The Mage in the Iron Mask (26 page)

Volo put his arm around his corpulent friend. The grown man had stopped crying and seemed resigned to the fact that the two of them would die together in the darkness. Despite the telltale rumblings of his impatient stomach, nary a complaint or whine issued from his lips.

Idle and Catinflas would be proud, thought the master traveler.

Volo passed the time with his friend relating tales of his expedition to the Underdark. What seemed like hours passed, and still the master traveler was without a plan. The irregular contours of the ground and walls, and the frequent underground cliffs overlooking bottomless pits made groping around in the dark unadvisable. Had he had ample time to prepare for this excursion in the darkness, there would have been numerous precautions against situations such as this that he would have taken, but unfortunately such was not the case.

The master traveler's thoughts drifted back to Honor Fullstaff and Mason McKern. He was still not quite sure if they had planned for this to happen once he and Passepout had fulfilled their mission, but was quite confident that neither member of the old guard of Mulmaster had the least bit of concern for himself or his friend's lives now that their task had been performed. In fact, to a certain degree, they might even be more comfortable with their now assured permanent silence on the matters that had recently transpired.

Volo sighed, but Passepout seemed not to notice, having slipped into an almost catatonic state of despairing acceptance.

The master traveler was fairly confident that he could find their way back to the sewer hole and would have been willing to accept the risks involved in surviving the subterranean trip out to sea, had he not also been confident that his dear friend would never have survived such a journey.

If no alternative came to them shortly, they would have to take the risk.

Passepout bolted upright, his nose sniffing the air.

"What's that?" the portly thespian asked urgently.

"What's what?" the master traveler responded.

"I smell breakfast rolls," Passepout replied.

Volo sniffed the air, but was unable to detect a change in the aroma of their locale. He feared that his friend was beginning to hallucinate, until he heard what seemed like the soft patting of slippered footsteps on the underground path.

"Well, can you smell it?" the thespian asked desperately.

"Hush!" Volo commanded. "I think someone is coming."

"Friend or foe?" Passepout asked in a quivering whisper.

"I don't know," Volo answered, "but we'll find out soon enough. Whoever they are they're coming closer."

Volo looked in the direction that he and his friend had come from, and saw the beginnings of a torch's glow entering the chamber in which they now sat, soon followed by the silhouette of either their savior or the latest threat to their existence.

"Well, it's about time I found you two," Chesslyn said, a bit of good-natured impatience in her voice. "Breakfast is almost stone cold."

The Harper secret agent reached into her pack, and handed the two travelers breakfast buns. Passepout devoured his immediately, and looked longingly at Volo's. The master traveler gladly offered it to his friend, who gratefully accepted.

Volo stood up, and hugged their savior.

"What took you so long?" he said happily.

"I'm a good tracker," she replied, "but not that good. Honor sent a message instructing me that what had transpired over the past few days had never taken place, and that it was only because I had been his favorite student that he knew that I would understand. He then made mention of his being grateful for my part in the beginnings of the restoration of Mulmaster to its former glory. That was it."

"I see." said Volo cautiously.

"Since he never mentioned you or Passepout, I naturally assumed something had happened," she explained, "and since you still owe me that chance to get to know you better, I decided to trace your steps from where I left you the other night and,
voila,
here I am."

"In the nick of time, I might add," Passepout interjected. "I had despaired of ever eating again."

Chesslyn handed him another breakfast bun and turned her attention back to Volo. "Do you think it's safe for us to return with you to Mulmaster?" the master traveler asked guardedly.

"I think so," Chesslyn answered. "Though Honor might allow you to disappear without a trace, I don't think he would actually lift a hand to have you removed, given the current business in court. It might attract too much unwanted attention. You should be safe around town for at least the next few days."

"Just enough time for us to get further acquainted," the master traveler offered.

"My thoughts exactly," she agreed with a smile.

The two held romantic eye contact in the shadowy subterranean chamber, until Passepout once again injected himself into their conversation.

"Do you think you can show us the way out of here?" he asked.

"Certainly," she replied, handing him the last of the buns, "just let me rearrange my pack and we can be on our way."

