A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [111]
He and the wizard spun around together, to gaze out through the frame where glass had been, moments ago. From this highest ridge in Sirlptar, they could look right up the Vale-miles upon miles of green trees, glimmering curves of river, and verdant shoulders of farm, as far as the eye could see. The keen-eyed claimed to be able to see Flowfoam Isle, amid the trees cloaking the horizon, but Tonthan-whose eyes were quite keen enough-doubted such claims. He'd never been quite able to decide if that smudge of trees was the Royal Isle of Aglirta, or that one, a little way to the right.
Now he thought he knew. What was towering up into the sky almost had to be on Flowfoam. As high as a cloud it loomed, black and terrible, coiling up clearly: a serpent-no, The Serpent, no fancy-beast of bards' tales after all-whose every movement was gloating. It spread jaws that must be wider than the length of most of the ships down at Siri's sea docks, right now-and plunged its head down, striking at something below.
"Well, now," Mranrax Arandor said softly, in a voice that was not quite steady. "Well, now."
Tonthan glanced over at him. The room was still frozen in gasps of awe, with the cursing, screaming, and fleeing still to erupt, but the arch-wizard was trembling.
"And then, of course," he added smoothly, "any wizard sitting on the Throne of Aglirta right now would have to deal with that. Before it bit him into small, bloody gobbets."
His calmness was both surprising and pleasing. Tonthan waited for ppf the wizard's response, but someone else answered, and that was another surprise.
"Very calm, very swift-witted, Tonthan Runthalan. We'll remember that." The voice spoke from very close behind him, and it was one he'd never heard before. And no one-no one-knew Tonthan's true surname. Or so he'd thought.
By then, Tonthan had whirled around. No one was there, of course. Sathbrar blinked at him in mild surprise from half a dozen paces away, from over a plate heaped with grapes and splundroons. The glass the silk-clad merchant was holding was as rock-steady as Tonthan's own.
Or as steady as Tonthan's had been. He whirled around again, and saw fear stark and clear on Mranrax Arandor's face, his eyes still fixed on the distant, titanic bulk of the Serpent.
Thirst for baronies had melted away before a sudden longing to be home in Elmerna, it seemed. Perhaps some small part of Aglirta could be conquered another day… at another time, say, than Serpent season…
The screaming and running had begun now. "It turns this way!" someone shouted. "The Serpent comes!"
Sathbrar joined him. "Splundroon?"
"Thank you," Tonthan said. "I believe I will." Selecting one, he gestured gently in the direction of Flowfoam with his glass. "How can we make some coins off that, do you think?"
Sathbrar shrugged, chewing. There was a sudden movement on Tonthan's other side, a whirling of robes. He turned.
The wizard Arandor was backing away from him, his face pale. "How can you-just-don't you know what that is, out there?"
Tonthan shrugged. Yes, he was getting the hang of these shoulder shiftings; one can convey a surprising amount of information with just the right…
"Of course," he said, mild reproof in his tone. "The Serpent, awake at last. Greatest mage ever; one of the crafters of the Dwaerindim; completely mad; cruel and ruthless beyond peer; driven by the need to rule everyone, everywhere, and everything; able to force men forever into beast-shape with a glance-have I missed anything?"
Mranrax Arandor made a wordless quailing sound, eyes wide-then whirled away from the two Sirl merchants and ran, robes streaming out behind him. His screams followed many others, down the stairs.
Tonthan and Sathbrar turned back to the ruined window, drinks and fruit in hand, to watch the show.
Tonthan shook his head. A good revel, but all wasted. No spells from Arandor to save on hiring-and burying-hireswords, after all. Aglirta was going to have to fall the old, tried, and expensive