Forsaken House (20 page)

“Twice I have scried him briefly, but each time he has succeeded in blocking my divinations. I have dispatched two fey’ri to find him, but we are still so few in number, I did not dare send more. Just now I directed our agent in Yartar to retain the services of a certain merchant’s guild, whose true trade involves dealing in information and dispensing with unwanted rivals. I have promised them a handsome sum if they locate this fellow for me.”

“And what results have you achieved with all that effort?”

“I believe he is traveling on the Trade Way, heading south from Waterdeep. He is riding with four companions, including a high-ranking cleric of Lathander. I infer that he is in the process of traveling to the second stone, but I do not yet know where that is or how soon he might reach it.”

Sarya trailed a hand over the black shroud and said, “That is not good enough. He might find the second and third telkiira before we find him! You must redouble your efforts, Nurthel. But perhaps I have failed to provide you with the proper implements for the task.”

Sarya drew aside the silken shroud, and allowed it to fall to the floor, revealing a great crystal orb resting in a heavy iron stand. The device glimmered with a weird emerald light deep in its countless facets.

“What is it?” Nurthel asked softly.

“A telthukiilir, a High Seeing Orb—one of the many useful treasures we recovered from the depths of Nar Kerymhoarth when we freed the fey’ri legion. This is an artifact of ancient Aryvandaar itself, buried for thousands of years in that dolorous citadel.”

“A crystal ball?”

“Not quite. Crystal balls are useful enough, but they are easily blocked by those who know rudimentary defenses against scrying. The telthukiilir is a much more powerful instrument. You will find it capable of piercing all but the most powerful of barriers your opponent may raise. But you must use it with care, since its most powerful abilities consume its magic at a prodigious rate. The orb will require a long time to restore its power after defeating the defenses of a knowledgeable enemy.” Sarya invited Nurthel with a languid gesture. “Try it now, if you like. I would do so myself, but you have seen this fellow. You will find him more quickly and easily than I would.”

Nurthel moved up to stand before the orb. He reached out a hand to pass above the great crystal sphere, and he felt the restless surging of its magic beneath his fingertips. He whispered a few arcane words, and called to mind the face of the sun elf mage he sought.

“Show me the elf who carries the telkiira of Kaeledhin,” he said.

The orb glimmered, as emerald energy spiraled deep below its surface. It grew transparent in the center, and Nurthel leaned closer, peering into the orb. Sarya watched him, her arms folded. In the orb an image formed of an old vine-covered tower in a great forest. The picture reeled and blurred, as if the orb was moving closer to it, then it steadied again. Nurthel gazed on the bronzed features of his nemesis from Tower Reilloch. Distantly he heard the sounds of battle, and he realized that the mage and his friends were engaged in a fight against some unseen peril.

“I see him!” he snarled.

“Good. Study the surroundings, fix them in your mind, then gather your company and summon your demonic allies. But remember, I want him alive. He can lead us to the last of the stones.”

“He may prove difficult to coerce.”

Sarya laughed and said, “Do not underestimate my powers of coercion, Lord Floshin! I am certain we will be able to persuade him to help us.” 0 0 0 0 0

The forested hillsides above Elion glittered with the soft light of a thousand lanterns, looking for all the world like fireflies in a summer field. The night was cool but not cold, with a patchy silver overcast through which broad swaths of stars glittered. Seiveril stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing up from Seamist’s green arbor at the growing army encamped about his seat. Each day more elves came, and more elves, so that the scattered camps of a hundred different bands, companies, clans, societies, and orders filled the hills above the Miritar palace.

“So many,” he murmured. “So many. How can I hope to put them in some kind of order quickly enough to aid Evereska?”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you sent your voice ringing over all of Evermeet, calling us to your banner,” said Vesilde Gaerth.

Short and wiry, even by elf standards, the sun elf knight seemed like a stern-mannered youth barely out of childhood, not the Knight-Commander of the Golden Star. He waited with Seiveril for the rest of the Council of Captains. Each captain led one of the largest contingents within the gathering crusade. Over the past few days Seiveril had drafted them into service as an impromptu staff and command structure. In the case of Vesilde Gaerth, he commanded the Golden Star, one of the militant orders associated with the temple of Corellon Larethian. Vesilde Gaerth personally led more than five hundred clerics, knights, templars, and temple guards in Seiveril’s crusade.

