Laurana sighed, though she caught herself glancing at the drawn curtains with a strange fascination. “How did the Tower come to be cursed?” she asked instead.
“It was during the—oh, I say, here’s someone who can tell the story far better than I,” Lord Amothus said, looking up in relief as the door opened. “It isn’t a story I enjoy relating, to be perfectly honest.”
“Astinus of the Library of Palanthas,” announced the herald.
To Laurana’s astonishment, every man in the room rose respectfully to his feet, even the great generals and noblemen. All this, she thought, for a librarian? Then, to her even greater astonishment, the Lord of Palanthas and all his generals and all the nobles bowed as the historian entered. Laurana bowed, too, out of confused courtesy. As a member of the royal houseof Qualinesti, she was not supposed to bow before anyone on Krynn unless it be her own father, Speaker of the Suns. But when she straightened and studied this man, she felt suddenly that bowing to him had been most fitting and proper.
Astinus entered with an ease and assurance that led her to believe he would stand unabashed in the presence of all the royalty on Krynn and the heavens as well. He seemed middle-aged, but there was an ageless quality about him. His face might have been chiseled out of the marble of Palanthas itself and, at first, Laurana was repelled by the cold, passionless quality of that face. Then she saw that the man’s dark eyes literally blazed with life, as though lit from within by the fire of a thousand souls.
“You are late, Astinus,” Lord Amothus said pleasantly, though with a marked respect. He and his generals all remained standing until the historian had seated himself, Laurana noticed, as did even the Knights of Solamnia. Almost overcome with an unaccustomed awe, she sank into her seat at the huge, round table covered with maps which stood in the center of the great room.
“I had business to attend to,” Astinus replied in a voice that might have sounded from a bottomless well.
“I heard you were troubled by a strange occurrence.” The Lord of Palanthas flushed in embarrassment. “I really must apologize. We have no idea how the young man came to be found in such an appalling condition upon your stairs. If only you had let us know! We could have removed the body without fuss—”
“It was no trouble,” Astinus said abruptly, glancing at Laurana. “The matter has been properly dealt with. All is now at an end.”
“But … uh … what about the … uh … remains?” Lord Amothus asked hesitantly. “I know how painful this must be, but there are certain health proclamations that the Senate has passed and I’d like to be sure all has been attended to.…”
“Perhaps I should leave,” Laurana said coldly, rising to her feet, “until this conversation has ended.”
“What? Leave?” The Lord of Palanthas stared at her vaguely. “You’ve only just come—”
“I believe our conversation is distressing to the elven princess,” Astinus remarked. “The elves, as you remember,my lord, have a great reverence for life. Death is not discussed in this callous fashion among them.”
“Oh, my heavens!” Lord Amothus flushed deeply, rising and taking her hand. “I do beg your pardon, my dear. Absolutely abominable of me. Please forgive me and be seated again. Some wine for the princess—” Amothus hailed a servant, who filled Laurana’s glass.
“You were discussing the Towers of High Sorcery as I entered. What do you know of the Towers?” Astinus asked, his eyes staring into Laurana’s soul.
Shivering at that penetrating gaze, she gulped a sip of wine, sorry now that she had mentioned it. “Really,” she said faintly, “perhaps we should turn to business. I’m certain the generals are anxious to return to their troops and I—”
“What do you know of the Towers?” Astinus repeated.
“I—uh—not much,” Laurana faltered, feeling as if she
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