Murder in Cormyr Read Free

“I… I swear.”
    “That is quite decent of you,” said the wizard, and then he looked at the cats, just looked at them in a not particularly stern or demanding way, but it was as though I were suddenly one of the family. The growling ceased on the instant, and I was nearly knocked off my feet by a multitude of fuzzy backs and legs rubbing up against my ankles, one of which still oozed blood.
    “They seem to be good judges of character,” the wizard said, still patting the cat in his arms, “despite their guardian proclivities. Once they are assured there is no danger to me,
    they treat the interloper fairly. Were you truly an evil man, bent upon my destruction, they would still be on their guard, watching you every second. So, even though you have broken in here illegally, you strike them as an honest fellow. Quite a paradox. Honest but ill-advised, perhaps?”
    I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say. Here I was, caught red-handed (literally, I thought, wiping blood from my fingers) burglarizing the abode of a retired War Wizard. I was nearly aghast at my own stupidity—and ill luck.
    “Put a few logs on the fire, stranger,” the wizard said, sitting down in a chair large enough to hold his heavy frame. Immediately a score of cats sought the comfort of his capacious lap, and he chuckled again, accommodating as many as he could and gently shooing the rest to the floor.
    “You’ll find a teapot on the hearth. There’s tea in the kitchen. Fetch it, put some water on the fire, and we’ll have a cup together.”
    He didn’t caution me not to run away, but he didn’t have to. A dozen of his cats came along with me, and I had the feeling that if I had made any move to escape, we would have been joined by the others. By candlelight, I found the tea, returned to the wizard, and before too long was sitting across from him, sipping a very good cup of tea, if I say so myself.
    Benelaius took a sip and nodded appreciatively. “So tell me, what prompted you to enter my house?”
    There was no point in a lie, since I felt he would have quickly detected one. “A dare,” I said shamefacedly. “I was just supposed to come in, take something, and leave. But I picked up a cat by mistake.”
    “Had I not entered when I did,” the wizard said, “they might have harmed you. Irreparably. Burglary is a crime, you know.”
    “I know, sir.”
    “I should by all rights turn you over to the authorities. You would undoubtedly serve a prison term. And then you would be released, hardened, made even stupider than you are, and probably become a professional thief, in and out of prison until one of your victims finally puts you out of your misery. Or…”
    He cocked his head. ‘You could reform yourself, with my aid of course. You brew a decent cup of tea. What work do you do?”
    “I’m slop boy at an inn in Ghars.”
    “Slop boy,” he repeated thoughtfully, stroking a cat with one hand and his long gray beard with the other, while the cup and saucer trembled on his broad belly. ‘Then domestic service to a gentleman such as myself would be a step up. I need someone to run my errands to town and keep the cottage clean and running… and to look after the cats. I’ve hesitated because of the expense, but…”
    He eyed me for a moment, and the intensity of his gaze belied his easy manner of speech. I felt as though he were peering into my brain, plucking out the thoughts and examining them. At last he spoke again.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Jasper,” I said.
    “All right, Jasper, my name is Benelaius, and here is my proposition. I give you two options. Option one, I turn you over to the Purple Dragon contingent and tell them I caught you burglarizing my house, which, as we both know, is the truth. Option two, you agree to become my indentured servant for a period of, say, one year. You do whatever I tell you to do—go, fetch, clean, carry, cook—for which you will receive your room and board, and an