The Dragon's Doom - Ed Greenwood [193]
All three men stared at each other as Orele sighed, "An astonishing display of greed, Hulgor. 'Twas always your besetting fault."
"Does that mean…" Flaeros whispered, his voice dwindling into a squeak. He tried again. "Does that mean I'll become the Dragon?"
"Not necessarily," the old woman with the cane told him, drinking deeply-and setting down a glass that was just as full as before. "The Arrada visits many suitable folk, ere flowering in one. If no one else in all the Vale saw flames in their dreams hot enough to awaken them, then you might want to set your affairs in order accordingly, but I think that's highly unlikely. Majesty, if you were to issue a royal decree in the morning that any waking dreams suffered this night must be reported…"
"I shall," Raulin said, pale-faced. "This is…"
"Unsettling," Orele told him. "You were going to say 'exciting,' and discovered that the word was unsuitable. Unsettling is nearer the mark."
King Castlecloaks gave the old woman a respectful look. "Not for nothing are you deemed one of the Wise. Have you any advice for me?"
"Get yourself a wife," Lady Orele said promptly, "but make sure you choose the right one. Bed her well, and sire at least two heirs. Give one to me, to raise far away and in secret." A smile touched her lips. "You see why I wanted no one near the keyhole?"
Raulin Castlecloaks stared at her, his eyes large and dark, and shivered suddenly.
"Secrets, secrets," the Delcamper chambermaid Faerla whispered, her fingers laid carefully across the keyhole of the door that connected their room with Lady Orele's.
Lameira nodded, so close in the darkness that their foreheads almost touched. She was close enough to see Faerla's disapproving expression as her irrepressible friend added mournfully, "Life used to be so simple."
25
A Dragon Over Flowfoam
I trust," Ingryl Ambelter said mildly in the nickering firelight, "you all understand my orders? And the fate awaiting anyone who disobeys them?"
There was a moment of silence, and then the answer came as a thunderous, ragged murmur: "Yes, Great Serpent."
The snake-headed man looked down at them from his newly shaped, emerald-scaled height (Ingryl Ambelter had discovered he rather liked being head-and-shoulders taller than everyone around him) and hissed, "Good. Very good. Now, my Lords of the Serpent, heed me further. Rather than try to whelm armies and march them on Flowfoam, you are to round up all Aglirtans you've managed to infect with Blood Plague, but who you've thus far kept from beast-shape or falling into madness, and give them weapons. I shall do the rest. You shall know my question as to your readiness, when it comes, and I shall expect only one answer."
He let silence hang in the still-shattered chamber for a tightly-smiling moment, and then snapped, "Now go and do this! Hasten!"
Men in robes far more elaborate than his own streamed past the flickering braziers to the door-all but a dozen senior priests, who stepped back from the throng to stand along one wall together. When the doors had been closed behind their departing Brethren, they stepped forward in a small group to face the Great Serpent. Each had mind-heard his personal orders to remain, and so knew without a doubt that this wizard commanded the Thrael, and thereby was the rightful Serpent.
Ingryl's eyes seemed to meet all of theirs at once. "Is everyone armed sufficiently? The doorpriests can bring you blades if you wish."
There was a general silence. Priests cast glances at each other, but no one stepped forward or spoke.
The Great Serpent nodded. "Good. You deem yourselves ready, then?"
There were nods and murmurs of "Yes, Highest."
"You know what to do, and that the Brotherhood depends on you this day. Fail us all not."
Ingryl Ambelter threw up his hands, arms spread wide dramatically, and sent them all elsewhere. The Thrael allowed him to command the Dwaer without even touching