Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [126]
"You might as well kill me," Joysil panted, from where she lay bruised and winded on the floor. "Unless you renounce this plan of yours-and I can somehow believe you-I'll just keep trying to slay you. No dragon in all Faerun is safe once those spells of yours work and are written down."
Vangerdahast nodded, and green radiance flowed from his fingers. In a room far away across the sanctum, two wands flickered and flashed. "I fear you'll now discover that you can't move, Lady Cyndusk-or Ambrur, if you prefer. I'd rather not be slain, thank you very much… and yet there's truth in what you say. These spells shall be my legacy to Cormyr. Others must be able to cast them after I am gone to augment the ranks of defenders or replace those fallen in battle. Some wizards may well use them less… judiciously than I shall. So, yes, I am a danger to dragonkind."
He sighed. "I've spent my life wrestling down my own desires-and dreams, and sympathies-to cleave always to one guiding and supreme pursuit: the betterment and defense of Cormyr. I will do anything to keep this realm strong-and its character much as it is now and has always been. I believe it to be among the best achievements of my kind, dragon, and want to keep it so… whatever the cost to anyone."
He went to a drawer, pulled forth a clean tablecloth, and laid it carefully over Joysil's frozen form. "I've no robes your size, but if you don't mind some of my winter weathercloaks… the moths always get at them, but…"
"Wizard"the helpless song dragon on the floor hissed, "you promote the worst sort of slavery for dragons. Even if you find some willing slaves to be your guards, these spells will get out, and there'll come a day when the only wyrms not under the command of someone will be those who die fighting after your other spells find them, lure them, and hook them!"
Vangerdahast nodded a little sadly. "I had foreseen this consequence, yes. Have you any bright solutions for me that I've thus far missed?"
"You-you monster!" Joysil stormed, trembling against the paralyzing magics that held her. "Youuu-"
She tried to turn her head away as he bent near, and when she found she could not, she shut her eyes and screamed-a cry that soon faded, warbled, and died away.
"Sleep," the old wizard told her gently. "If Mystra smiles on me for once, I'll have thought of something before I have to wake you."
He turned away with a sigh and added bitterly, "Or more likely not."
Myrmeen Lhal regarded him gravely. Her sword was sheathed, and there was a strange look in her eyes, a different strange look than before. "You could have slain her-easily-and did not. Why so?"
Vangerdahast regarded her a little sourly. "I've seen too many problems in life to enjoy disposing of them by working murder any longer, lass. I need some time to decide what best to do to calm and heal her."
The Lady Lord of Arabel nodded, folded her arms across her chest, and said, "Yet the ruthless defender of the realm might say the best thing for Cormyr would be to eliminate this dragon now-mercifully, while she sleeps, helpless. One less foe, one danger gone, the realm thus that small measure stronger."
"This is not the Devil Dragon," the former Royal Magician sighed, "and truth to tell, lass, I've seen and done more than enough killing."
He shook out another tablecloth, spread it on the floor, and did something that made the green radiance brighten all around them and raise Joysil's rigid body into the air. Unseen forces lifted the tablecloth up to her from beneath. Thus sandwiched in cloth, the body floated toward the kitchen door.
"I believe," Vangerdahast added as he started after it, "I've finally grown up enough to hold the view that folk whose views differ from mine are not necessarily foes I should slay."
There was clear respect in Myrmeen's eyes as she looked at him, smiled, and suddenly reached out to take his arm.
He patted her hand with his own, suddenly conscious of her hip brushing against his, and looked back at her. As their eyes met, Vangerdahast felt-with no