From: alden@coos.dartmouth.edu (Laurie F. Alden)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [L] Luthor and Serene, Part 3
Date: 8 Oct 92 17:11:22 GMT
Organization: Dartmouth College, Hanover, NH

After leaving the Generican Public gardens, the couple turned and strolled to
  the Royal Palace.  When they approached, an innordinate number of guards
  seemed to be on duty at the castle.

  "What is all of this?" Luthor asked Serene.  He had a concerned look on his
  face.

  "I'm not sure.  Usually things are sort of relaxed here...well at least since
  the Swamp Wars," Serene was also worried by the guards' actions.  The two
  decided to get a closer look, but a group of six guards came out to intercept
  them before they could get halfway to the front gate.

  "Hold.  State your business here or be on your way.  We are receiving no
  visitors today," One said in a commanding voice.

  Luthor was about to speak when one of the six dropped to his knees and took off
  his helm, placing it under his arm. "All hail Lord Anside, Nobleman of Cormyr!"
  He shouted.  The others dropped to a similar posture, but had puzzled looks
  on their faces.  Luthor looked at the man who had made the command and suddenly
  realized WHO was speaking.  He was a very well-built elf in his early 90's.
  His skin glimmered golden in the midday sun and his hair was almost as black as
  Luthor's cloak.

  "Partaus!  Lathander shines brightly today.  I thought you were dead.  Will
  you get back on your feet, you are embarassing me."  Luthor was smiling so
  widely that Serene thought that his face was going to split in half.  "Oh,
  excuse my horrible manners.  Partaus, this is Serene of the Mists.  Serene,
  this is Parteus.  He used to work as one of my bodyguards."

  "I am truly pleased to meet you M'Lady."  Partaus made a sweeping bow just
  like Luthor's ones.  She could see that he had a tattoo of a blue rose on
  his neck, just like the one that was currently entwined in Serene's hair.

  Serene blushed at the name given by Luthor and extended her hand to the guard,
 "Good afternoon, Partaus, the pleasure is returned."  She seemed to be looking
him over thoughtfully.

  Seeing that this man was no immediate threat to the palace, the other guards
  returned to their posts.

  "M'Lord, I must return to my station, but now that I know that you live, I
  would be honored to return to your service as soon as my current tour is over
  here at the Palace," he said with pride.

  "I would be glad to have you back Partaus.  I am staying at the Dragons Inn.
  Before you go, could you tell me what all the fuss is about."

  "There appears to be some political tension in Ramshan and Generica is
  involved.  We must be careful to guard against assassins.  I really don't
  know much more than that M'Lord.  If I learn more, I will tell you."  Partaus
  bowed and began to leave to join the other guards.

"If you come to visit your Lord at the Inn," Serene stopped Partaus
with her voice, "you will find that we have a very few bottles of
Palshya's Blackberry Wine."

Partaus raised his eyebrows.  The gypsy-woman's wine was a taste he had not sampled
in many years, but one he would not forget.  He almost stammered with surprise,
"Thank you, M'Lady, I... will be pleased to share that cup."  With another
confused bow, he rejoined his fellows.

  "Serene, what do you think of this?  I don't know much about the politics of
  the Known Lands, but by the way things sound, perhaps I should learn."
  Luthor looked more interested than concerned now.

  She smiled.  "Politics I cannot tell you much about.  What people drink - and when and why - ..."
She seemed to reconsider.  "But you are my friend.  I can say that the
timbre of the fog has been heavy - full of the energy of many people with
unfulfilled dreams.  The weather patterns themselves have been more
extreme of late, and I predict that they will continue so.  Perhaps it
is a simple outlook, but if the land and its people are intertwined,
this predicts more irrational, impulsive behavior."  She turned quiet
for a moment.  "And perhaps a new saint."

  "Well, lets not let this ruin our day.  Shall we continue?"  Luthor asked
  extending his hand.  They walked South West, getting closer to the ocean.
  The smell of salt air filled Luthor's lungs and brought back memories of
  sailing when he was a child.  It also reminded him of the question that he'd
  been meaning to ask Serene.

  "Serene, I don't mean to pry, but whose child are you carrying?" Luthor asked
  kindly and without judgement.

  Her visage transformed.  Love and pride filled her eyes and fairly
radiated.  Turning her gestures seaward, her voice trembled with
emotion.  "His."  A moment passed before she realized that she had said
nothing and she laughed easily at herself.  "I'm sorry.  I seem to have
a little single-mindedness...  I have lain with no man, Luthor.  My
baby, Mista, is the child of the Fog."


--
Ecclesiastes 3:8.5:  There is a time to fish and a time to cut bait.
lfa@dartmouth.edu