Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [125]
The wyrm had burst upon the nobles with such sudden fury that many had been scorched to ash before they'd had time to do more than see their doom, and scream. The trees around them had burned like torches, and not a few had toppled, crushing those beneath them and showering everyone else with sparks. The forest had been their cloak and salvation, though, the crackling topfires hiding the terrified men in their smoke. The deeper, unburnt green depths gave them a vast lair to scatter in and hide.
It had taken a grim Steel Princess, sword drawn and so much soot caking her that more than one man thought her some sort of black-hided monster at first glance, to find and gather them. Sword drawn and only her eyes and teeth bright, she looked like something out of a horror-tale whispered to scare children. Her doffed helm had been lost in that first burst of dragonfire, its hiphook-straps burnt away as she twisted and rolled, and her shield was gone too-hurled down in half-melted, red-hot ruin after it had saved her from the direct stream of dragonfire that had been the wyrm's attempt to cook a princess.
A frown crept back onto Alusair's face as she came back to that thought, for perhaps the tenth time. The dragon had seemed to be looking for her…
Enough reflection. "This is the harshest test Cormyr has faced in centuries," Alusair said abruptly, looking around to meet the eyes of man after man, "and the lives of those you hold dear, whether they be within the walls of Suzail or in manors all over this realm, now depend on your swords. We are the realm's best… and now it's time to prove it. I'm going back to find that dragon, and hack it down. If I die, I'll go down knowing I did what I could for Cormyr and did not cower and hide, waiting for goblin blades to find me in the night. Whatever happens, I stood forth to defend the people of Cormyr."
She looked around, in a silence as sharp as a sword point. They were listening hard, their burning eyes on her, seeking hope. She gave it to them.
The Steel Princess calmly unbuckled her breastplate and swung it open. Her bodice beneath was a sweat-soaked mess of fresh bloodstains and shredded quilting, and fresh blood was glistening among the older, darker gore. More than one man murmured as he guessed at the wounds that must lie beneath, but Alusair unconcernedly thumped her breasts with a fist and announced matter-of-factly, "This still beats. As long as it does, I shall be hunting that dragon. So much is my duty."
She turned slowly, pointing at man after man with her drawn sword, and added softly, "As nobles of the realm, only you can determine your own duty. Your families have always been the backbone of the realm-because your mothers and fathers and grandsires knew their duty, and did it. You know your duty too. When I leave this place, I'll not look back to see who skulks away into the trees, and who strides with me. I won't have to, because I know who-and what-you are. You are the very best and the bright hope of Cormyr's future."
She smiled, slid her sword into the crook of her arm, and buckled up her breastplate again. "We just have a little task before us, that's all. We must ensure that Cormyr has a future."
There were some grim chuckles at that.
The Steel Princess looked up from her buckles with that wry, lopsided, come-hither grin that her men knew so well, and asked softly, "Are you with me, men of Cormyr?"
"Aye!" Kortyl Rowanmantle shouted. "Aye!"
"Aye!" three men said together, raising their swords. "For the Steel Princess!"
"For Alusair, and Cormyr!"
Alusair sprang down from the stump and raised her own blade. "Then follow me-but save your shouts for when our blades cut deep into the dragon. No war cries!"
She turned and sprang away,