Death of the Dragon

37

Keeping the ghazneth centered in Alaphondar’s new spyglass was not easy, especially not when it was circling directly overhead and kept vanishing behind the palace roof for two seconds at a time.

Vangerdahast had developed a painful crick in his neck, and his arms ached from holding the heavy brass tube over his eye. His vision had grown spotty and painful from continually swinging the lens across the midday sun. Still, the device worked well enough for him to glimpse a pair of leathery black wings, two thin arms, and two crooked legs. The thing was definitely a ghazneth.

Vangerdahast lowered the spyglass and returned it to Alaphondar. “It works better than the last one. I saw what I was looking at.”

The sage beamed at the compliment. “Not as clear as one of your spells, but it has its uses.”

“Could you tell which one it was?” asked Tanalasta.

Vangerdahast shook his head. “Alaphondar hasn’t improved it that much.”

“The priests have stopped trying to heal Azoun,” said Filfaeril, speaking from the balcony door. It was the first time in decades Vangerdahast had seen her looking less than radiant. Her eyes were swollen and rimmed in red, her face puffy and pale, her expression haggard and mad with worry. “They say the spells don’t work. They say the magic only gives them away to the dragon and draws ghazneths.”

Vangerdahast went to the door and clasped Filfaeril’s arm. “I’ll get there,” he promised.

He saw Tanalasta exchange a nervous glance with Owden.

“I have no doubt,” said the princess, “but we must decide how. When you leave the palace, that scepter will draw the ghazneth to you like a vulture to a dead man.” She nodded into the drawing room, where the Scepter of Lords rested in the grasp of a wide-eyed palace guard. “Even an escort of two full companies wouldn’t guarantee your arrival.”

“There are safer ways to travel-and faster,” said Vangerdahast.

“Not if you mean teleporting,” Tanalasta replied. “Not with Nalavara so near.”

“She takes teleporters out of the air the way hawks take sparrows,” explained Owden. “The realm has lost too many men to her already.”

“The last just this morning, I fear,” said Alaphondar. He was seated in the corner, leaning back against the balustrade with the spyglass to his eye. “No one has heard from Korvarr and his company since they left.”

Vangerdahast saw the guilty look that flashed across Tanalasta’s face and realized she was beginning to second-guess her decisions. He gave Filfaeril’s arm a last squeeze, then returned to the balcony to stand beside the princess.

“When this is over, we must remember to commend Korvarr for his sacrifice,” Vangerdahast said. “No doubt, it was his distraction that allowed Lords Tolon and Braerwinter to carry the king to safety.”

Tanalasta smiled and took his hand. “What did you do with our royal magician? The Vangey I recall would not have been so kind.” She looked past Vangerdahast, her attention returned to the distant ghazneth. “Alaphondar, any guess as to who that is?”

“I don’t think it’s Boldovar,” answered the sage. “The body appears too lanky, and there seems to be long hair blowing over its back.”

“Suzara, then.” The relief in Tanalasta’s voice was clear. “Do you think we have any chance of luring her down here?”

“She’s being very cautious,” said the sage, “but she must be desperate or she wouldn’t be circling the palace.”

“Then we must appear desperate ourselves and offer her something tempting,” said Tanalasta. She stepped past Vangerdahast and addressed the guards in the drawing room.

“Send a messenger. The Queen’s Cavalry is to prepare at once for a hard ride, and have the royal magician’s coward of a horse readied to go with them.”

“Cadimus?” Vangerdahast gasped. At least there was some good news. “He’s here? How?”

“It is a long story,” said Tanalasta. “But were I you, I would stay close to that horse. He has a talent for survival.”

As Tanalasta explained her plan and issued the necessary orders, Vangerdahast could not help swelling with pride. The princess had become as natural a leader as her father and sister, though with a harder edge than Azoun and a keener sense of human frailty than Alusair. Even Filfaeril, as distraught and frightened as she was over Alusair’s loss and the terrible wounds Azoun had suffered, seemed to take comfort in Tanalasta’s sure orders. The crown princess was going to make a fine queen someday-though preferably not too soon and preferably of something more than Cormyr’s ruins.

When Tanalasta finished her commands, Vangerdahast nodded sagely. “A sound plan, Princess, but I do have one suggestion.”

“You may suggest anything, Vangerdahast,” said Tanalasta, “but do recall that I have destroyed four of these things by now.”

“I could hardly forget, Highness,” he said, smiling. She had given him a complete account of each ghazneth’s destruction, including that of spiteful Luthax, who had mumbled curses and threats from inside his iron box even as she absolved him of his betrayal. Vangerdahast touched his iron crown, which even Owden had not been able to dislodge with his prayers. “All I ask is that you let me handle the iron. Iron I can do, and since your plan depends on impressing Suzara with the palace’s luxury, it might be wisest not to tear the place up before she sees it.”

