Elminster's Daughter

The Waterdhavian clenched her teeth, looked at the floor, and burst out, "You've no right to do this. I don't want to spend the rest of my days being hunted by every gods-cursed wizard in Faerun! Can't I keep this one secret? It's nothing to do with Cormyr!"

"I must be the judge of that," the Mage Royal replied softly. "Come, Narnra, what harm can saying a name or two do you? If 'tis nothing to do with Cormyr, as you say, then it can't be a lineage exiled from here, and so . . ."

Glarasteer Rhauligan cleared his throat loudly, and Caladnei looked over at him, stepping smoothly back from Narnra to do so.

"You thought your parents were dead, right?" the Harper asked Narnra.

She looked into his eyes and said, "Yes."

"You've never had siblings, aye?"

"Yes."

"So you've just learned your mother—or your father—was alive, hey?"

"Yes," Narnra said, shrinking back from him as if he was going to hurl something at her.

"You followed a wizard here, didn't you?"

Narnra glared at him and kept silence. Four people stared at each other in the vast and otherwise empty room before Laspeera asked, "You're the daughter of Elminster of Shadowdale, aren't you?"

Narnra shot her a look that had daggers in it and—reluctantly— nodded. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper: "I... fear so."

She looked up swiftly. Rhauligan was eyeing her with bright interest, while Laspeera's eyes had a strange expression that held several things, pity foremost among them. Caladnei was frowning.

"In the cellars of Marsember, Elminster certainly didn't seem to be treating you as his daughter," she observed, stepping closer again.

Narnra drew in a deep breath and told the floor tonelessly, "I don't think Elminster knows he sired me."

The Mage Royal turned to Laspeera. "Does this seem likely to you?"

"The fathering? Very. The not knowing all of his offspring and their doings does surprise me, yes. I thought the Old Mage knew damned near every time any wizard in all Faerun scratched himself."

Caladnei nodded and turned back to Narnra. "You realize the danger if word of your parentage spreads." Her words were not a question.

The thief from Waterdeep nodded and said bitterly, "All too well." She shrugged. "But as I seem doomed to spend whatever short remainder of life is left to me as a helpless captive, tossed from one ruthless wizard to another—present company very much included—it hardly seems to matter."

Caladnei's eyes were thoughtful. "What will you do if I release you?"

Narnra shrugged again. "Steal all I can, probably, until I've coins enough to buy caravan-passage back to Waterdeep . . . unless, while thieving here in Cormyr, I like what I see enough to stick around."

Caladnei smiled sourly. "As Mage Royal, I've a better idea: You can serve yourself best if you stay alive and serve Cormyr at the same time."

"Serve how?"

"As a paid spy while you thieve—with occasional offers of additional monies for more daring tasks of plundering or 'placing' items to be found ... as Rhauligan, here, does for us."

"So it's agree or you'll kill me?"

"Oh, no," Caladnei said softly. "I need information about Cormyr's foes. It'll be much more useful to simply spread the news around Suzail that you're Elminster's daughter, and watch the wolves come out of hiding to get at you."

"I'll still die!"

The Mage Royal shrugged. "We all do, sooner or later—and you'll be free to die in your own way, just as you believe all of us overbearing sorts are." She waited. "Well?"

Narnra slid down the wall until she was sitting, sighed loudly, then told the carved dragon ceiling, "I'm furious at being at the mercy of any wizard." She turned her head to glare at Caladnei and added, "I think I'll tell you so."

Rhauligan's amused snort was echoed—in far more ladylike ma

"Moreover, before I agree to anything, I need to know not just the 'or else,' but also the 'what else' and the 'what about after,' too."

Caladnei was almost smiling. "And those things would be?"

"The bad things you're not yet telling me about this . . . and what happens to me when the Mage Royal of Cormyr deems me expendable."

Caladnei's smile appeared, wry but full. "Prudence at last. A bit late, but making an appearance nonetheless."

She knelt close to where Narnra was sitting and said, "To save Cormyr, we are all expendable. However, 'tis my hope that you'll become so useful to us all that you serve loyally for years to come—whereupon you might be rewarded with a 'way out.' A title, a nice mansion to live out your wrinkled years ... a better 'after' than many can hope for. As for the 'what else,' I need to know your trustworthiness and so would begin by mind-reaming you directly."

"Turning me into some sort of brainless slug?"

"No. I'll never deal pain, mind-to-mind, as Elminster did. No, if you were found wanting, I'd put you through a portal back to Waterdeep."

Narnra almost sprang up from the wall. "You can do that?"

"Oh, yes. I must warn you that the portal I know will deliver you into a very public room of state in Peirgeiron's Palace. Have you a swift story ready?"

"Being the daughter of Elminster ought to do," Rhauligan murmured—earning him three glares at once.

Narnra bit her lip. "And ... I'd just go back to Trades Ward? No one following me?"

Caladnei shrugged. "Not from Cormyr."

Narnra looked at her. "This mind-ream: What will it do to me?"

"Show me your thoughts and memories as I rummage. If you'd like to reassure yourself as to your fate at my hands, I can easily make the mind-ream a two-way affair so you can judge me while I do the same to you."

Narnra stared at the Mage Royal, awed and strangely excited— and suddenly angry again. She scrambled up, took a few stumbling steps away from Caladnei, waving at the Cormyreans to stay back from her, and leaned her head against the wall. "I ... let me think."

"Of course," Laspeera said softly.

Breathing heavily, Narnra stared at the toes of her boots and thought hard. How did she feel?

Did she trust these folk? Laspeera seemed motherly, Rhauligan was—Rhauligan, dedicated to his task ... and Caladnei had beaten her like a backstreet bully with magic—but not killed her when the slaying would have been easy and Narnra had been stupid enough to goad her. Repeatedly.

So how did she feel? Truth, now . . .

I'm more terrified than eager. And I'm angry. Angry at myself for being afraid, angrier still at Caladnei and Rhauligan for bringing me by force into this choice. I'm burn-the-gods furious with Elminster for siring me, just walking away, and luring me here from the streets I know.

"Truth," Laspeera said gently from behind Narnra. "Every word utter truth."

Gods, yes, she's been reading my every thought. . .

Narnra spun around with a frightened snarl, expecting to find all three Cormyreans closing in around her—but everyone was just where they'd been before, Caladnei still kneeling.

"If I agree to this . . . this madness," Narnra asked in a voice that was far from calm and steady, "when will this mind-ream take place?"

The Mage Royal of Cormyr rose slowly to her feet, smiling a little wryly. "In such matters, there's never any better time for boldly reckless action than . . . right now."

Fifteen

WHEN MARSEMBAN MERCHANTS GO WALKING

My son, it's not the standing merchants you need fear. It's when they get to walking somewhere that you'd best beware. It takes a heap of coming trouble for someone to get a merchant to walk anywhere.