“What did you expect from your reckless speech, Lord Seiveril?” Vesilde continued. “You have no idea the trouble you have caused within the faith.”

Seiveril nodded, silently accepting the rebuke. Vesilde Gaerth was an old friend and ally within the hierarchy of Corellon’s faithful. Seiveril had hoped that the clerics and temple soldiers of his own faith would hear his call, and a great number did. But an equal number, mostly from the

southern and western districts where the Durothils and Veldanns were strong, had chosen not to come. In fact, he’d heard just that morning that a Highmeet of the Stargrove had been called, so that the chief elders of Corellon’s temple might consider whether Seiveril’s actions could be sanctioned by the faith. More than a few of Corellon’s priests were sun elves of old and conservative families, and Seiveril suspected that they might seek to remove him from his position in the clergy.

“Those words were not entirely my own, Lord Gaerth,” Seiveril replied. “Corellon’s hand was on my shoulder.”

“So you say, old friend, and I believe you. But many who stand high in Corellon’s faith are not so certain. Some openly wonder whether you are indeed speaking as the Seldarine command or simply claiming so in order to realize your own private ambitions.”

“Ambitions? What ambitions?” Seiveril demanded. “What could I possibly hope to gain by resigning from the council and leaving Evermeet?”

“Well, for a start, you might succeed and return a hero. Everyone knows that you are high in Amlaruil’s favor. I think that the Durothils fear that you are maneuvering to present House Miritar as a successor to House Moonflower, should Amlaruil pass to Arvandor without leaving a Moonflower heir. The gods know that few indeed of the Moonflower children still live.”

Seiveril shook his head in disgust and said, “When someone desires one thing above all others, she cannot believe that another person might not want it. Of course Lady Durothil thinks I’m maneuvering for the throne. She is wrong, you know.”

“We are a passionate race, Seiveril. An elf’s heart knows heights of glory and depths of despair that few other races can understand. You have given the People of Evermeet a great cause, a purpose suited to their longing, You should not be surprised that your words have taken root in many hearts, for good or ill.”

A soft call came through the cool night air, “Lord Seiveril? The other captains are here.”

“Excellent, Thilesin,” Seiveril answered. “Please ask them to join us.”

Seiveril waited while the younger cleric showed the other crusade leaders into the arbor. Thilesin was a priestess of middle rank in Corellon’s Grove, the circle of clergy that Seiveril had led until a few days before. Like many others among the Grove, she had chosen to join Seiveril’s quest. Somber and studious, Thilesin had proven to be indispensable as an aide-de-camp and adjutant. The quiet sun elf accompanied the other commanders into the arbor, and took up a position standing to one side, waiting for orders and decisions to record.

Seiveril studied his circle of captains. The first was Lord Elvath Muirreste, a tall, strong moon elf with pale skin and hair dark as shadow. He had formerly served as the leader of Elion’s Silver Guard, the legion Seiveril was expected to muster and maintain on Evermeet’s northerly coasts to defend the isle. Each of the high lords of the realm governing the isle’s districts were required to do the same, supplementing the royal army with their own troops. Lord Muirreste served as Seiveril’s marshal and captain, supervising the forces that owed loyalty to the Miritar family. Seiveril could not take the entirety of the Silver Guard with him, of course. He had promised Amlaruil that he would not compromise the safety of the realm. But the Silver Guard contingent comprised a company of knights, two of lighter cavalry, and three of infantry, totaling almost nine hundred uniformed knights and soldiers.

Jerreda Starcloak, the Green Lady of the wood elves, had been the first of the captains to arrive in Elion. Her wood elves filled the air with off-color songs and ribald jests as they trotted and gamboled along, roughhousing and boasting to each other. They did not make even the slightest attempt to form any sort of companies or march in any particular order. Each wood elf simply marched at whatever pace he and his friends enjoyed. But Jerreda Starcloak brought not two hundred, as she had promised in the Dome of Stars, but fully five hundred and fifty of the

best archers, scouts, and forest-wise folk in Evermeet.

