A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [120]
She would let them do whatever they wanted, from this moment forth. Their lives might be all too short, now that the Serpent was loose.
* * *
Fangs shrieked on stone as the Serpent bit down-striking not at Hawkril or anyone living, but at the throne itself, biting it right up out of the floor with a violence that hurled the armaragor headlong and shook several Serpent-priests off the gallery.
Their screams went unheeded as that great dark head rose, trailing stones and bodies of the Melted, and lofted once more into the sky.
Craer looked at Embra, and whispered, "Lady of Jewels, what shall we do now?"
She gazed at him incredulously through her tears. "You think I have the barest idea?"
The procurer smiled, as severed arms and legs of Melted tumbled down out of the sky, shrugged, and said, "You're the true nobility among us. Weren't you trained to act just as if everything was unfolding as it should, and you always knew what to do? Well?"
"Craer," she murmured at him, "you are such a mocking little weasel- and I love you so much."
"Well," the procurer said brightly, as the great dark head of the Serpent swept down again, jaws agape, "that's a comfort. I'll have need of such comforts in my old age."
The next cellar stank of the river-or rather, of the filth Sirl folk sluiced into the river. They must be at the barge docks at last.
Just ahead of him, someone ran into someone else, stumbled, and cursed. The swift reply was a more vicious curse.
The Tersept of Haeltree smiled to himself. Hail, bright conspiracy!
"Lord Baron?" a voice came out of the darkness ahead.
"Report, Suldun," Maevur Cardassa snapped, by way of a reply. This manner was intended to impress his fellow conspirators, it failed.
"All is ready, Lord," Suldun murmured. "The wizard says one of the men with you has a shielding spell around him."
"What? Torches, at once! The Baron Cardassa sounded alarmed, and many of the men halted and fired questions; there was some shoving in the gloom.
Torches were brought, and a hired Sirl wizard with them; the baron looked less than happy, after his tirade against wizards, that his staffing secrets had been so soon revealed. "That one," the wizard said, pointing to the Tersept of Shaeltor. The other tersepts hastily drew back from Shaeltor, as if fearing the Sirl mage would hurl a lightning bolt-or Shaeltor would do something just as deadly.
"Why, Shaeltor, you astonish me," Maevur Cardassa said airily- though the sweat beading his face in the torchlight was so copious that his manner fooled no one. "To reach such heights of sorcerous accomplishment, and not tell us? I confess myself wounded!"
Not yet, Haeltree thought to himself, keeping his face a careful mask. Not quite yet.
Moving slowly and carefully and keeping his hands in the torchlight, the stout and sweating Tersept of Shaeltor removed a ring from his finger, put it down on the stones underfoot, and stepped back from it. "There's your shielding, I believe," he said. "Please touch it not. My grandsire gave it to me. 'Twas his lucky ring, but now 'tis all I have left of him."
"Not lucky enough, hum?" Maevur said with a little laugh.
The wizard bent over the ring and straightened, walked towards Shaeltor and waved at him to keep moving away, and then stopped and nodded. "He speaks truth."
"I'm no wizard," the Tersept of Shaeltor said hastily. "I couldn't cast a spell if my life depended upon it."
Haeltree winced. Oh, don't say such things around this Maevur. You'll but give him ideas.
"Well, then," the baron said jovially, "it seems our little misunderst-"
A rolling boom that was almost a roar rang through the cellar, like a thunderclap-and the very stones beneath their feet trembled. For just a moment, all the torches went dim, though there was no rush of air-and they blazed brightly again.
Men shouted in alarm, even some of the guards, and the unseen water ahead was suddenly very loud; waves crashed against stone