"Kate Novak - Finders Stone 3 - Song Of The Saurials" - читать интересную книгу автора (Novak Kate)

Song Of The SaurialsSong of the Saurials
By Kate Novak and Jeff Grubb

Map of Shadowdale
Map of the Lost Vale
1
The Nameless Bard
"Hear what you've denied the Realms, what you've denied yourselves," the
prisoner muttered as he raised the chordal horn to his lips. His breath flowed
through the instrument's chambers with the steady force of a trade wind, and
his
fingers danced gracefully over the horn's holes and keys. Sweet music filled
the
prison cell, slipped through the iron bars set in the cell door, swirled down
the hallways of the Tower of Ashaba, and entered, unbidden, into the
courtroom.
The tune echoed along the bare stone walls of the chamber and danced about the
Harpers' courtroom. There, seated at a table before a tribunal of three
Harpers,
sat Elminster the Sage, about to offer his own counsel concerning the
prisoner.
Elminster paused before beginning his opening statement and closed his eyes to
listen to the tune. It took him only a moment to catch the gist of the spell
it
was meant to weave. Ah, Nameless, will ye never change? he thought. A penitent
man would plead for his freedom, a righteous man demand it. Is seduction all
ye
knowest?
Morala of Milil, the eldest of the three judges, scowled at the musical
interruption. Her eyes nearly disappeared in the wrinkles that creased her
face.
A lock of her snow-white hair fell forward, and she shoved it impatiently back
into the gold hairnet at the nape of her neck. She, too, recognized the spell
wrapped within the melody, and when she caught Elminster's eye, she folded her
frail arms across her chest and smiled coldly.
Elminster smiled back, as if oblivious to the ancient priestess's hostility.
He
thought with some annoyance. Why did the Harpers have to choose thee for this
tribunal? Ye could hardly be considered unbiased. Ye never liked Nameless.
Morala had been one of the judges who had sentenced Nameless at his first
trial.
Of course, Elminster knew that was exactly why she was here now. Someone had
to
represent the past, someone who knew the Nameless of old and recognized his
tricks, tricks such as the one Nameless was engaging in at this very moment.
"It wouldn't kill thee to enjoy the melody, Morala," the sage muttered under
his
breath. "A mere tune could hardly corrupt a pillar of stone like thyself."
Morala gave the sage a harsh glare, as if she'd heard his remark. Uncertain
just