it that I seek to learn all about."
"I realize this is overbold, and you must feel perfectly comfortable in refusing to
answer," an unfamiliar monk murmured from her other side, "but why?"
Noumea looked up and gave him a smile.
"If we're being so blunt: I suspect this is but the first step in an elaborate plan to
economically and then covertly politically dominate all realms of Faerun."
"Of course," two of the monks said together, and at least another three in the ring
that had silently formed around her nodded.
"Wherefore my fascination with recent reports and writings," Noumea added,
indicating the sheafs of parchment and stacked volumes on the slightly sloped
reading-desk before her.
"I sense you're both well-traveled and worldly," a monk said from directly behind
her. "Permit me, then, to mention something not to be found in these written records
but only in the diaries we compile of the news and rumor that comes daily to our
gates."
"Please do," Noumea said politely, shifting slightly and indicating the bench beside
her. The monks smiled as if she'd passed some sort of test, and the monk who'd
spoken from behind her stepped forward and sat down so close beside her that his
robe almost brushed her hip. A white, puckered old sword-scar adorned one of his
cheeks diagonally, and his hair was as gray as a sword in need of polishing.
"I'm Thaerabho," he said with a smile, "and my field is the doings of those who
wield magic in Faerun outside temples and priesthoods. You've heard of the Chosen
of Mystra?"
Noumea nodded eagerly, and Thaerabho's smile broadened.
"Then let me share this much: Some among them have been working against the
Red Wizards in a lovely manner. With spells they 'twist' many of the portals
established by the Thayans in their enclaves so those who use such translocations
can have spells stolen from their minds en route, suggestions planted, memories and
information 'read,' and so on."
"Sweet Mystra," Noumea whispered, genuinely awed.
Thaerabho nodded. "If the Thayans ever grow too strong in a particular place, if I
may speak cynically, the portal in that spot or all of them, along with, of course,
whoever's using them at the time could explode. Or perhaps a suggestion planted
in the heads of all mages who've ever used one of the Thayan portals could be
awakened, all at once, all over Faerun ... a suggestion, say, to rush to a particular
Thayan city and attack Szass Tarn or some other zulkir there, before he
accomplishes some dread goal that will sacrifice them."
Noumea shook her head and asked softly, "What if I am of Thay or of the Chosen [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]