Tanalasta nodded, then issued orders for her dragoneers to wait outside the door in case something went wrong and asked Alaphondar to the escort her mother to a safe place. Vangerdahast was surprised when Filfaeril did not protest. Matters had changed a great deal over the past eight months-a very great deal.

Once the queen was gone, the princess guided Vangerdahast into a quiet corner where they would not be overheard as dragoneers bustled about making final preparations.

“While we’re waiting, there was something I wanted to ask you about.”

Vangerdahast’s stomach filled with butterflies. He had a good idea what she intended to ask, and his promise to Rowen prevented him from giving an honest answer. Ordinarily, he would not have been troubled by the prospect of a little prevarication, but this was a different Tanalasta than the one he had left behind. She would not be easily deceived.

He folded his hands behind his back. “Of course, Highness,” he said. “Ask me anything.”

Tanalasta hesitated, then said, “When I contacted you, I was trying to reach Rowen.”

“So I gathered.”

She fingered the silver amulet that hung from her neck. “We were using Rowen’s holy symbol as a focus.”

Vangerdahast raised his brow. “How very unusual that you contacted me, then.”

“Yes, isn’t it? And both times before I saw you, there was a shadowy face first-a shadowy face that resembled Rowen, but with white eyes.”

Vangerdahast put on a concerned frown. “And what did Owden say about this face?”

“That he didn’t know what to make of it,” said Tanalasta. “Any more than why Rowen’s symbol should have led me to you.”

“And so you are asking me?” Vangerdahast shook his head sagely. “Souls are Owden’s concern, not mine.”

Tanalasta sighed. “Of course they are, but I was wondering if you might not have been there alone.”

“I was hardly alone, Highness.” Vangerdahast tapped his iron crown. “There were plenty of Grodd. They made me their king, if you’ll recall.”

“I’m not talking about goblins.”

“Then I guess I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vangerdahast shrugged. “I can assure you, I was the only man there. My, er, subjects would certainly have brought it to my attention if there were others.”

“The thing is, if Rowen was there, he might not have looked like a man.” Tanalasta looked at the corner, then continued with a catch in her throat. “Before I destroyed Xanthon, he said something cruel.”

“That’s hardly surprising. I hope you made him suffer for it.”

“Nothing I could have done would have been enough,” she said. “He claimed that Rowen had betrayed Cormyr.”

“Rowen?” Vangerdahast tried to sound surprised.

Tanalasta raised a hand. “He said that Rowen was one of them.”

“What? A ghazneth?” Vangerdahast shook his head in mock disappointment. “Princess, I’m surprised at you. I’d have thought you understood by now how evil feeds on doubt.”

“I know,” said Tanalasta, “but there was that face. It looked so much like Ro-“

“Because that is what you wanted to see,” Vangerdahast interrupted. He took the princess by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “Rowen would never betray Cormyr, or you. I know that, even if you do not.”

Tanalasta’s face softened. “Thank you, Vangerdahast.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, then said, “You’re right. I do know it.”

“Good.” The sigh under Vangerdahast’s breath was not quite one of relief. The princess had given up a little too easily, perhaps because she really did not want to know the truth. He took her hand and started toward the center of the room. “We should see to our ghazneth.”

Tanalasta looped her arm through Vangerdahast’s elbow. “By all means. And, Vangerdahast, why did you never ask me who fathered my child?”

“I didn’t?”

Tanalasta shook her head. “You didn’t seem curious at all.”

Vangerdahast assumed a gruff voice. “I assumed it to be Rowen. It would be too much to hope you had married somebody appropriate.”

“Really. And who said I was married?”

Vangerdahast cursed under his breath. The girl was too smart for her own good. “You’d better be,” he said. “The last thing Cormyr needs now is a succession war.”

He stopped in the center of the room and took the Scepter of Lords from the nervous guard, then pointed the man to the balcony. “Young man, in a handful of moments I’m going to come streaking through that window like a flaming star. You and two men of your choosing are to slam and bar the doors behind me-and do it quickly, for all our lives will depend on it.”

Tanalasta looked nervous. “Vangerdahast, if there is any risk to this plan…”

“Risk? There’s no risk if this boy does as he’s told-and is quick about it.” Vangerdahast motioned the guard off, then started to the balcony doors. “The royal magician has returned.”

With Tanalasta following along behind, Vangerdahast went to the balcony entrance. He pulled a pinch of powdered iron from the pouch he was using to carry spell ingredients and rubbed it over the doors, at the same time uttering one of the spells he had fashioned to make the best use of his burdensome crown. His head erupted into white pain as it always did when he made iron, but he was prepared for the shock and managed to endure it with no more than a long grunt. A gray-black darkness spread over the doors, then a long series of creaks and pops echoed through the room as the wood and glass changed to thick, heavy iron.

The ghazneth bell clanged to life, filling the bailey with a deep, insistent knelling.

“Your magic seems to have caught our visitor’s interest,” said Tanalasta.

“It’s not Boldovar come to join us?”