"Wonderful!" the chubby thespian replied.

As the Harper secret agent attended to her preparations, Passepout turned to his traveling companion and whispered assuredly, "See, I told you she liked me."

"Indeed," the master traveler replied, giving his friend a good-natured pat on the back. "Indeed."

"Wonderful!"

Former captain of the Hawks Sir Melker Rickman was executed for conspiracy to incite treason. He was hung from the scaffold in front of the keep that had housed his offices. The customary last words of the accused were dispensed with as the prisoner's tongue had been removed immediately upon his incarceration. His lifeless corpse was allowed to hang in state for a full day before the annoyance and public health concerns necessitated it be removed.

Farther down the road, and a day later, the Thayan embassy added to the festivities when the Tharchioness hosted an execution of her own as former ambassador and envoy, Joechairo Lawre, a wormlike politician of the worst sort, was publicly incinerated at the stake by a fireball cast by the First Princess herself. The crowd that gathered was quite impressed since nary a cry of mercy or anguish escaped the Red Wizard's lips as the flames engulfed him, the crowd being quite ignorant that his tongue, also, had been removed upon his arrest. As he was a Thayan national, he was thus executed by a duly empowered representative of Thay, and it was not necessary for him to be charged, or the execution justified. Among the members of the court, there was rumor that the charge was similar to that of Rickman; or perhaps it was just, according to those who knew the ambassador, simple incompetence. The Mulman mob didn't really care about justifications or the whys and wherefores-they just turned out for an afternoon's entertainment.

Curiously enough, the High Blade and his bride presided over both occasions.

The crowds interpreted this as further evidence of the diplomatic alliance that began with their nuptials, a sense of mutuality of their governmental responsibilities, and the development of a further closeness between the leaders whose marriage of diplomatic advantage may have evolved into something deeper between the two individuals. Rumors abounded among the mob that they had mutually agreed that the time had come for them to assume the responsibilities of parenthood.

Those closer to the respective thrones thought otherwise. The paradoxically amorous/antagonistic dynamic that had existed between the two had seemed to vanish overnight, and with its departure came several noticeable changes in their retinues. In addition to the arrests of Rickman and Lawre, both entourages underwent a change in personnel. A blind old swordmaster and former Hawk by the name of Fullstaff was appointed as chief advisor to the High Blade, and an equally geriatric mage by the name of McKern was appointed first consul, much to the chagrin of Senior Cloak Thurndan Tallwand. The overnight ascension of these two former retirees was looked upon with some amazement by the High Blade's court, particularly since both individuals, though officially still citizens of Mulmaster, had had next to no involvement in the government for more years than anyone seemed able to remember.

The changes to the First Princess's party were mostly in the form of deletions. Mischa Tam, as well as several ministers who had formerly been considered among the First Princess's inner circle, were noticeably absent. The ministers had evidently opted to return to Eltabbar at very short notice, while the Tharchioness's half sister felt the need to avoid that domain and seek the counsel of the great Szass Tam instead, a move that those in the know realized to be tantamount to choosing between the lady and the tiger. A new ambassador of obviously weak character had made an appearance, and the lower level Thayan functionaries were already taking bets on his life expectancy.

The third day of festivities was brought to a close by a public address by the High Blade himself in which he swore to return Mulmaster to its former days of glory. He then went on to announce that due to the priority of accelerating the rebuilding of the navy, the city would be unable to offer any financial assistance to Eltabbar during their recovery from their devastating earthquake. The needs, security, and goals of Mulmaster were always to be the first concern, and it was his intention that nothing was to get in its way on its chosen path to become the power center of the entire Moonsea region.

The crowd cheered, failing to notice the icy glare that the Tharchioness cast in her husband's direction.

He then went on to declare that the First Princess would indeed be cutting her conjugal visit short so that she could attend to her own matters of state back in Thay. He pointed out that it was important that all realize that matters of state must come first, and that in all things the glory of Mulmaster was to be his number one concern.

Fullstaff and McKern exchanged a secret wink and a conspiratorial grin between themselves as they saw their long-term goals and wishes finally coming to fruition.

