Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [47]
There came a stirring among the men standing around, a muttering without words, but Azoun never looked up from the laboring lips. The ranger coughed weakly and went on. "The situation is… not good. Sembian interests seek a breach in our armor, many factions at court rise like restless lions to renew old plots, dismissing the war in the north as a ploy of the crown to empty their coffers and keep their sons as royal hostages… and the old whispers of rebellion-Arabel and Marsember, hidden royal blood heirs, and all-are heard again in the passages of the palace and the back rooms of the taverns. The Wyvernspurs fear the Obarskyr hold on the Dragon Throne will be lost-and Cormyr itself split over warring noble ambitions-despite the real foes that threaten the realm here. All it will take, Cat says, if I may be so bold, sire, is one blade through the wrong hotheaded noble's guts, and the bloodshed will begin. You are needed, Majesty, and better you come surrounded by loyal and ready knights, in strength, to slay any thoughts of daggers in royal backs or ceilings spell-sent down onto crowned heads."
The king nodded, allowing the wry ghost of a smile to touch his lips. "I can tell there's more, yet. Speak."
The ranger let out a deep and unhappy sigh, then said in a rush, "Princess Tanalasta looks unwell and-not content, yet she seems determined to personally destroy the ghazneths. The more they're seen, the more she rushes to cross blades with them."
He and Azoun stared into each other's eyes for a long, shared breath, both of them keeping their faces carefully expressionless, before the ranger added quietly, "I, too, have a daughter left alone in this, sire. The Wyvernspurs are not the only ones who fear that Cormyr may soon lose its heir."
"So it would be best," Azoun murmured, "if I reached the ghazneths before the princess does." Another smile twisted his lips before he added, "And even better if I had some sort of plan in mind for defeating them when we do meet."
"Majesty," Randaeron agreed carefully, "it would."
Azoun nodded. "You've done well. Stay in the field with the Princess Alusair, I charge you, as I take the men we can best spare here and head south in haste to hold my kingdom." He strode away, murmuring, "And if the gods really smile upon me, perhaps I'll even win myself a little rest. Old lions, however stupid, deserve to lie down once in awhile."
Randaeron knew he wasn't supposed to officially hear that last royal remark, so he let his eyes close and kept silent. Silence is often the best court policy.
14
The echo of a distant splash rolled down the river behind Vangerdahast and faded into nothingness. The wizard turned and looked toward the sound. The water was as black as the foul air, and the air was as black as the contorted walls, and the walls were as black as a chimney flue-save that instead of soot, they were covered in some black scum that seemed half moss and half stone. Circles of the stuff floated on the water just a few inches beneath Vangerdahast's chin, stinking of must and mildew and some ancient filth he did not dare consider, given that he was in a tunnel just one level beneath the city of the Grodd.
The cavern remained ominously quiet, but at the last bend behind Vangerdahast, the scum circles were rising and falling ever so slightly on the river surface. The wizard looked at the tiny crow leg hovering above his palm, which he was holding above the water more or less at eye level, and saw that it was still pointing forward. The ghazneth remained somewhere ahead-so what was behind?
Visions of albino sharks and cave-dwelling anacondas began to fill his head, but Vangerdahast dismissed these fears as unfounded nonsense. Such creatures needed a steady diet, and the goblins-the only substantial food source he had found in these caverns-had repopulated their city only recently. It seemed more