The Legend Of Eli Monpress Read Free Page A

guards were back at their post, only now with a squad of royal guard and the Master of Security between them and the monster, which lay with its long chin rested on its paws, watching.
    The woman appeared completely unruffled by the sudden arrival of a large number of spears pointed in her direction. If there were any remaining doubts about her being a wizard, the large, ostentatiously jeweled rings covering her fingers put those to rest. She watched patiently, gently tapping her nails against the large ruby on her thumb, which was beginning to glow like an ember in the bright sun. Several of the men started to ease back toward the gatehouse, their spears wobbling, and the Master of Security decided it was time to take control of the situation.
    “I hear you have a warning for the king,” he said boldly. “You may speak it to me.”
    “My orders are to speak only to the king himself,” Miranda said. “It is a matter of some delicacy.”
    “I am Oban, Master of Security. You’ll speak it to me, or not at all,” he huffed.
    Miranda looked at Gin, who flicked his ear in the ghosthound equivalent of a shrug. “I suppose we have wasted enough time,” she said. “I am here on behalf ofthe Spirit Court by order of the Rector Spiritualis, Etmon Banage. Yesterday morning we received a tip that the known fugitive wizard and wanted criminal Eli Monpress has been sighted within your kingdom. It is our belief that he is after an old wizard artifact held in your treasury. I am here to offer my assistance to keep him from stealing it.”
    There was a long pause, and Miranda got the horrible, sinking feeling that she had missed something important.
    “Lady,” the Master of Security said, shaking his head, “if you’re here to warn the king about Eli, then you’re a little late.”
    Miranda scowled. “You mean he’s already stolen the artifact?”
    “No.” The Master of Security sighed. “He’s stolen the king.”
    Three hours later, Miranda was seated at the foot of a small table in a cramped office in the lower part of the castle. Oban, Master of Security, the Master of the Exchequer, and the Master of the Courts were crammed together at the other end of the table, as far from her as possible. Other than Oban, none of them had told her their names, and they all looked equally displeased at being cornered in a small room with a wizard. Still, this was a step forward. An hour ago, she’d been sitting in the throne room with all forty masters of Mellinor, whom she guessed were the local equivalent of the standard governing body of lords and appointees that most kingdoms this size seemed to favor, staring daggers at her. It was only after much official argument that these three had stepped forward to speak for the whole, but from the way theywere glaring at her, Miranda didn’t think she’d gotten off any easier. In fact, she was beginning to regret telling Gin to wait at the gate. Miranda knew from experience that a large set of teeth on one’s side tended to make these bureaucratic talks much easier.
    Still, for all their pomp, the men across from her seemed to be in no hurry to get things started. After several minutes of waiting, compounded by the hours already wasted while the Mellinor officials decided who was going to deal with her, Miranda came to the conclusion that civility could get one only so far in life, and she cut straight to the point.
    “Gentlemen,” she said. “This would be much easier if you just told me the whole story.”
    The two nameless officials sneered, but Oban, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed. “There’s not much to tell,” he said. “We caught Eli this morning trying to get the king’s prized stallion out of the stables. The horse made a racket and the Master of the Stables caught him red-handed. The thief gave up immediately, and as soon as he told us his name was Eli Monpress … Well,” Oban said and shrugged, “who hasn’t heard of him? I was called in and we