Ed Greenwood: Swords of Eveningstar

“That much I heard. One of the three ‘royal noble’ houses, aye? Yet I must confess, Del, I know nothing much about them. ‘Proud Crownsilvers, fierce Huntsilvers, and Truesilvers bold/Give Obarskyr silver and trouble enough, but no gold.’ Her parents sent her away? To Lord Hezom? ”

“Sent her to be trained so she’ll not shame them the more. And aye, Lord Hezom sent me down to throne-town to fetch her back up to Espar for his tutoring. The Lady Narantha Crownsilver, as charming a lass as ever kicked me, dumped my best rabbit stew all over me, slapped me, raked my face with her nails, and shrieked at me worse than any drunken lowcoin lass! Lad, it seems nobles don’t bridle their younglings, these days!”

Florin shook his head in disbelief. “So this banishment is to be punishment for her?”

“Belike they want her temper trained in private, instead of before all Suzail-so ’tis the upcountry backwoods, where stride the likes of ye and me, and no highnose gowned lady goes!” The horsemaster raked the last of the stew out of his hair. Now that it was gone from his face, Florin could see two crisscrossing rows of fresh bloody scratches the Lady Crownsilver had left on Delbossan’s cheek, by way of loving adornment.

Their eyes met, and both men shook their heads in unison.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, lad,” said Delbossan.

“ I can’t see Lord Hezom taming her-not unless he’s planning on using you, Tarleth, and all your whips and bridles to break her!”

“Ha ha, lad, tempt me not,” Delbossan replied, rising and shaking himself like a dog to be rid of a dripcloak of water.

Florin waved an arm at the stream. “So, has she an oh-so-haughty servant to bathe her, or are you expected to do that, too?”

“Dismissed all her maids, or they fled,” the horsemaster growled. “She half-slew the last one, I hear. And no, I don’t expect to be plying any backscrapers or holding out any drycloaks this trip, young Florin! Don’t be spreading word I have been, either!”

“Del,” Florin said reprovingly, “that’s not my way.”

“I know it, lad,” the horsemaster growled, wading out of the stream and squelching past Florin. “ ’S just I’ve got troubles enough, about now, without half the King’s Forest thinking I’m bedding this dragon!”

“Dragon, is it? Face full of fangs, has she? Ugly as an old toad?”

“Oh, she’s beautiful enough-if ye like ivory curves mated with the tongue, temper, and nails of a snarling wardog!”

The horsemaster turned, shaking his head, and added, “Must be rooted in being reared noble-no woman of Espar behaves thus!”

Florin surprised himself then. Without really knowing why, he found himself clasping Delbossan’s forearms, leaning down over the older man in his urgency, blurting, “Let me do it, Del. Let me take her on a-a little foray through the forest, then back to meet up with you again. I can follow the Dathyl here up past Espar, and join you at Hunter’s Hollow!”

The horsemaster blinked at him in utter astonishment.

“Wha- why? ”

“I–I think I can break in yon highnose-lass a bit, without whips, lead-reins, bowls of stew, or Lord Hezom made miserable for a summer, with… well, a walk in the woods!”

Delbossan stared at Florin. His jaw had dropped open.

“Let the mud, the thorns, the stinging insects-and feeling lost, cold, and hungry, to say nothing of the little matter of having to walk a good distance,” Florin said swiftly, shaking his old friend, “break her high-and-mightiness, or at least tire her out a bit and make her a shade more grateful for having shelter and riches. I could pretend to be a beast or outlaw after dusk, and chase her out of her tent-and then rescue her, as Florin the wandering forester, the moment she’s in the deep trees.”

“ Lad! She’s not to be touched! If-” Delbossan’s voice was raw with horror.

“I can control my lusts, thank you, Master Delbossan,” Florin said firmly. “And I believe you know me well enough to be sure I’m chasing no ransom here. Nor rescue-coin.”

“But why by all the gods would ye want to get mixed up in this? She’s-”

“Del, I’ve never even seen a noble, let alone talked to one! And beautiful, you say! Silks, velvet, facepaint, and airy graces-all here, not in stinking Suzail with me trying to peer past half a hundred glaring guards, to even get a glimpse of her!”

“But if she’s harmed-if she even thinks ye’ve pawed her, whate’er the truth, lad, your life is forfeit and so’s mine! I dare not-”

“Let her starve on the road to Espar because your bald head is so greedy for rabbit stew!”

The horsemaster shook his head and plucked himself free of Florin’s grasp.

“Ye’re wanderwitted, lad. Wild-crazed!”

“I’m… perhaps I am. Del, hear me! I-don’t you remember when you were young? I’m like that now, aye?”

The horsemaster’s look of horror deepened. “Ye want to bed half Espar, without any of them knowing about the oth-?” Then, as Florin’s expression changed to one of amazement, Delbossan flushed a deep red, shut his mouth like a poacher’s trap, shook his head violently, and whirled around to stamp back down the trail.

“Del!” Florin hissed urgently, grabbing at his arm. “Del, listen! ”

The horsemaster kept walking.

“Del,” Florin said quickly, into the older man’s ear, “you trained me! As a little lad, with smiles, apples, and letting me ride: you trained me. I’m a steed you schooled and sent into the world seeing things your way. My parents told me what was decent and right, aye, but you made their words true by showing me they weren’t just trying to sway me with empty speeches-just by being yourself, you showed me what it is to be of Cormyr. You know what I will and won’t do.”

The horsemaster swung around again.

“Lad,” he said heavily, “ye’re what they call ‘handsome.’ I’d hate to be the cause of the two of ye-both young, both headstrong-rutting because ye’re alone together. What if ye get her with child? Hey? What then? I say again: her life would be ruined, but thine and mine’d be ended, short and sharp! If not by blade by the king’s decree, then by bow or dagger, some night soon, on Lord Crownsilver’s orders!”

“Thaerefoil,” Florin said firmly, fingers busy at one of his belt pouches. He held out the leaves for Delbossan to see. “You know what it does.”

“Makes even a stallion less than a man,” the horsemaster murmured, bending to smell the leaves. “Fresh. Ye just gathered these.”

“I did. Not with this in mind, but…”

Delbossan looked up at the young forester. “Ye’d drink a tea made with this-of my making, and with me watching?”

Florin put the smallest leaf in his mouth, chewed, opened his mouth to show the horsemaster its crushed paste on his tongue, swallowed, and opened his mouth again for inspection.

“Gods above,” Delbossan murmured, “that much’ll unman ye for days!” He gave Florin a long look. “And if she runs off and breaks her neck, or gets eaten by wolves?”

Florin drew his dagger. “This shall defend her. No harm will come to her, and I’ll demand no coin of her family nor spread falsehood about her. I swear by the Purple Dragon and by the honor of the Falconhands. I swear by the Lady of the Forest I serve.”

His last sentence seemed to roll away among the trees, echoing weirdly, and as Delbossan stepped back in amazement, leaves everywhere seemed to glow, for just a moment. The older man caught his breath as he watched them fade.

Florin seemed unaware of both glow and voice-thunder, but stood eyeing the horsemaster, his gaze steady. “Well?”

Teeth flashed in Delbossan’s sudden smile. “Lad, I begin to feel delighted. Mind ye tell me all about it, after.”