A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [61]
"I will try to arrange what you desire," Tonthan replied carefully. "It is not a matter of cost, or of any shortfall in skills of the more discreet and, ah, biddable mages available to us here in Sirlptar, but rather that Blackgult bears some magic of his own-granted to him as regent, we believe-that often foils the spells of others."
He leaned forward until his nose was almost among the decanters. "We, too, see a value in what you propose. If all the tales of the regent being able to summon the Sleeping King are true-and many respected men of Sirl were present when Snowsar named your foe regent, and swear this is so-and further, that Snowsar's awakening will also unbind the Serpent, as the king insisted upon that occasion, then we of Sirl feel we must all know what happens to the regent, and when."
The spokesman for the Isles nodded slowly. "Thus far agreement has been both surprisingly plentiful and easily reached between us. If I may propose one additional matter for us to agree upon, admittedly more trivial: let this tavern be our meeting place henceforth, upon signals between us being exchanged as before. Have we-?"
Tonthan smiled. "We do. Is our mutual business concluded at this time, then?"
"It is." They rose in a scraping of chairs and extended their hands towards each other across the table, empty palms up but not quite touching each other, in the usual parting of merchants.
To Tonthan's astonishment, the Ieiremboran suddenly smiled. So they could smile, after all.
All who'd met departed at intervals, and took various routes away from the tavern through the Sirl alleys. So it was that Sathbrar took his leave of Tonthan moments after descending into the taproom, and was quite alone when he turned onto Sandraea Street, and paused at a spot where many folk do, where the street looks out over the trees of gardens below.
There he gazed out and down whilst pulling his cloak over his yellow silks. "A last glass of thraevin," he murmured, voice slurring as the length of his jaw changed and the nose above it also shifted shape, "and then it's high time I went to whisper in a certain regent's ear."
Without wasting breath on a reply, the Regent of Aglirta hurled the full power of the Dwaer at the young wizard. The very air around him shuddered with the force of his strike-but Jhavarr's howl was louder.
Blackgult watched as his foe was hurled away across the battlefield, lightnings spitting from fingertips as the rings thereon exploded, and shook his head. 'Jhavarr Bowdragon?" he asked the dead warriors all around him heatedly. "Graul and bebolt, who is Jhavarr Bowdragon? Just one more young fool of an overambitious wizard? And why must he challenge me now?"
His sword was cool enough to take up into his hand again, but as he hefted it, he saw armored men hastening towards him. Blackgult sighed and took up a stance ere he recognized a face or two-these were not Bloodblade's men coming to slay, but battered men of Aglirta who greeted him with smiles and his battle cry: "For the Risen King!"
Blackgult gave them a grim but smiling greeting. "Well, at least I'll fall in the company of friends-and these fields are as good a place to die as any!"
"What?" one bristle-bearded armaragor growled in mock horror. "Not lying in a pool of wine with a dozen lovely lasses? I thought the Three and I had a solemn agreement on that!"
There was a chorus of rueful laughter-but it ended abruptly when the bearded armaragor pointed across the strewn bodies, and said warningly, "Lord Blackgult, 'ware!"
Jhavarr Bowdragon was flying low over the field towards them. His hands were blackened claws, his eyes were two flames of fury, and a Dwaer-Stone was circling in the air above his head.
Blackgult's face tightened. "Get back!" he said warningly to the men around him. "Well away, and lie low among the fallen-there'll be wizard-fire all over this hill in a moment! Go!"
Jhavarr's first