The Dragon's Doom - Ed Greenwood [181]
Dressers were swarming around Hulgor Delcamper, and his face was still creased with pain, but he managed a nod, a smile, and the words, " 'Tis indeed."
Embra nodded, and turned to her three companions. "Then, Overdukes, we've an unfinished task and a Stone to accomplish it with." She drew off her boots, thrust them through her sash, and stroked her bare feet across the marble floor, nodding as she felt the old Living Castle enchantments stirring. Then she held up the Dwaer. "Let's try again to trace the Dwaer my father holds."
Hawkril promptly turned to the page and growled, "Proper garments for the Lady Silvertree, here in haste!"
"A moment," the Lady Talasorn added, as the lad rose out of a florid bow to race for the doors. "Bring also, from the chambers I share with the Lord Craer, the belt with three pouches on it. Open none of them, mind, unless painful death beckons you strongly this morn."
The page nodded and ran out. Several courtiers tried to crowd in as the door opened, but the guards were watching the king and Hawkril for signals, and received the same gesture from both. Accordingly, they swept the room clear again and closed the doors, despite shrill protests.
Silence fell in the Sunchamber, and the Four became aware that they had an interested audience. Embra was already trembling in near trance, calling on the Flowfoam enchantments and the Dwaer whilst trying not to "hear" either, but the other overdukes gazed at everyone crowded into the room until Craer waved a dismissive hand and said, "Now, now, there's not really going to be much to see. This is real magic, not-"
"Craer," Tshamarra warned silkily, and the procurer shut his mouth softly, without saying another word. The guards goggled at him as if the Three themselves had appeared in glowing splendor to work a miracle before their very eyes… because, of course, that was more or less what had happened.
At which point Embra opened her eyes again and murmured, "I've found Overduke Blackgult and that Dwaer-in the Silent House."
The other overdukes looked at her, and Hawkril rumbled, "I find myself unsurprised."
Embra nodded and sighed. "Somehow I knew we'd end up back there before long."
Craer shrugged. "We should fix it up and make it our palace."
She wrinkled her nose. "Haven't you forgotten that it drives Silvertrees mad?"
Craer grinned at her. "It's already done its worst to you, I'd say."
They stuck out their tongues at each other in unison.
The Sunchamber doors crashed open. The Four whirled around, the guards swung down their glaives… and relaxed again as the red-faced, panting page and two chambermaids came trotting across the room, bearing clothes.
Embra unconcernedly undid her sash, letting her boots fall, and tossed her robe to the floor. The page stared, swallowed, and then twisted around as he skidded to a stop in front of her, so that she beheld his back, and he was facing the chambermaid who held a heap of lacy and frilly things. The page tentatively dug into them with trembling hands, mumbling, "Wasn't sure… just which…"
The Lady Silvertree patted his shoulder and then bent past him, brushing against him very distractingly. "None of these," she said, brushing aside most of the diaphanous silk. "These are for Lord Hawkril's entertainment, not rough travel."
The armaragor rumbled wordless embarrassment behind her as Embra plucked up a scrap of silk and then a pair of leather breeches, placing the former as a breechclout and sliding the latter on over them. She selected a plain cotton shirt, a broad cummerbund belt of stiff leather, and then a leather warrior's jack, good boots, gloves, and a half-cloak. "My thanks.