Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [160]
"Every one dead is one less guard to chase us, Tass-men I've itched to strike down for years, and dared not for fear of magelords' seeking magic. And here they are chopping and hacking at each other-they've no one to blame for their deaths but themselves. Let me enjoy it, will you?"
Braer smiled thinly but kept silence. The tall elf felt much the same way, though he didn't like to admit it even to himself. Whatever befell hereafter, they'd got in a few good sword thrusts right through the might of the magelords this night. Nay… this day, by now…
Braer looked up out the great window into the gray sky of breaking dawn-and stiffened. A warning spell he'd set three days ago had just been triggered, sending its cry into his mind. He stepped back in haste; as his battle comrades turned startled faces his way, he waved at them to keep away from him.
"My own battle begins, I fear," he murmured, and started to grow taller, his body darkening swiftly. Wings sprouted and spread, scales shone silver in the flickering torchlight, and a dragon shifted its bulk experimentally for a breath before bounding up through the window. Glass and timber flew in all directions, and a long tail switched once as it slid out of the room.
Tassabra stared openmouthed as those great wings beat once, and the dragon that had been Braer surged up into the sky out of their sight. She turned her head a little to catch the last possible glimpse of him, and then her eyes rolled up in her head, she gave a little sigh, and toppled sideways.
Farl gathered her against him with one long arm. "She never used to do this," he complained to no one in particular. One of the elves-Delsaran was his name, Farl thought-leaned over and stroked her hair tenderly, just once.
*****
Undarl Dragonrider's face was set in anger as Anglathammaroth flew swift and strong across the realm, heading for Athalgard. Something was seriously amiss. Magelords fighting magelords, a rebel mob inside the castle… didn't those fools know hated rulers will be attacked by commoners the moment they show weakness? This is what comes of letting ambitious magelings do as they pleased… If it hadn't been for Ithboltar, Undarl could have kept them all in a tight harness!
The mage royal snarled in frustration as the great black dragon dived down over Hastarl, and then gaped in utter astonishment as the breaking dawn showed him a dragon rising to meet them!
A silver dragon… Undarl's eyes narrowed. This must be some trick set by a magelord who knew the mage royal would come to the city on dragonback… a trap to intercept him. Undarl smiled tightly and cast the strongest spell he carried. Spheres of black, chilling deathflame rolled out from his out-flung hands, expanding as they rolled through the air.
The silver dragon sheared away to one side, and Undarl's death flames vanished. The mage royal stared at the empty air in disbelief, and then snatched out one of his wands and fired it. A green bolt of ravening radiance tore along the silver wyrm's side. It shuddered and circled away. With a short laugh of satisfaction, Undarl urged his own dragon after it.
*****
"By all the gods!" a carter swore. Folk around him followed his incredulous gaze, and there was more than one shriek of terror. One man fell to his knees on the cobbles and began babbling a prayer; many others decided to pray on the run, sprinting away down the street-away from the battle raging in the air overhead as two mighty dragons circled and roared in the first bright rays of morning.
Magic flashed, and the carter snarled a bitter oath. Of course one of the two would be the mage royal, not caring if death rained down on the citizens below-but who was the other? A silver wyrm, now! The carter peered up into the sunlight, seeing the black dragon breathe out acid in a curling cloud. That would fall as a stinging rain on… the docks, he judged, and wondered if he should be elsewhere, somewhere safer.
But where? There was no place that the two battling wyrms might not