The Dragon's Doom - Ed Greenwood [192]
She lifted both eyebrows, together. "Does that take care of your first flood of foolish questions, and buy me time enough to speak of what exactly befell you this night, Flaeros?"
"Uh, ah," the king asked awkwardly, "just one asking: Are there many Wise? Have you seen any in Aglirta, since your arrival?"
Orele regarded him severely. "Are there many skilled singers in your kingdom, Majesty? Can you tell who they are at a glance?"
She let silence fall, and after it had stretched long enough for a tightly grinning Hulgor to steer a glass into every hand but the king's, Raulin said, "Oh. I see. Yes, of course. My apologies, Lady-say on about Flaeros." Then he cocked his head and added, "Any chance of seeing you dance? Later, I mean?"
The old woman sipped her wine, shook her head, and told the glass severely, "Men. Kings little better than the rest, I see. It'll be dawn before we're done, so find something to wet your royal throat, Raulin. Hulgor's tried a bit of everything already, so if he doesn't fall over in the next few breaths, 'tis all safe."
The old noble chuckled. "Ye can see out of the back of your head, Swee-hem, Natha."
"Trick of the Wise," the old lady said darkly, and then drained her glass in a swig like a man in a hurry to leave a tavern, handed it to the astonished king, and clapped her hands lightly together. "Enough empty tongue-wagging! You dreamt of fire, Flaeros, and came awake shouting. This is not unusual, and probably happened to scores of folk the world over this night-most of them in the Vale."
"Lady," King Castlecloaks said politely, "I believe you've now established that you are eloquent, learned, and can be very mysterious. Can you also speak plainly, and Reveal All?"
Lady Orele grinned at him. Surprisingly, she still had all of her teeth. "The Wise never Reveal All, Majesty; you know that. Or should. Let's test your learning: What know you of the Arrada?"
Raulin Castlecloaks sighed. "Beyond the fact that it's a grand name for all the magic of Darsar, which is the gathered lore of our ways of harnessing the energies of all that lives, nothing at all."
The old woman sat back, regarding him with new respect. "Well said, Majesty-very well said. I'd say you have learning enough. The son of a bard, you-and a bard yourself, Lord Flaeros, so you know this too, hmm?"
"I do," Flaeros agreed. "Like Raul-the King, I know very little more than what the Arrada is-and that it flows in cycles."
"Ah!" Orele said, leaning forward again. "Hulgor," she said, "get this King a drink."
Hulgor and Raulin both blinked at her. Ignoring them, she said serenely, "Two creatures manifest at either end of the flows of the Arrada: the Serpent and the Dragon. Now tell me, which one is associated with fire?"
Flaeros stared at the old woman as if she'd suddenly grown three serpent-heads, with a golden crown gleaming on each one. "The Dragon," he whispered.
Orele nodded and raised her glass. King Raulin and the bard both stared at it. Though they'd both seen her drain it to the dregs but a few moments ago, and she'd sent Hulgor away to fill another glass for the king, the old woman's glass was brimful once more.
She smiled at them over it. "Whenever there's a Serpent-The Serpent, called by those who worship it the Great Serpent, and usually a human wizard twisted to evil-there must also be a Dragon. When one arises, there comes the other. In the words of the bard Tanathavur-you should know this, Lord Flaeros-'I burned in the night of fire, at the awakening of the Dragon.' You do know what became of Tanathavur, don't you?"
"He became the Dragon," Flaeros murmured, wide-eyed, "and was slain in the skies above the Silverflow by the wizard Garaunt, who rode the Winged Serpent!"
Hulgor thrust a glass into the king's