The Mage in the Iron Mask (38 page)

“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!”

Epilogue

Over the previous few days Mulmaster was a flurry of activities. Two different executions were held with the normal accompaniment of festive fanfare.

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.

“I never thought of Mulmaster as much of a party town,” Passepout said. “I guess first impressions can be misleading, especially when your first night is spent in jail.”

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
tête-à-tête
.

“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 Faerûn 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.”