Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [67]
In the room he was approaching, three ladies were looking up at the maid with surprise on their faces. "Why, Shantra, what's amiss?" one of them asked, gliding forward.
Huerbara looked at her as if bewildered. "L-lady?"
The dust bag… why've you brought the gown still in its dust bag?"
"Ohh," Huerbara said, trying to look confused-easy enough, she thought wryly-and bent her knees, sagging forward and clutching at her head. "I feel… not right… I…"
"What befalls?" The quick, anxious male voice came from behind her. One of the guards?
"Shantra's been taken ill," said a voice very near, as gentle hands took her forearm and elbow and guided her to a stool.
"That's not Shantra," the male voice said firmly. "Her walk is wrong, and she didn't recognize us."
"And she spoke differently," said one of the women slowly. Then the third woman said quietly, "Speak, Shantra. Name us."
Oh, shadows take them! Not three rooms into the palace! She shook her head. "I…" she said, trying to sound broken.
Then she heard the soft swish of a sword being drawn. Huerbara turned toward the guard with a snarl, extending her breasts into tentacles to hold his eyes, while a third shot out to take his feet from under him.
"Doppleganger!" he bellowed, fear and anger in his eyes as his sword slashed down. Huerbara struck it away with her tentacles, shifting her innards hastily to avoid a lucky blow, and then stiffened with a real shriek of pain as something slim and hard went through her from behind, burning…
She looked dully down at the sword tip protruding from her breast and saw that it was silver. Huerbara wept in agony and did what she had to do, let half her body fall away and be lost to her. With the only arm she had left, she firmly grasped the belt buckle embedded in her flesh and said, "Brathaera."
As the guard battled her writhing tentacles, she simply melted away. He crashed forward helplessly into the wall as Silder came charging around the corner to find three ladies staring down at an amorphous mass on the floor that had one human arm protruding from it- and a slim silver sword cane through it.
"A doppleganger, here?"
The double-chinned, haughty lady who held the handle of the sword cane shook her head. "No. Much worse than that."
"Oh?" Silder asked, raising his eyebrows. "And how would you know, Mistress Iraeyna? Fought many monsters in the nurseries of the palace, have we?"
Mistress Iraeyna, Chief Dresser of the Ladies' Wardrobe, fixed him with cool eyes as she calmly undid the front of her gown and pulled the fabric wide. The two ladies on either side of her gasped.
Both guardsmen gulped-not at the formidable bosom exposed to their gaze, but at the black silk waist-corset just beneath it. Its straining fabric held a too-large tummy firmly in check and sported a silver pin: a harp between the horns of a crescent moon, surrounded by four stars.
"You know this, Silder? Haerarn?" she asked crisply. Both guards nodded dumbly.
"Then follow my orders, as the High Lady's decree binds you to. Into that wardrobe! There may be others- and suspect everything of being a foe, from stool to garment. They're shapeshifters far more deadly than any dopplegangers! Strike to slay, and thrust a silver piece into any wound you make, if you can!"
She bent swiftly and retrieved her sword cane. As she strode forward, Mistress Iraeyna snapped back, "Dansila and Ormue, go straight out that door and lock it behind you. Take your keys and don't tarry for anything! Go to Lady Amathree. If any guards try to stop you, tell them it's Harper business and order them to escort you. If you can't find Lady Amathree, ask for Alustriel herself. Say that there are Malaugrym in the palace! Got that? Malaugrym!"
The wardrobe door banged open, and Silder and Haerarn burst into the room. Silder's eyes were wide with amazement, and Haerarn's were wild with the awful realization that he probably wouldn't find Shantra alive.
It was worse than that. Her body was dancing between two laughing Malaugrym, suspended