Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [80]
The wizard was apparently deaf to the sounds of battle. "Then we'd best start as soon as possible, shouldn't we?" He reached out a skeletal hand to the young noble.
Sagrast reached out, but before grasping the extended hand, he asked, "Why did you have me meet you here? With all your resources and power-"
"I could have met with you anywhere," finished the mage. "But if I had to kill a traitor, I thought I might as well burn down an ugly eyesore of a building in the process."
Sagrast's eyes widened a split instant before their hands touched-and blinding light exploded around them.
* * * * *
When the light faded, they were standing on the front steps of the keep. Sagrast felt as if his internal organs were still back in the upper room of the Ram and Duck. His insides felt weak and swimming, only after he felt the blood return to his stomach and heart did he notice that there was an uproar around them.
Courtiers and bureaucrats were streaming in and out of the building, some shouting orders, some clutching scrolls and account books. The king's guards were at the base of the stairs, arrayed for combat in their red-leather jerkins and carrying long metal-shod pikes. They were facing outward toward the city below.
The wizard snaked out a hand and reeled in a passing page, one of the young Truesilvers. "What is going on?"
The Truesilver began to curse but swallowed the profanity when he saw who had him by the collar. "Gantharla is back," he gasped.
Sagrast Dracohorn shook his head, frowning. "She was supposed to still be in the Western Marches."
The Truesilver boy nodded. "She was, but the king sent her a message relieving her of command and summoning her here. She came, but she brought her loyal foresters with her! They're in the city now, and she went inside with His Highness." The boy jerked his head at the Keep, and then gulped and added, "I hear that His Highness was wearing armor and everything when she went in."
Baerauble dropped the boy and took the steps two at a time, Sagrast following in his wake.
"Of all the times to finally make a royal decision," muttered the mage, and Sagrast saw that this was as much a surprise to Baerauble as anyone else. He also realized what the shouts were that he'd heard in the city- Gantharla's foresters. But had they been cheers or shouts of fury and anger?
Most of the courtiers were emptying their offices and adding to the panic. They were obviously convinced that Gantharla's loyal foresters would lay siege to the keep at any moment. Fortunately, their quarters were in the outer ring of the keep, and once the mage and noble had waded through the frantically scurrying throng, they encountered little resistance. Deeper within the keep was the Great Hall, and beyond that a small antechamber leading into the official throne room. That would be where Iltharl would meet Gantharla.
The entrance to the antechamber of the throne room was guarded by four of Iltharl's best soldiers. Solid men in red leather jerkins as tall and as broad as some doorways, they stood grim and watchful, with heavy swords in their hands, determined to prevent anyone from passing.
The wizard strode toward them without slowing. The soldiers made a halfhearted attempt to block Baerauble's path, but the wizard ignored them as if they were smoke until a blade actually menaced him. Then he looked straight into the eyes of its owner, and a careful look was exchanged. The man lowered his head, muttered something apologetic, and stepped back. The mage looked at the next guard, and then strode through the gap they'd left him, Sagrast drifting along at his heels. Behind the two, the guards closed ranks again, determined to prevent anyone else from passing.
The smooth flagstones of the antechamber thundered under Sagrast's heavy boots. Baerauble glided soundlessly to the great double doors leading to the throne room itself. He pulled at a door handle, but it did not budge. The wizard said something that at first Sagrast thought was a spell but then realized was an