[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
that the garden was similarly empty and knowing that it almost certainly was; this lady planned things
carefully "but I must confess that I find splendid minds more intriguing than splendid bodies."
Lady Symrustar met his eyes. "Would you prefer I dropped the pretense of breathless excitement then,
Lord Elminster?" she asked softly. "Among the People, many males do not believe that their ladies really
have minds."
Elminster crooked an eyebrow. "With your swift wit gliding through revel after revel to prove them
different?"
She laughed, eyes flashing. "Blood to you," she ac-knowledged. "I think I'm going to enjoy this." She led
him on through the garden, walking now, whatever magic had levitated her banished or exhausted. Her
hips swayed with every step in a way that left Elmin-ster's mouth dry; he kept his eyes firmly on her eyes
and saw a little knowing twinkle growing in them. She knew full well what effect she was having on him.
"I spoke simple truth when first we met," she said, tossing that magnificent hair out of the way again, "I
do want to learn all I can about humans. Will you oblige me? My questions may seem witless at times."
"Lady, allow me," El murmured, wondering when her attack would fall on him, and what form it would
take. He was mildly surprised, as they walked deeper and deeper into the wild and empty depths of the
gar-den and the last sunlight started to fade, just how thorough her questioning was, and genuine her
inter-est seemed.
They came at last to a pale glow of moonlight in the trees ahead, talking earnestly of how elves dwelt in
Cormanthor and humans lived in Athalantar. Symrus-tar led her exotic human to a stone bench that
curved about a circular pool in the center of that clearing. Re-flected stars glimmered in its depths as they
sat down together in the pleasantly warm night air, and the bright moonlight touched Symrustar's smooth
skin with ivory fingers.
Quite naturally and simply, as if this was something elven females always did when sitting on benches in
the moonlight, she guided Elminster's hands within the wire breastworks of her gown. She was trembling.
"Tell me more of men," she murmured, her eyes very large now, and seemingly darker. "Tell me ... how
they love."
Elminster almost smiled as a memory flashed through his mind. In the library of a wizard's tomb lost in
the High Forest there is a curious book that has no name. It is the diary of a nameless half-elven ranger of
long ago, that tells of his thoughts and deeds, and the sorceress Myrjala had made Elminster read it to
learn how elves regarded magic. On the subject of giving pleasure to elven maids, it mentioned using
one's tongue gently on the palms of the hands and the tips of the ears.
El slipped one of his hands out of where she'd put it, let his fingertips trail down her belly, and then
caught hold of her wrist.
"Hungrily," he replied, and bent his tongue to her open palm.
She gasped, trembling in earnest now, and he lifted his head out of long habit to look around.
Moonlight gleamed on a set and furious elven face. A male, there in the trees. El slid his other hand free.
There was another, over there. And another. They sat at the heart of a silently closing ring.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"What is it, Lord Elminster?" the Lady Symrustar asked, almost sharply. "Am I abhorrent in some
way?"
"Lady," he replied, "we are about to be attacked." He put his hands on the scepter at his belt, but the
elven maid rose and turned with swift, fluid grace, and looked into the trees.
"They'll charge us, now, in silence," she said calmly. "Hold to me, and I'll take us from this place!"
Elminster slipped an arm about her waist and crouched low, scepter out and ready. She murmured
something as the lithe shapes leapt at them out of the trees, and did something behind her that Elminster
did not see. An instant later they were gone.
The elven warriors rolled and sprang, snarling in disappointment, blades slashing air that was now empty.
"What's this?" one of them hissed, pausing above the bench where the two figures had been entwined. A
small obsidian figurine lay on it, rocking slightly. It was shaped like Symrustar Auglamyr, her hands at her
sides, and bindings about her to keep them there. A cautious fingertip prodded it and found it still warm
from the heat of someone's body.
"The human!" an elf hissed, raising his blade to smash the thing. "He was using dark magic to ensnare
her!"
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]