“That would be a different bell,” answered the princess, “and I would be much paler.”

“Well then, let’s have at her and be done with it.”

Vangerdahast stepped out onto the balcony and saw that Suzara had circled down to within a hundred yards of the palace roof. She was close enough to see what was happening, yet high enough to make her a difficult target for the archers’ iron-tipped arrows. He could just make out the red flush of her oblong eyes glaring down at him, and for the first time he wondered if his boasts about how easily he would subdue her had been somewhat overstated. From such a low height, she would be on him almost the moment he was in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Tanalasta asked.

Vangerdahast glanced back and saw not only the princess studying him, but Owden and the guards as well. If he changed plans now, their confidence would go the way of Korvarr and his company.

“Just planning my route.” He shooed Tanalasta back into the room. “To your hiding place.”

“Be careful, Old Snoop.”

“I will be quick.” Vangerdahast drew a crow’s feather from his spell pouch. “That is better.”

As he started his flying spell, the ghazneth dipped a wing and began to circle lower. Vangerdahast brushed the feather over his arms and finished the incantation in a flurry, then took the Scepter of Lords in both hands and sprang into the air. Even as he banked toward Lake Azoun, he felt the iron crown drawing his spell’s magic into itself, robbing him of precious speed and flight time. It might have been wise to warn the princess about this particular handicap, but then again maybe not. She would probably have insisted on doing things her own way.

The ghazneth bell began to clang madly, and Vangerdahast knew Suzara was coming after him. He dropped down below the crest of the outer curtain and banked hard toward Etharr Hall. A sharp thump sounded behind him as his pursuer hit the wall and dropped to the ground. The erratic clatter of firing crossbows echoed across the bailey, and Vangerdahast glanced back to see a cloud of iron quarrels descending on the ghazneth from the ramparts above.

Though more than a few bolts found their mark, Suzara spread her wings and launched herself, dodging and weaving, after Vangerdahast. Even as she flew, her wounds began to close. The quarrels dropped from her body and clanged to the cobblestones below, and only a handful of new ones took their place. Vangerdahast soared over the roof of Etharr Hall, then dropped low and skimmed the ground, circling around the building back toward Palace Hall.

The ghazneth shot over the roof of Etharr Hall in the opposite direction but saw Vangerdahast and dipped a wing to wheel around. Praying he had the speed to outrun her for just fifty more paces, he soared back toward Tanalasta’s balcony. A flurry of bowstrings throbbed from the windows along both sides of the bailey. Dark streams of arrows zipped through the air behind, tracing the ghazneth’s progress as she closed the distance to him.

Finally, the balustrade loomed before Vangerdahast. He scraped over it screaming in terror-it was only an act to distract the ghazneth, of course-then shot through the open doors and across the entire drawing room before a deafening clang sounded behind him.

His flying spell expired an instant later, a dozen steps into the long hallway outside the drawing room. Though only traveling at a quarter speed, he hit hard and tumbled headlong down the floor. A pair of dragoneers managed to grab hold and prevented him from plunging down a sweeping staircase.

“Lord wizard, are you all right?”

“What do you think?” Vangerdahast allowed the guards to pull him to his feet, then shook them off and stumbled back into the drawing room.

By the time he arrived, the battered balcony doors were already open. The ghazneth was surrounded by a handful of dragoneers, all hacking and chopping at her while Tanalasta kneeled at her side, struggling to pull a glittering necklace of diamonds over her broken skull.

“Suzara Obarskyr, wife to Ondeth the Founder and mother to Faerlthann the First King, as a true Obarskyr and heir to the Dragon Throne, I grant you the thing you most desire, the thing for which you abandoned your husband and son-I grant you the luxury and wealth of the Suzail Palace.”

Vangerdahast arrived to see the darkness drain from Suzara’s face, leaving behind the careworn visage of a brown-haired woman who did not look so different from Tanalasta herself. The woman’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, and she began to groan and froth at the mouth and jerk about spasmodically, as the victims of head wounds were sometimes prone to do.

Tanalasta touched her hand to Suzara’s trembling brow. “And as a direct descendent of your line and heir to the crown, I forgive your betrayal and absolve you, Suzara Obarskyr, of all crimes against Cormyr.”

When the princess removed her hand, Suzara simply continued to thrash about and foam at the mouth.

Tanalasta frowned and looked to Owden, who could only scowl and shake his head in bewilderment. Vangerdahast kneeled beside Tanalasta and pressed her hand back to Suzara’s shattered skull.

“And in the name of Cormyr and its royal line through thirteen centuries, and its strong and loyal people, we thank you,” the royal magician said. “We thank you for the sacrifices you did make, and we pledge to honor your memory even as we honor Ondeth’s.”

Tanalasta nodded. “So it will be,” she said. “As Crown Princess Tanalasta Obarskyr and a daughter of your line, I pledge it so.”

Suzara’s eyes opened again, then she fell still and silent and sank, at last, into a peaceful rest.