Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [75]
The queen's smiled broadened, and she asked, "Yet I suppose I look as dumpy and shrewish as ever?"
The Royal Magician bowed. "Your Majesty is as quick and as wise as ever."
Filfaeril laughed, looking briefly like a much younger woman, and held out her arms. "Change me, then. I've a feeling I'm going to enjoy this!" Then she frowned. "Are there servants, or is Flammos going to grow very sick of partridge, hocks, onions, and mushroom stew? They're the only things I could ever make really well."
Both men snorted in amusement and said more or less in unison, "There are servants, great lady."
Flammos scratched himself and added, "But, O queen of my heart, you could tell them how to make your stew as often as you like. They might never get it just right, you know."
Unexpectedly she giggled. "Change me, Vangey," she said almost pleadingly.
"You'll lose something of your height and grace," the wizard warned, "and almost all of your great beauty."
"Understood," she said firmly. "Must I wait longer? Change me and let us go, before I start to want this and that from my chambers and my resolve starts to go…"
Vangerdahast touched her hand, her foot, her breast, and her forehead, stepped back, and carefully cast a long and rather involved spell. There was a brief flicker of light, and the Dragon Queen was gone.
A shorter, almost mannish woman with a pot belly, bodice to match, and large, pimpled chin glared at him from where the queen stood. "Well?" she rasped. "Is it a good idea to ask you for a mirror?"
Vangerdahast shook his head. The queen nodded ruefully, took a few experimental steps, wiggled her hips as she looked down to watch her heavy midsection sway, and stamped her feet. "Right," she announced gruffly. "I'm ready."
She ran an exploratory hand over her chin as Flammos stumped up to take her arm, and said, "Hmm… tell me, husband mine, do I need a shave as badly as I think I do?"
Both men hooted with laughter, and Vangerdahast reached to take her hand and kiss it. "You're itching to be the terror of the young men of Waterdeep, I see," he said, "so I'll bid you farewell for now, and-"
Aglarra Galdekund snatched her hand away from him, growled fiercely, "Well!" and then seized his ears firmly with both hands, dragged the wizard's face down to where she could kiss it firmly on the lips. After she had done so, she said, eyes inches from his, "Guard the realm for us, lord wizard, as our thoughts guard you. Guard it and keep it safe for us all."
"Lady," Vangerdahast replied, feeling suddenly humble again, "I shall." He stepped back, murmured, "Keep still now," waved to them both, and cast the spell.
A glow grew about the Galdekunds as they stood there on the warm dragonhide before the fire. The glow blazed with sudden brilliance, then faded-and when it was gone, they were gone, too.
The Royal Magician shook his head wearily and went to the nearest chair, sinking down into it thankfully to discover that Filfaeril had left behind a dainty little glass and her silver-mounted bodice flask on the table beside it. He picked it up, finding it still warm from her body, and brought it to his nose to smell… yes, the last faint wisps of her perfume. He smiled and opened it. Gods, but he was tired.
Spiced wine-Tethyrian tanagluth, his favorite!
"Thank you, great lady," he murmured, pouring the ruby-hued liquid into the tiny glass with slow, deliberate care.
Raising it to his lips, Vangerdahast sipped gently at the welcome fire and thought about the days ahead. Azoun had been-nay, at this moment still was-a great king… perhaps too great. Even in the crusade there had been little thought he would ever die. Very few plans had been made… plans that should have been made.
The glass had somehow become empty. Vangerdahast reached for the flask again. Had there ever been a change of power so precipitous