The crowd cheered again, and no one noticed that the Tharchioness and her aides had quietly left the stand and were probably already on their way back to Mulmaster. Over the past few nights the First Princess had had more than enough time to pack, as the High Blade had chosen his private quarters to spend his nights in solitude.

Though Selfaril had commanded the respect of the mob on numerous occasions, no one could recall a time when he had earned as much acclamation as the High Blade did on this day. Worries of the encroachment of Thayan interests on Mulmaster's sovereignty were put to rest at last.

The High Blade went on to conclude that the following day would also be a holiday in honor of his father, the former High Blade, for whom respect and praise was long overdue. The next day would begin their journey onward to the glory of all Mulmaster.

The High Blade took a seat, exhausted at the emotional speech he had just given. Fullstaff and McKern gave his shoulders a subtle squeeze of encouragement and affirmation. Rassendyll knew that he had a tough job ahead of him, but that was the least a High Blade owed his city.

The master traveler chuckled and replied, "I have to remember to put that in my next book under 'extremely useful axioms for travelers.' "

Passepout laughed, adding, "And of course I will be given proper attribution."

"Of course," Volo replied. "Maybe I can talk my publisher into another book.
The Words, Wisdom, and Observations of Passepout, son of Idle and Catinflas."

"The Famous Thespians," the rotund actor corrected. "It has to be Idle and Catinflas, the Famous Thespians."

"Of course, old friend," Volo said, slapping Passepout on the back just as he was about to quaff yet another tankard of ale. "How else will anyone know which Passepout we are talking about?"

"Or which Idle and Catinflas," the rotund actor added. Changing the subject just slightly, the thespian asked, "Do you really think Tyme Waterdeep, Limited would publish it?"

"I don't see why not," the master traveler said, holding back a fiendish grin so as not to betray his levity. "They seem to have done well with
The Underdark Diet,
and given the scope of the contents of the book we are now discussing, it's not as if it will require a huge investment in paper or printing time, it being such a short book and all."

"Agreed," said Passepout in all seriousness, "and if it doesn't cost them that much to do, they will be able to pay me more."

"Of course," Volo replied, adding a single sticking point, "once you've turned the book in."

"You mean I have to
write
it first?"

"Of course."

Passepout became visibly disheartened, refilled his tankard, and turned his attention back to the merriment at hand.

Speaking of books, Volo thought, I'd better make sure that my notes are properly in order. Instead of my guide to the Moonsea, a book-length expose on the goings-on in Mulmaster will no doubt top the charts and line my pockets with gelt in no time.

The master traveler's dreams of wealth were interrupted by the arrival of Chesslyn with whom he had shared almost as many festivities as he had the risks, dangers, and adventures of the days previous.

"Volo," she said sweetly, "may I have a word with you?"

"But of course," the master traveler said guardedly. He had no desire to break the poor girl's heart, but figured that the time had come to let her know that he wouldn't be sticking around, and that, though he would always cherish the memories, he didn't believe in making any commitments that would result in the diminishing of the options that might make themselves available to him.

The master traveler put his arm around the secret Harper, and the two wandered away from the crowd. Volo looked back, saw that Passepout was making conversation with yet another serving wench, and decided that his traveling companion would be safe for at least the next few minutes.

Arriving at a tree whose branches managed to droop in such a way as to provide an enclosed and secluded seating area for those agile enough to maneuver themselves within, the two settled in away from the mob for their
tete-a-tete.

"Will this do?" the master traveler asked, brushing a lock of the swordswoman's hair away from her face with the back of his hand.

"Looks good to me," Chesslyn replied. "Secluded, private, just the thing. The locals call it the Necking Tree."

The master traveler sighed. He really didn't want to hurt the feelings of his latest conquest, but all unfinished business had to be resolved before he moved on. In his best helluva guy tone, he began to let her down easily.

"You know, Chesslyn," he started, "we have shared some times that many would be jealous of, and I would like to think that we have grown close enough that we can tell each other anything, and that is why I must…"

"My thoughts exactly," Chesslyn interrupted, "and that is the only reason why I feel that I should be the one to let you know what has been decided."

