The Lord Prelate of Arnor House drained his glass and poured another. He felt happy to stay just where his was, and he would fight hard to keep that position.
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Chapter 23: Departure
By the end of the third week of preparation, Grimm felt satisfied that the group was ready to leave, and he invited the participants to a meeting in his day-room. The mage regretted that the mighty albino, Tordun, seemed nowhere to be found, although messengers had left word for the titanic swordsman in all his known haunts. Nonetheless, the young mage was not too disappointed; he had a powerful force at his disposal, and, it seemed, even the beginnings of a spirit of camaraderie.
He had always assumed that the main obstacle to forming a cohesive team would be the attitude of his fellow Questor, Guy Great Flame. To his great surprise, despite the haughty avowed disdain for 'hired help', the Great Flame seemed to have developed a genuine friendship with the warriors, Crest and Harvel. Grimm knew that General Quelgrum thought little of Guy as a human being, and the older Questor seemed to reciprocate this; however, each appeared to hold a grudging respect for the other, since their exchanges were at least polite, if cool and formal in tone.
Even Necromancer Numal seemed to have made an effort to increase his value to the expedition, devoting long hours in perfecting his command of the few spells in his magical armoury. It appeared that the lucky acquisition of the two rings on his staff, after a single action in which he had played only a minor role, had focused his mind on the task at hand.
Even Guy now addressed the Necromancer in a polite manner without overt insults, although the relationship between the two men was never particularly warm.
Eying the assembled group in the day-room, Grimm felt a warm shiver of pride running through him; this was his Quest, and these people were at his command. Nonetheless, he knew that the worst thing he could do to destabilise the coterie was to try to impose his authority as he had tried to do earlier. Each member of the team had a vital role to fulfil, were the Quest to succeed; the opinions of each of these older and more experienced men would be important, and should not be belittled or ignored. Grimm had learned a valuable lesson by trying to ride rough-shod over the feelings of others; he felt profound relief that the people he had offended had chosen to overlook his youthful thoughtlessness.
However, overriding the satisfaction he felt at the efficient preparations was Grimm's impression that his two old friends, Crest and Harvel, felt uneasy at the prospect of attacking a nunnery. Perhaps Harvel's religious upbringing, although subsumed by a life of debauchery, was re-asserting itself; perhaps Crest was unhappy at the prospect of assaulting a group of females. Whatever the reason, the fervid spark he had hoped to see was still lacking.
Grimm saw five pairs of eyes fixed on him as he cleared his throat and made ready to speak.
"Gentlemen, I want to say how much I appreciate the efforts you've all made on behalf of this expedition," he said, taking care to meet the gaze of each man in turn as he spoke. "Of course, I'm somewhat younger than all of you, and I may make some dreadful mistakes along the way, so please let me know if you think I'm making too much of an ass of myself. I promise to listen to whatever you say and give it a fair hearing, even if I reserve the right to veto it after proper consideration."
Nobody spoke, but the men all gave cautious nods. Crest and Harvel, in particular, still seemed ill-at-ease, and the mage guessed they were remained to be convinced of the danger the Sisters of Divine Serenity might pose to the Guild.
"Now, I know most of you are still a little dubious about the threat this Order presents, but I'll just remind you that these witches' main talent seems to be mind control, and both Lord Horin and I have felt its very real power. These are not sweet, innocent little nuns, but a major menace to the Guild. I don't know if all the women of the Order are evil witches, or if some or most of them are just blameless dupes, but I'm duty bound to end Lizaveta's manipulative reign one way or the other."
Crest proffered a half-smile and said, "Don't worry, Questor, we're committed to this. We'll be with you all the way, believe me." Nonetheless, the half-elf's tone sounded anything but enthusiastic.
Grimm knew he could place implicit trust in the warriors, but he would rather have them as fervent allies than as dutiful, resigned friends.
This isn't working! the mage thought, surveying five blank faces. I wanted to inspire them, but I just don't seem to be getting through to them! What's the matter? Do they think I'm exaggerating this situation, or something?
"Do you mind if I say a few words, Baron?" General Quelgrum drawled.
"Please, go ahead, General," Grimm replied, only too happy to have someone else take up the slack.
The General stood up, and the young Questor realised for the first time how imposing the broad-shouldered, stocky old soldier's presence was. He wore no medals or badges of rank, and he was dressed in simple robes instead of his normal, form-fitting green attire, but, nonetheless, he seemed to be able to dominate the room through sheer strength of personality.
"I first met Questor Grimm only a few months ago," Quelgrum said in a pleasant, avuncular baritone. "I tried to control him and his fellow wizard-I'm sorry, that's mage-and they and another colleague fought my army and me to a standstill. I might still have beaten them, but only at the cost of many lives I'd sworn never to waste in a fruitless battle. As I now know, the threat of overwhelming opposing force was untrue. Nonetheless, our confrontation had already cost us dear, so I don't regret the decision I made then."
"I'd have thought you'd have been pretty angry to discover you'd been duped, General," Harvel said. "Yet here you are accepting Questor Grimm, here, as your lord and master. It seems a little odd to me."
Quelgrum shrugged. "It was a perfectly legitimate ruse of war, Harvel. I've done similar things myself on occasions, when we were outnumbered or outgunned. In any case, I never wanted to be a mighty warlord; all I ever sought was a home for my charges, somewhere we'd be respected rather than just used. Baron Grimm has provided us with that home.
"Warrior Crest; you were present at that last battle. Did Questor Grimm seem unduly scared or cautious to you?"
Crest snorted. "Far from it, General. He's no coward, I know that, and I don't need you to convince me. I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust and respect him."
"But perhaps you still think this is overkill, or you're unhappy about the necessity of the Quest."
"It's necessary, General, I'm convinced of that. I've given Questor Grimm my word, and I'll do my utmost to fulfil it. All the same, I don't have to like it."
"I've been fighting all my life for one man or another," Quelgrum snapped. "Do you think I enjoyed it? I'm no bloodthirsty sadist, and I hate to waste anybody's life. Of course you don't have to like what's ahead. But you do need to believe in it, heart and soul. If Questor Grimm's worried about this woman and her Order, you can bet that they're not just helpless little old ladies."
"We know that, Quelgrum!" Harvel said. "Sure, she's a menace to society, or whatever, and we'll go along with it. I don't understand what the problem is here. I've offered my sword to this enterprise, and I never do that if I'm not fully committed. What's the bloody issue here? We've said we'll do it, and we will! I don't understand the problem."
"I think I understand the problem, swordsman," Guy said in a lazy voice, stretching like a cat. "You think my dear grandmother's just a misunderstood, sweet little old lady, don't you?"
"Of course not, Questor Guy," Harvel said, bristling. "We already know she's a powerful witch, and she's no push-over. You've told us all about her before. It's just that Crest and I prefer a stand-up fight with armed opponents."