"Of Lady Pheirauze, you mean," the seneschal corrected with a smile. "Nay, I know my duty. Let the Summerstars detest me. I serve Pyramus first, the realm second, Athlan third, and the rest of the kin a poor fourth. Best they be gently reminded of that.

"If they want me to walk away from vale, I've a place where I can sit out my last years watching adventurers ride by; hear tales race around the realm and come back again, all twisted; make bad wine and protect the realm by drinking it myself.. and chat coyly with ladies not so young as to be cruel when refusing me."

Ergluth shook his head. "You make retirement sound good. I've kin who'll wear my feet down to stumps dancing every night, and keep me awake until dawn with the noise of young bucks rushing my nieces off their feet."

"You're not still angry with Shaerl for deserting us all to go to Shadowdale? I hear it's a beautiful place-now that Zhent troops aren't trying to burn it down or overrun it every second tenday."

Ergluth waved a dismissive hand. "Nay, she was fun. It's the pompous court boot-lickers among my kin that drive me wild. Be glad you've no noble kindred to embarrass you half so much."

"Truly, the gods felt I'd be better as a humble man," the seneschal observed. "I just sometimes wish they'd not had in mind a state quite so humble."

The boldshield chuckled in reply, and put his glass down. "Call in the wizards; I'll leave a rider in your gate tower should you want us here in haste."

"Let us hope no such frantic summons is needed," the seneschal said grimly. "If it is, there'll no doubt be a death behind it." He clapped his hand on the boldshield's armored shoulder. "My thanks, whatever lies ahead. When you're gone, I'll send Janrath on a fast horse for the wizards."