The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [196]
Darkness swept in, the white light dwindling… somehow Beldar pushed away oblivion and took a step.
The room tilted and swayed. He took another cautious step. Glass crunched underfoot as he felt his way to the doorway.
Tears were glimmering in his remaining eye, but he could- just-see. There was no waiting sorcerer or priest, just a deserted, sagging gallery.
A deep-voiced shout called for more stone. Beldar turned back to the window, wistfully eyeing the Statue. He'd been too quick to destroy the beholder eye-and with it, his connection to the Walking Statues. Another load of stone, just one, might make a vital difference.
To his astonishment, the great construct stooped, gathered up rubble, and lowered it to the waiting dwarves. The Statue still obeyed his unspoken commands!
Too numb and pain-wracked to ponder this mystery, Beldar hefted his sword and staggered out into what was left of the Purple Silks.
If he survived this, he'd have to ask Taeros why ballads never mentioned how tired heroes got or how their victory battles seemed to never end.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The winecellar seemed endless. Beldar picked his way over bodies and more bodies, seeking his foes.
Two halflings faced him, weapons drawn. Beyond them a lantern flickered on the floor, shining on glimmering blue cloth, and showing him two faces he knew: the Dyre sisters.
Blue gemweave…
"Korvaun!" Beldar shouted. Crossed swords barred his way.
"Let him through," ordered Naoni.
Beldar went to his knees beside his oldest friend. It took only a glance to know that Korvaun Helmfast was dying.
The blue eyes gazing up at him were serene and clear. Korvaun smiled. "You're free. Your own man again."
Beldar touched his ruined face. "Such as I am."
"You must lead," his friend said faintly, "and not just the Gemcloaks." A spasm racked him, and he fell still.
Beldar looked helplessly at Naoni and Faendra Dyre. They gazed back, mute queries in their eyes. They were looking to him for guidance! Despite all he'd done and become…
Korvaun whispered abruptly, "I swore to carry this secret to my death. Lady Asper will not mind, perhaps, if I'm… somewhat previous."
His eyes moved to Naoni. She swiftly undid the fastenings of his tunic. Beneath was a metal vest-not chainmail, but a metal fabric as light and soft as silk. Faendra moved to help, and the sisters eased both garments off him.
Their gentle handling left Korvaun parchment-white, his face a mask of sweat. "Tell him," he whispered.
Naoni quickly told Beldar about the slipshield, what it could do, and how she'd spun it into a new, undetectable form.
"As long as you live," Korvaun added hoarsely, "those who gave you the eye will seek you, to slay or enslave. Hold this secret, and use it well."
Naoni held up the vest.
Beldar finally realized what his friend was asking of him.
Korvaun wanted Beldar to take his place, to take up the mantle of leadership once more.
"They'll think you dead," Naoni whispered tremulously, through tears, "and leave you in peace. It will be hard for you, and harder for your family, yet it's… needful."
Beldar's thoughts whirled. His monstrous eye might be ruined, but its other magic still held. He could-in secret-join the ranks of Waterdeep's protectors.
'Twasn't the glorious, sword-swinging heroism he'd dreamed of, but… needful, yes. More than that, it was what the Dathran had foretold. He'd be the hero who defied death. He would become Korvaun Helmfast, who would live on in him.
Because he could not do otherwise, Beldar inclined his head in agreement.
"One thing more," Korvaun gasped, his voice barely audible now. "I pledged that no shame would come to Naoni while I lived. She has my heart, my ring, and my promise. My dearest wish was to give her my name! If she bears my child…"
"He'll be raised a Helmfast," Beldar swore, "and in time will be told the truth about his father."
Korvaun managed a smile. "Naoni…"
"Hush now," she told him gently, kissing his forehead. "You've done all that's needful, and done it