Part 2 (1/2)
Helm's face split in that delighted grin again. He shook his head. ”Ye're a fool, Prince-a prudent man'd foot it out of Athalantar and never look back, nor breathe a word of his past, his family, or the Lion Sword to a soul. .. mayhap to live a long an' happy life somewhere else.” He leaned forward to clasp Elminster's forearm. ”But ye could not do that an' still be an Aumar, prince of Athalantar. So ye will die in the trying.” He shook his head again. ”At least listen to me, then-an' wait until ye have a chance before letting anyone else in all Faerun know ye live ... or ye'll not give one of the magelords more than a few minutes of cruel sport.”
”They know of me?”
Helm gave him a pitying look. ”Ye are a lamb to the ways of court, indeed. The wizard ye saw over Heldon doubtless had orders to eliminate Prince Elthryn an' all his blood before the son they knew he'd sired could grow old and well-trained enough to have royal ambitions of his own.”
There was a little silence as the knight watched the youth grow pale. When the lad spoke again, however, Helm got another surprise.
”Sir Helm,” Elminster said calmly, ”Tell me the names of the magelords and ye can have my sheep.”
Helm guffawed. ”In faith, lad, I know them not-an' the others I run with'll have thy sheep whate'er befalls. I will give thee the names of thy uncles; yell need to know them.”
Elminster's eyes flickered. ”So tell.”
”The eldest-thy chief enemy-is Belaur. A big, bellowing bully of a man, for all he's seen but nine-and-twenty winters. Cruel in the hunt and on the field, but the best trained to arms of all the princes. He's shorter of wits than he thinks he is, an' was Uthgrael's favorite until he showed his cruel ways an', o'er and o'er again, his short temper. He proclaimed himself king six summers ago, but many folk up and down the Delimbiyr don't recognize his t.i.tle. They know what befell.”
Elminster nodded. ”And the second son?”
” 'Tis thought he's dead. Elthaun was a soft-tongued womanizer whose every third word was false. All the realm knew him for a master of intrigue, but he fled Hastarl a step ahead of Belaur's armsmen. The word is, some of the magelords found him in Calimshan later that year, hiding in a cellar in some city-an' used spells to make his death long and lingering.”
”The third.” Elminster was marking them off on his fingers; Helm grinned at that.
”Cauln was killed before Belaur claimed the throne. He was a sneaking, suspicious sort an' always liked watching wizards hurl fire an' the like. He fancied himself a wizard-an' was tricked into a spell-duel by a mage commonly thought to be hired for the purpose by Elthaun. The mage turned Cauln into a snake-fitting-an' then burst him apart from within with a spell I've never recognized or heard named. Then the first magelords Belaur had brought in struck him down in turn, 'for the safety of the realm.' I recall them proclaiming 'Death for treason!' in the streets of Hastarl when the news was cried.”
Helm shook his head. ”Then came your father. He was always quiet an' insisted on fairness among n.o.bles and common folk. The people loved him for that, but there was little respect for him at court. He retired to Heldon early on, an' most folk in Hastarl forgot him. I never knew Uthgrael thought highly of him-but that sword ye bear proves he did.”
”Four princes, thus far,” Elminster said, nodding as if to nail them down in memory. ”The others?”
Helm counted on his own grubby fingers. ”Othglas was next-a fat man full of jolly jests, who stuffed himself at feasts every night he could. He was stouter than a barrel an' could barely wheeze his way around on two feet. He liked to poison those who displeased him an' made quite a push through the ranks of those at court, downing foes an' any who so much as spoke a word aloud against him, and advancing his own supporters.”
Elminster stared at him, frowning. ”Ye make my uncles seem like a lot of villains.”
Helm looked steadily back at him. ”That was the common judgment up an' down the Delimbiyr, aye. I but report to ye what they did; if ye come to the same judgment as most folk did, doubtless the G.o.ds will agree with ye.”
He scratched himself again, took a pull from his flask, and added, ”When Belaur took the throne, his pet mages made it clear they knew what Othglas was up to an' threatened to put him to death before all the court for it. So he fled to Dalniir an' joined the Huntsmen, who wors.h.i.+p Malar. I doubt the Beastlord has ever had so fat a priest before-or since.”
”Does he still live?”
Helm shook his head. ”Most of Athalantar knows what befell; the magelords made sure we all heard. They turned him into a boar during a hunt, an' he was slain by his own underpriests.”
Elminster shuddered despite himself, but all he said was, ”The next prince?”
”Felodar-the one who went off to Calimshan. Gold and gems are his love; he left the realm before Uthgrael died, seeking them. Wherever he went, he fostered trade betwixt there and here, pleasing the king very much-an' bringing Athalantar what little name an' wealth it has in Faerun beyond the Delimbiyr valley today. I think the king'd have been less pleased if he'd known Felodar was raking in gold coins as fast as he could close his hands on them . . . trading in slaves, drugs, an' dark magic. He's still doing that, as far as I know, at least chin-deep in the intrigues of Calimshan.” Helm chuckled suddenly. ”He's even hired mages an' sent them here to work spells against Belaur's magelords.”
