Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [32]
"You are also an emblem of Cormyr," Filfaeril reminded her. "If the people think we are fleeing, they will lose hope."
"Then you may stay to reassure them, Mother," Tanalasta said. "But I will do what I think best for Cormyr."
Korvarr's count reached ninety, and Sarmon the Spectacular stepped up and offered them his arms. Tanalasta slipped her hand through the crook of the wizard's elbow, then cocked a querying eyebrow at her mother.
"I am coming," Filfaeril sighed. "For me to appear braver than you would undercut your station-and I am done costing you prestige."
"One hundred," Korvarr announced.
Sarmon uttered his spell, and Tanalasta's stomach rose into her chest. There was that timeless interval of numb, colorless falling in which she knew only the wizard's fingers around her wrist and the roar of silence in her ears. Now she was somewhere else, standing in a different courtyard, attempting to blink away the teleport after-daze and recall where she was.
The dull clamor of clanging iron rang off the bailey walls, and the air reeked of battle gore. The stones beneath her feet reverberated to the erratic thud of tramping feet and falling bodies, and there were armored men and black shapes flashing past in every direction. Sarmon had teleported them into a battle, and for the life of her, the princess could not recall why.
A dark silhouette whirled back toward her, and Tanalasta glimpsed an eerily familiar shape streaking toward her on black wings. The thing had gangling arms and hands with ebony talons, a skeletal torso with naked female breasts, coarse black hair that framed smoldering scarlet eyes.
"Ambush!" cried Korvarr Rallyhorn.
The lionar's armored body struck Tanalasta sidelong, slamming her into Sarmon and Filfaeril and driving all three to the ground. Suddenly, Tanalasta recalled where they were supposed to be. They were supposed to be in the inner bailey of the Suzail Palace, but Sarmon seemed to have bungled his spell and teleported them into one of the terrible battles raging in the north.
A loud clunk sounded above Tanalasta as the ghazneth's talons struck Korvarr's armor and tore him off her. Trying to fathom how the lionar's escort had bungled a teleport spell in exactly the same way as Sarmon the Spectacular, the princess rolled off the pile. She pulled the wizard off her mother and shoved him toward Korvarr.
"Help the lionar!" she ordered.
Even as the ghazneth dragged Korvarr bouncing and skipping across the cobblestone pavement, the lionar somehow managed to pull his iron sword and start hacking at the creature.
"And Sarmon-try not to bungle your spell this time," Tanalasta added, not bothering to conceal her anger at the wizard's incredible mistake.
Brow rising at her sharp tone, Sarmon pulled something from his weathercloak and tossed it in the lionar's direction. As he started his incantation, a familiar drone rose behind Tanalasta. She spun around to find herself looking through a swirling fog of wasps and flies at the looming spires of the Dragon Keep, which stood well inside Suzail Palace.
As Tanalasta struggled to digest the fact that they had teleported on destination, the lanky figure of Xanthon Cormaeril emerged from the droning haze and started to fight his way through the royal bodyguards. He was carrying a ten-foot halberd in each hand, leaping and spinning and whirling the ungainly polearms like a pair of windmills. The dragoneers countered bravely, charging in behind their purple bucklers to hack at his legs or thrust iron-headed spears at his heart, but they were no match for the ghazneth's speed. He batted their attacks aside one after the other and continued toward the crown princess.
Filfaeril grasped Tanalasta's arm and pulled her in the opposite