Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [206]
Tanalasta's lips trembled for a moment as she struggled to find the words she wanted to say, but when she did speak, her voice was firm and high and clear.
"I am shocked, Aunadar Bleth, to learn that you love me only for my station and lineage and the power you can wield through me. Do you care so little for Tanalasta the woman?"
There was triumph in the young noble's eyes as he looked into hers and shrugged. "It matters little if I love you or you me," he said callously. "What matters is that the power of the Obarskyrs be dashed down, and the wheel of time move this land into brighter, fairer times that all citizens can agree with. The old Cormyr died with your father-its last king."
There was a gasp and stir that rose almost to a shriek as the figure that had skulked in the shadows of the doorway strode slowly and purposefully into the room. When the watching crowd saw the crown glittering on its head, their cries died into instant heavy silence.
"I find your presumptions a trifle premature, young Bleth," said a voice that everyone in the room knew, "and I order your surrender. Kneel to me, your true and rightful king, Azoun Obarskyr, a man who, despite your best efforts, is not dead just yet."
Aunadar Bleth turned white and swallowed. He looked quickly around the room, as if seeking ways to escape, and then drew himself up proudly, eyes blazing. "No. I am no lesser man than you. Why should I kneel to a man whose time is past and whose morals demean us all? Why should I kneel to a man who should be dead!"
"Why," the low voice from the lights at Bleth's shoulder purred, "should you kneel to a dead man?"
A coldly, darkly beautiful female face rose into view among the whirling radiances. It was a face Vangerdahast had seen before, the night before the fall of Arabel. From its eyes leapt two red, ravening beams of light.
The nobles standing with Gaspar Cormaeril screamed and ducked for cover as the magical beams cut through their ranks and stabbed at the king.
The rays burst into raging flames upon striking an unseen barrier. The eye beams clawed futilely at a barrier that shielded the grimly smiling Azoun and washed out along it, revealing the true dimensions of the barrier.
The barrier was anchored at three points. One point was the sorceress Cat, who held aloft a small white oval, a talisman of protective power. The other two points were in the hitherto empty minstrels' balcony, high above the king, where two people rose stiffly, holding similar talismans. One of the two in the balcony was a Harper with hair the color of honey and eyes like two dancing flames-Emthrara. The other was a bright-eyed, unshaven merchant dealer in turret tops and spires named Rhauligan.
Ripples of Brantarra's ruby-red radiance rushed across the barrier now, streaming toward the three ovals at its extremities, and then reflected back, like ripples in a small fountain, to its center. The flames meeting there flickered, pulsed, and burst forth as a great reaching tongue of fire, which roared back at the face in the light with frightening speed and fury
The Red Wizardess screamed. Her features vanished under the onslaught of her own returned magic, and sobbing howls of pain echoed off the vaulted ceiling of the hall for a moment before the lights winked, flashed bright again-and the agonized face was gone.
In its place stood something gleaming and golden, something that stood like an upright, motionless bull.
"The abraxus!" a dozen voices exclaimed in horrified unison. Aunadar Bleth smiled tightly and said, "Thank you, wizardess, for restoring my clockwork toy. It needs a human soul to power its magical engine, and my lady Brantarra has thought even of that!" He placed