”Not one to turn thy back on, for even a quick breath?” Elminster asked wryly, and Helm grinned and nodded.
”Last, there's Nrymm, the youngest. A timid, frail, sullen little brat, as I recall. He was brought up by women of the court after the queen's death, an' may never have stepped outside the gates of Athalgard in his life. He disappeared about four summers ago.”
”Dead?”
Helm shrugged. ”That, or held captive somewhere by the magelords so they have another blood heir of Uthgrael in their power should anything happen to Belaur.”
Elminster reached for the flask; Helm handed it over. The youth drank carefully, sneezed once, and handed it back. He licked his lips, and said, ”Ye don't make it sound a n.o.ble thing to be a prince of Athalantar.”
Helm shrugged. ”It's for every prince, himself, to make it a n.o.ble thing; a duty most princes these days seem to forget.”
Elminster looked down at the Lion Sword, which had somehow found its way into his hands again. ”What should I do now?”
Helm shrugged. ”Go west, to the Horn Hills, and run with the outlaws there. Learn how to live hard, an' use a blade-an' kill. Your revenge, lad, isn't catching one mage in a privy an' running a sword up his backside-the G.o.ds have set ye up against far too many princes an' wizards an' hired lickspittle armsmen for that. Even if they all lined up and presented their behinds, your arm'd grow tired before the job was done.”
He sighed and added, ”Ye spoke truth when ye said it'll be your life's work. Ye have to be less the dreamy boy an' more the knight, an' somehow keep well clear of magelords until ye've learned how to stay alive more'n one battle, when the armsmen of Athalantar come looking to kill ye. Most of 'em aren't much in a fight-but right now, neither are ye. Go to the hills and offer your blade to the outlaws at least two winters. In the cities, everything is under the hand-an' the taint-of wizards. Evil rules, and good men must needs be outlaws-or corpses-if they're to stay good. So be ye an outlaw an' learn to be a good one.” He did not quite smile as he added, ”If ye survive, travel Faerun until ye find a weapon sharp enough to slay Neldryn-and then come back, and do it.”
”Slay who?”
”Neldryn Hawklyn-probably the most powerful of the mage-lords.”
Elminster eyed him with sudden fire in his blue-gray eyes. ”Ye said ye knew no names of magelords! Is this what a knight of Athalantar calls 'truth'?”
Helm spat aside, into the darkness. ”Truth?” He leaned forward. ”Just what is 'truth,' boy?”
Elminster frowned. ”It is what it is,” he said icily. ”I know of no hidden meanings.”
”Truth,” Helm said, ”is a weapon. Remember that.”
Silence hung between them for a long moment, and then Elminster said, ”Right, I've learned thy clever lesson. Tell me then, O wise knight: how much else of all ye've said can I trust? About my father and my uncles?”
Helm hid a smile. When this lad's voice grew quiet, it betokened danger. No bl.u.s.ter about this one. He deserved a fair answer, well enough. The knight said simply, ”All of it. As best I know. If ye're still hungry for names to work revenge on, add these to thy tally: Magelords Seldinor Stormcloak and Kadeln Olothstar-but I'd not know the faces of any of the three if I b.u.mped noses with them in a brothel bathing pool.”
Elminster regarded the unshaven, stinking man steadily. ”Ye are not what I expected a knight of Athalantar to be.”
Helm met his gaze squarely. ”Ye thought to see s.h.i.+ning armor, Prince? Astride a white horse as tall as a cottage? Courtly manners? n.o.ble sacrifices? Not in this world, lad-not since the Queen of the Hunt died.”
”Who?”
Helm sighed and looked away. ”I forget ye know naught of your own realm. Queen Syndrel Hornweather; your granddam, Uthgrael's queen, an' mistress of all his stag hunts.” He looked into the darkness, and added softly, ”She was the most beautiful lady I've ever seen.”
Elminster got up abruptly. ”My thanks for this, Helm Stoneblade. I must be on my way before any of thy fellow wolves return from plundering Heldon. If the G.o.ds smile, we shall meet again.”
Helm looked up at him. ”I hope so, lad. I hope so-an' let it be when Athalantar is free of magelords again, an' my 'fellow wolves,' the true knights of Athalantar, can ride again.”
He held out his hands. The flask was in one, and the bread in the other.
”Go west, to the Horn Hills,” he said roughly, ”an' take care not to be seen. Move at dusk an' dawn, and keep to fields and forest. 'Ware armsmen at patrol. Out there, they slay first, an' ask thy corpse its business after. Never forget: the blades the wizards hire are not knights; today's armsmen of Athalantar have no honor.” He spat to one side thoughtfully and added, ”If ye meet with outlaws, tell them Helm sent ye, an' ye're to be trusted.”
Elminster took the bread and the flask. Their eyes met, and he nodded his thanks.