Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [150]
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"Oh, just to see him smiling again," the Crown Princess of Cormyr sobbed, "smiling for me!"
"The king your father lives yet," Aunadar said smoothly, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Is that not proof enough of his strength?"
Tanalasta burst into tears-the deep, wracking weeping of a woman who makes no effort to cover her face or hold anything back-and went to her knees on the footstool in front of her. Aunadar circled around to embrace her from in front, and she buried her face in his chest and sobbed with such force that his whole body shook. Her fingers were like claws, and Aunadar bent swiftly to murmur in her ear as his encircling arm went around her shoulders. "Lady mine, all is not lost. Whatever befalls this fair realm and your ever valiant father, my hand and heart are yours. I shall serve you with all I have, never failing nor leaving you in need-especially now, when your need is greatest. Now, as the wolves circle Cormyr, waiting and watching for your weakness. Be strong, Tanalasta, queen of my heart! Be strong, queen of the realm!"
His voice rose in passion, and Tanalasta raised bright, desperate eyes to him, tears racing down her cheeks, and reached up to him, murmuring his name through ragged sobs.
Had the king died? A woman sounded in real grief, just ahead. Dauneth almost thrust the hanging aside and strode out to offer what comfort he could, but the word "Queen" once and then again stopped him. The hanging suddenly seemed a friendly but all too flimsy shield. He'd wandered through more rooms than he could keep track of and hidden behind a lot of hangings to reach this place. Surely he must now be in the royal wing.
He looked down to be sure that he didn't stumble and make noise. The floor was bare and clear. They even dust behind the hangings here! he thought with amazement. Then a sudden, chilly addendum struck him: When was the last time they had dusted? And would they dust again soon?
But the voices came again, and he heard the name "Tanalasta." The crown princess! Turning to… a suitor, it seemed, for comfort. A gap in the hangings was just ahead, with aching care, Dauneth crept forward, keeping well back against the wall, and peered out.
A woman in a severe gown of the finest make knelt on a footstool with her head against the breast of a man whose arms were around her, his head bent over hers as he murmured comforting words. Dauneth knew him slightly, it was Aunadar, of the Bleth clan. All the talk he'd heard, then, was true. Above her head, Aunadar seemed almost to smile for a moment, and Dauneth looked hard at him.
No trace of the smile-if it had indeed been a smile and not a mere twitch of tired lips-came again, but the eyes of the man whose arms were around the princess were cold and somehow triumphant.
If I were deeply in love and feeling grief for my lover, would I look like that? Dauneth drew back, troubled, but not knowing what to say or do. His discovery, if anyone found him here, could very well mean his death. So he held still, hardly daring to breathe, and listened.
"If you weren't here, Aunadar, I don't know what I'd do…"
"Yet I am here, most royal lady, here… and your servant, forever, if you'll grant it so! Let me be the strong shield at your back, the faithful hound who walks at your side in the shadows… and together we shall win through to bright mornings ahead!"
Dauneth winced. Where did the man find such words? The best-perfumed chapbooks of Sembian love poems?
"Oh, Aunadar, I must go to him! He may be stronger, and if he should wake again, I must be there!"
"Come then, Lady Highness!" Aunadar said grandly, throwing wide a door.
"Oh, Aunadar!" The crown princess said in loving adoration.
"Tana!" he replied, in a voice deep with passion. "My Tana!"
"Yes," she breathed fervently, and they swept out shoulder to shoulder, fingers laced together.
Dauneth watched them go in thoughtful silence. There was definitely something amiss in this royal