A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [131]
"Hmm," Blackgult murmured, after some dozen tersepts stood facing him, " 'twould appear that Phelinndar has a Dwaer. Or someone with him, who knows how to ward with it as swift as-sorry-a snake."
Craer sighed and turned towards the door. "Right," he said, "I haven't forgotten our mission. Where's his castle, again?"
Tshamarra Talasorn surprised herself, then, by bursting out laughing.
Cardassa's armsmen exchanged startled looks with his bodyguards as the fat baron was suddenly no longer on the barge with them-and then, before their eyes, one tersept after another vanished, too, leaving their oars unmanned and dragging.
"What, by the Dark One-?" Suldun snarled, half drawing his sword, but seeing no foe to bury it in.
"The wizards!" one of the armsmen snapped, pointing at the men of Sirlptar sprawled senseless on the deck boards. His sword flashed out of its sheath, and then stabbed-nowhere, as Suldun's blade met it in an iron-strong parry.
"Don't be a fool" he rasped. "Do these old men look like they can harm a mouse with spells, right now? No, there's something worse afoot, som-"
"Enough shouting!" Maevur Cardassa snarled from behind him. "Do you want all Flowfoam to hear us! Put those swords away-do you see me prancing around, waving my swor-oh."
Suldun swung around, his jaw dropping. His whirling was enough to shield the dozen or so armsmen who couldn't stifle sputters of mirth at the fat baron's rueful expression and hasty sheathing of his so-splendid magic sword.
The armsman he'd parried, however, was not smiling. His eyes were narrowing, and he was shouting, "He-you-the baron! He just appeared, out of the air! I saw him! And his face was all twisted, looking like someone else! Magic! Foul magic!"
"Don't be a fool," said a tersept who'd just reappeared at the baron's elbow-doing just what the armsman had described, in full view of all the staring armsmen on the barge. "Have you never sailed under arms to Flowfoam before? There's a spell-barrier, that snatches each one of us away and makes sure we're not ensorcelled, to keep the-well, to keep the Throne safe." He smirked. "Luckily, it does nothing to peer at our thoughts."
More tersepts vanished-and reappeared-as he spoke. One of them was the Tersept of Ruldor, an old and humorless man, and he strode straight to the baron and muttered something in his ear.
The baron looked devastated, and then at a loss. Then with sudden energy he drew his sword, pointed at the nearest dock-a ramshackle fisherfolk-shared affair of leaning pilings and rotting boards-and said, "Turn in and make fast! We've been detected, and twenty wizards wait at Flow-foam to slay us!"
"So we'll wait for them to come and slay us here?" one of the arms-men snapped.
The baron looked at him in wide-eyed rage, wattles quivering-and grew a sly look that descended rapidly into glee. "No, that's the lovely part of it," he hissed conspiratorially. "If we but wait, they'll very soon fall to fighting among themselves-there's a confrontation brewing in the throne chamber itself!-and on the morrow, we'll stroll in and take the Crown of Aglirta after all!"
There were grumbles of discontent from various of the armsmen, but the tersepts were all nodding vigorously. Moreover, the current was strong, and the dock was near at hand, whereas Flowfoam was a long, hard row against the fastest part of the river. The barges turned towards shore.
"Isn't Thaebred going a little heavy on the overacting?" one tersept muttered to the next, so low-voiced that no one else could hear.
"For playing Maevur Cardassa? I don't know that it's possible to overact, doing that," the tersept who usually answered to the name of Raegrel-or, these last few days, to Red Dream-answered.
The other Koglaur snorted. "I've never seen so many of us gathered in a single whelming before," he murmured, leaning even closer, "and I'm not sure many of these armsmen believed my little spell-barrier tale. Nor do they look like they believe in ghosts. They'll have us pegged as evil wizards, and will