"Now I know that…" The master traveler was startled. "Decided? Who decided what?" he asked, shaking his head to try to make sense of the situation.

"My superiors, back in Shadowdale," she replied.

"That's the who," Volo said tentatively. "What's the what?"

Oh no, she didn't, the master traveler thought to himself in a panic he managed to keep secret from Chesslyn. I've always heard the rumor that Harpers had to ask their superiors for permission to marry, but…

"Now, Chesslyn," Volo said cautiously, "I hope you didn't rush into anything. I always prefer to proceed with caution in all matters, looking before I leap, etc."

"That's what I figured," Chesslyn said confidently, "that's why I knew you wouldn't mind if I sent a message to Storm back in Shadowdale about your involvement in the goings-on and all in case there were any concerns that you should be made aware of before even considering doing a book on Mulmaster."

"What?"

"The what is your book," she replied seriously. "My superiors, and indeed Elminster himself, feel that you should forget that any of the events at hand ever happened."

Volo shook his head in confusion.

"I don't understand," the master traveler replied. "I thought…"

"… that it would probably be the basis of a great book," Chesslyn interrupted again, "and it probably will, but for the sake of the balance of power in the Moonsea region, and perhaps all of Faerun for that matter, it is a story best left untold. To everyone but those who were involved, and my superiors of course, nothing has happened."

The master traveler's head was still buzzing in confusion.

"But I thought," he sputtered, "you wanted to talk about us, and…"

"… that I would intercede for you," Chesslyn interjected, "and I did, but balance is more important than personal gain. Surely you agree, don't you?"

"Well, yes, but…"

Chesslyn stopped for a moment as if a new thought had just occurred to her. Her expression softened. "That is what you were referring to," she said softly, "about us?"

Volo leapt at the opportunity to save face.

"Of course," he said in mock confidence, quickly averting his face so that she couldn't look in his eyes. "Still, you have to admit that such a book would have great potential."

"Enough potential to get you in even more trouble than you were over
Volo's Guide to All Things Magical,"
she pointed out, "and I was instructed to point that out to you."

"Point made," Volo acknowledged, his voice showing the dejection he felt.

Chesslyn put her arm around the depressed author, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Don't be so glum," she said. "You can still do the book that you originally intended to, and you have to admit you enjoyed some good times while doing the research."

Volo quickly regained his composure, and with a bit of false bravado, responded, "Agreed. Maybe not the best of times, but certainly not the worst of times."

"Well, I had a good time," the Harper admitted.

"And I did too," the gazetteer assented, "and now it's time to move on."

"Agreed."

The two shared a quick kiss in the privacy offered by the Necking Tree, and then returned to the hustle and bustle of the mob to rejoin Passepout.

As they walked back, Volo shared a few softly voiced thoughts with the Harper agent. "You know," he pointed out, "there is no guarantee that Rassendyll will make a more peaceful High Blade. With all that talk of returning Mulmaster to its former glory, who knows what can happen?"

"Agreed," Chesslyn answered.

"And Fullstaff and McKern are both nice guys and all, don't get me wrong, but they aren't exactly the type of guys who aren't willing to have the end justify the means."

"Why do you think I didn't let them know of my Harper affiliation?" she pointed out. "Even though Honor was my nearest and dearest teacher and mentor, I only share that little secret tidbit with those nearest and closest to my heart."

Volo brightened for a moment, and immediately hid his reaction, as there were some things the master traveler felt embarrassment about acknowledging.

As they approached the spot from whence they had come, Volo saw Passepout get slapped by a serving wench and saw a burly bouncer about to add his own two cents' worth of contusions to the beleaguered thespian.

"Duty calls," Volo replied, as he set off to help his friend.

"For both of us," Chesslyn answered, squeezing the master traveler's hand. "Farewell."

" 'Til we meet again, and may it be soon."

"Agreed."

With nary another kiss the two parted, and set off to right the matters at hand, Chesslyn back to the temple where she worked, and the master traveler to aid the about to be assaulted Passepout, his boon companion, and once again, friend in need.