Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [95]
Queen Filfaeril remained silent, apparently considering her daughter's appeal. A soft murmur rose around the table as the few nobles familiar enough with The Rule of Law to know the passage she cited explained it to those who did not. A lot of faces paled, and the unarmed lords began to cast uneasy glances at the dragoneers standing behind their benches. The loyal lords-Ildamoar Hardcastle, Hector Dauntinghorn, Roland Emmarask, and a handful of others-appeared more astonished than frightened. Only Orvendel Rallyhorn's reaction did not make sense. Though he was practically touching Lord Goldsword, who remained off-balance with Korvarr's dagger to his throat, Orvendel did not look astonished or frightened or even alarmed. He looked frustrated-frustrated and worried.
After giving the lords a few moments to appreciate their dilemma, Queen Filfaeril turned from Tanalasta. Her gaze lingered on Orvendel an instant and flashed icy hatred before continuing on to Lord Goldsword, and the princess knew that her mother's surprises for the day were far from done. The queen had insisted on young Rallyhorn's presence for a reason. Tanalasta had the sinking feeling she knew what it was-and this time, she would not be able to beg the crown's mercy.
The queen let her gaze rest on Emlar until the room grew quiet again, then asked, "What say you, Lord Goldsword? Do you apologize?"
Emlar nodded. "Aye, I apologize for doubting you but not for speaking against the princess. I hold the Sembians to be Cormyr's best hope now more than ever, and I'll not apologize for that."
"And I would not ask you to," said the queen. "Obviously, the crown finds your opinion mistaken, but at least it is honest and takes into account Cormyr's interests as much as your own. We are not in the habit of executing people for bad opinions and honest mistakes."
Filfaeril motioned to Korvarr, who pulled his dagger away from Emlar's throat and gently lowered him to his seat. The color returned to the lord's face and to the faces of his supporters. Tanalasta knew that in a few moments of terror, her mother had won the cooperation she had been struggling to earn for months.
Emlar knew it as well. "Her majesty is most forbearing." He inclined his head to the queen, then tried to salvage at least the appearance of compromise by adding, "The Goldsword house shall abide by the decision of this council."
Filfaeril ignored him and turned to glare at Melot Silversword. "What the crown cannot abide are self-serving intriguers who straddle the wall until they see on which side the most profit will lie for their house. Such nothingarians cause harm enough when the realm is at peace, but during Time of War, they are tantamount to spies."
Melot straightened himself in his chair. "Majesty, I hardly think such a comparison warranted. It is no fairer to blame a man for his caution than-"
"I would not press the matter, Lord Silversword," said Tanalasta. "You are still alive-and may even have a reasonable chance of staying that way."
"Provided he abides by the decrees of this council," agreed Filfaeril. "Now, there is one other matter I wish to dispose of."
"If it pleases the queen, I would rather handle that myself." The princess caught her mother's eye and glanced quickly in Orvendel's direction, then grimaced inwardly when the queen gave an icy nod. The chain of betrayal flashed before Tanalasta's eyes. Orvendel drawing the information out of his older brother, then passing it to the ghazneths-but why? That was a question the boy would answer before he died. Trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, she turned to Orvendel and said, "Young Lord Rallyhorn, you and I will speak after the council."
A nervous expression came over Orvendel, but it was nothing compared to the shock on Korvarr's