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his shoulder.
"Aye," Itharr agreed, casting a guard's sword to the tiles at Thurbal's feet.
"Next time you hire seven dolts from Belgard, be sure he remembers to send
their brains along with them!"
Thurbal gaped at the three of them, but Shaerl turned to her captain-of-arms
and snapped, "Get fresh guards for the doors and send all the servants you can
find here, as fast as they can move!"
She guided the three rangers to a bench and rang the nearest gong furiously.
To the first servant who
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appeared, she snapped, "Send everyone here at once! Then fill my lord's
bath the new big one, and mind the water's hot! Get help, but do it fast!"
To the second she snarled, "Three carry-chairs, and men to bear them, back
here as fast as you're able!"
Then she turned her head as the kitchen door opened. Turk? Bring whatever you
have roasting and all the breads and cheeses you can lay hands on, and the
best wine you can get to my lord's chamber at once!"
"Impressive," Belkram murmured to her just before he fell asleep.
"Indeed," Shaerl told him gently. She looked down the hall to the doors, where
armsmen were carrying in seven limp armored forms under Thurbal's coldly
furious eye.
Itharr woke once on the stairs, swaying in his chair to murmur, "Killed a lot
of Zhents for you . . ."
"Eat first," Shaerl told him, guiding the chair across the parlor. "We'll talk
later."
"Bathe first," Sharantyr announced firmly.
"Nay, Lady," one of the armsmen said gently as he set her chair down. "For ye,
it's sleep first." The lady ranger's head lolled to one side as she began to
gently snore; she heard him only in her dreams.
"Get this armor off them," Shaerl told the armsman, unbuckling and tugging at
Sharantyr's body for all she was worth.
"Haste or care, Lady?"
"Care for them . . . haste otherwise," she replied briskly, hurling a vambrace
across the room. It struck the far wall with a crash that made a serving girl
wince and when the armsmen enthusiastically followed Shaerl's example, the
maid covered her ears and fled. The air quickly filled with flying pieces of
armor.
Amid the clangor, puffing relays of servants speedily filled the gigantic
copper tub. Shaerl herself added the soap and wyverntail oil, then turned back
to the arms-
4-24O +
ALL SHADOWS FLED
men. "Get some rope," she ordered the nearest one. "I don't want them
drowning."
"Aye, Lady."
Striding to her wardrobe, Shaerl snatched the doors open and took the first
three garments off their pegs without looking. Sliding them under the arms of
each ranger gods, the reek! and across their chests, she flipped the ends of
the three gowns up for the armsmen to tie the ropes to, noticed that one
garment was a favorite of hers, shrugged, and began to disrobe.
An armsman hovering uncertainly nearby gulped, looked away, and a sash slapped
into him. He caught it reflexively, then looked up to see his Lady's gown
coming his way, mastered a calm expression as he fielded it, and stepped
forward to take the rest as they were offered.
The Lady Shaerl was stepping unconcernedly into the hot depths of the tub as
the other armsmen rushed back in with coils of rope, goggled at her for an
instant, and wisely set about their task without comment or delay.
"More soap!" Shaerl ordered briskly as servants scurried, "and that
scratcher!"
The wooden back scratcher was handed to her, and she set to work. Lice floated
away almost immediately atop the scummy water. "Bethra," she said, without
looking up, "Draw Lady Sharantyr's hair out over the edge, put a bowl under
it, and start washing! Use my seafoam ointment!"
So it was that when Purk bustled up at the head of a procession bringing
platters of hot fowl from the kitchens, he found three rangers, grimy and
snoring, slumped over asleep in the huge bath, and the lady of the tower in
their midst, as bare as the day she was born, scrubbing and rinsing for all
she was worth.
"A feast is served, my lady," he announced with quiet dignity and was most
startled a moment later when Shaerl looked up at him through her dripping hair
and snapped, "Well, off with your clothes and get in, Purk!
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Wake them up and feed them the others can pass you the platters as you need
them! And have wine ready so that no one chokes ah, gods, give a bottle here
first! This is thirsty work!"
A grinning kitchen-boy uncorked a bottle and handed it to his lady, who winked
at him and said, "You're small enough! Pick up a brush, off with those, and
get in here!" She took a swig of wine, gasped in satisfaction, looked at one
of the armsmen, and snapped, "More hot water!"
Hastening down the stairs to obey, the armsman met one of his fellows
hastening the other way with a basin slopping in his hands. The first said,
"The lady's passion for bathing is crazed! Have they all washed their wits out
of their heads in Cormyr? What's wrong with just going down to the millpond
when your stink starts to drive the dogs away?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]