Mage Jorildyn, the fourth of Seiveril’s captains, was one of the surviving mages of Tower Reilloch. A half-elf with a heavy and powerful build that seemed more suited to a swordsman than a wizard, he was in fact a very talented evoker and battlemage who had fought alongside elven armies on many previous occasions. His beard was streaked with gray, belying his human blood, and his manner was blunt to a fault, though few dared sneer at his mixed heritage. Jorildyn represented the arcanists of the gathering army, almost a hundred mages, bladesingers, spellsingers, and spellarchers, not a few of whom had followed him from Tower Reilloch. The Circle of Reilloch Domayr needed little urging to consider a counterblow against the daemonfey and their demonic allies.

“Well, we all seem to be here,” Seiveril began. “Thilesin, how stand our numbers so far?”

Thilesin consulted a small book she kept with her at all times and said, “The Moon Knights of the Temple of Sehanine Moonbow marched in an hour before sunset. They are only eighty strong, but they are all clerics and skilled swordsmen, and I understand all have some skill at healing magic. Earlier today a flight of Eagle Knights appeared.”

“Yes, I saw them,” Seiveril said. “I spoke with their captain.”

The Eagle Knights were only thirty strong, but each was mounted on a giant eagle. They were invaluable as aerial scouts and would serve well against any flying enemies the army met. Seiveril wished dearly for a hundred more, but the Eagle Knights were indispensable to Evermeet’s defenses, and he could not ask for any more to join his cause without straining his promise to Amlaruil.

“Also, Lord Celeilol Fireheart of Leuthilspar sent word that he will be here tomorrow afternoon. He is leading a company of spearmen in mail.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him,” Seiveril said. He glanced at the others, who shrugged back at him. “How many in his company?”

“He reports two hundred and fifty. By my best count, that brings us to just over five thousand warriors, plus at least two thousand more in armorers, engineers, drivers, and other such folk.”

“The Moon Knights are under the command of Ferryl Nimersyl?”

“Yes, Lord Seiveril.”

“Please invite him to our captains’ council, then. He has a sound mind and I know he fought well in Nimesin’s war.”Seiveril paused to organize his thoughts. He would have to be careful about asking too many captains to attend his councils, but it would be difficult to limit his invitations without offending any who weren’t asked to come.

“How about the individuals?” he asked.

Thilesin grimaced and replied, “It’s very hard to get a count, Lord Seiveril. They show up by ones or twos and simply set up a camp wherever they like. I have arranged for my assistants to establish a station where all who come to join can sign up, and give us a name at least. Based on our rolls, which are incomplete, I’d say we have almost three thousand volunteers who aren’t a part of any company or society.”

“That could be fifteen companies of infantry,” Elvath Muirreste observed. “How can we equip them all?”

“More to the point, how do we organize them into companies?” Seiveril asked. “I have no idea what to do with so many.”

“Best to divide them among the companies we already have, I think,” said Muirreste. “It would seem to be impossible to organize and equip new companies before we march, let alone train them for battle. Any we cannot place with a real company, we should send back home.”

“Do not turn away anyone whose heart is full of courage, Seiveril,” Jerreda Starcloak said. “Yes, we must do something to put these fellows in order, but they are willing, and they are waiting to be led. Marching and heeding orders can be taught, but determination and courage are harder to teach. If you give them the

chance, they will storm a dragon’s lair for you.”

Seiveril replied, “For many of them, it is simply the passion of youth. They think they are signing on for the adventure of their age, and they can’t stand the thought of missing it.”

“Yes, for many of our volunteers that is true,” Jerreda said, “but I think you might do well to walk among the camps tonight and see who has answered your call, Lord Seiveril. They come from all over Evermeet. Many are soldiers of the Queen’s Guard who resigned their positions to serve in your army. Others are huntsmen of the Silver Hills. We have dozens of noted swordsmen and archers; bladesingers, spellsingers, and spellarchers; and whole Towers full of mages. They might serve to leaven the rest.”

“That many?” Seiveril asked. He thought hard. In truth, he wanted to do exactly as Jerreda suggested, and go among the newcomers, greet them, speak with them, find out who might be skilled or experienced enough to serve as a leader for the rest, but he dared not. There were much more dangerous problems demanding his attention. “All right, this is what we will do. Muirreste, Gaerth, I want you to select one third of your officers and sergeants to leave your companies and serve as leadership cadres for five new companies each, to be organized from our unattached volunteers. Make sure you pick some good and capable leaders for this duty. You will be promoting them, after all. Have the cadre commanders figure out how to build their new companies from our volunteers. In the meantime, you may go among the volunteers and see if any of them would serve to replace the captains and officers you will be losing.”