Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [196]
Vangerdahast, smiling faintly, said, "Two daggers at his belt and one in his left boot."
Deft fingers plucked out the indicated weapons and tossed them away. They landed with steely slidings atop the discarded blade, and Giogi Wyvernspur said pleasantly to his prisoner, "Come and sit down. Cat'll-oh, have you met my wife, Lady Cat Wyvernspur? Sorry, should've introduced you straightaway-Cat'll be most upset if Vangey has to fry you with some spell or other. Tends to ruin the furniture and leave nasty stains and whatnot."
"Unhand me!" Dauneth snarled, struggling to get his breath. He drove a vicious elbow backward, but it seemed to strike some sort of tingling barrier.
"Ah, ah," Giogi reproved him. "Play nice."
"Wizard!" Dauneth roared, ignoring his captor and trembling with a rage that suddenly threatened to consume him, "You have betrayed your king, the crown, and Cormyr! You have brought the realm to the brink of war!"
The Royal Magician raised his eyebrows. "There is a fire in our young nobles that I sometimes wish could be kept alive as they grow older-and much wiser. Still, I'm pleased to see that you can distinguish between the differing calls of monarch, rulership, and realm. Very few of your fellow bluebloods can. I assure you, Dauneth Marliir-son of a family which has demonstrated expertise in determining loyalties, to be sure-that I am acting for the betterment of all three."
"Spare me your lies," Dauneth spat as Giogi sat him down in a chair, smiled like the gracious host he was, and wordlessly offered Dauneth a glass of wine.
The young noble struck it sharply upward, so that its contents splashed into Giogi's face. He then launched himself across the room, tearing out the dagger from its sheath in his sleeve, a dagger that Vangerdahast did not know of.
Lady Wyvernspur rose, lifting her hands and starting to mutter words, but Dauneth had already looped one long arm around the Royal Magician of Cormyr and brought his dagger to the old man's throat.
It struck some sort of barrier, and fire blazed from it. Dauneth ignored the sudden heat and pressed it in harder.
"Desist, young Marliir. I have no interest in slaying a loyal son of Cormyr."
The pain was excruciating now. Dauneth leaned into it with all the strength in his shoulders and snarled, "If such a great threat to the realm I love is destroyed, the loss of my own life will be worthwhile and gladly given!"
"Gods, I wish I heard such heartfelt words from more men of Cormyr!" said an admiring voice from somewhere off to the left. Dauneth raised his eyes from watching his dagger tip turn slowly red, inches from the wizard's hairy, scrawny old throat, and saw a single, shadowy form standing in an inner doorway. The watcher took a step forward and smiled, and as the lamplight fell across his face, Dauneth gasped and dropped his dagger. His hands slowly fell away from the wizard, who rubbed his nose, shook himself, and went straight to the wine bottle on the side table where Giogi-who was wiping at a nose that still dripped wine-had left it.
"You're getting old, Vangey," the man at the doorway said gravely.
"Old and forgetful," Vangerdahast replied, raising the bottle and not bothering with a glass. "Perhaps I should start considering my own replacement, eh?"
Dauneth was staring at the man by the door. When he could finally speak, he asked, "But-but-if you're here, then what's going on at the court? Who's trying to rule Cormyr?"
"A lot of folk, lad," the Royal Magician said with a smile. "A lot of folk. The reasons lie in the past, but to see the unfolding of their fruit, we must adjourn to the palace. Bring your sword. By now they'll all be waiting for us there."
Chapter 32: Gondegal
The Year of the Dragon
(1352 DR)
The watch fires burned in a rough crescent along the hilltops south of Arabel. Each fire marked a thousand men, Purple Dragons, local militiamen, adventuring