The Dragon's Doom - Ed Greenwood [96]
"We have the 'where,' now, but what shall we be doing there?" Tshamarra asked quietly, after they'd galloped along the road for some time, leaving Osklodge behind and losing all sight of Stornbridge.
Craer shrugged. "What we always do-draw our swords and chase them around the kingdom."
Tshamarra smiled and sighed. "Yes, but doing what?"
"Causing trouble, blundering along not knowing what to do next, and offering ourselves as targets for all foes of the crown."
"Craer!"
"Well," the procurer told her with an ingenuous grin, "it's worked so far."
Brother Landrun came up beside him, and Hanenhather sighed. "What do you think, Landrun?"
The tentacle that slapped across the Serpent-lord's mouth did not- quite-break his neck. A second tentacle was already ensnaring his wrists, crushing them ruthlessly even as it garnered them in, and a third wrapped around his waist and snatched him up into the air, to stare helplessly down at-at something that no longer looked much like Landrun at all.
For one thing, it had no face. Just smooth flesh where eyes, nose, and mouth should be… yet its voice was clear enough as it said coldly, "We Koglaur are feared and hated enough in the Vale without your shapeshifting mischief, Serpent-priest. Plague-monsters are one thing, but making doubles of tersepts and overdukes-or kings-is our province. The, overclever Lord of the Serpent."
The last thing Melvar Hanenhather saw, as tentacles slammed his head floorwards at breath-snatching speed, was a trickle of blood coming around the corner from the side passage. Landrun's, of course.
"Well, Brother Landrun?"
"Ah… isn't Overduke Anharu taller than that, Lord?"
The Lord of the Serpent peered at his most recent transformation. The armaragor did seem to loom a little less than the real Anharu did, in his remembrances, but…
"You may be right, Landrun," he said slowly. "Make it stand beside our Embra. I should have done Blackgult first, because he's about half a head taller than his daughter, and Anharu overtops him by about the same… or a little less, perhaps. Hmm."
Brother Landrun hastened to obey-so quickly that there was a stumbling thud as he hastened down the side passage.
He strode into view soon enough, looking none the worse for wear, and towed the shuffling Anharu over to where the false Embra stood. Neither of the transformations looked at the other, but stood shifting aimlessly from one foot to another. Landrun gazed at them for a moment, and then returned to the passage.
Lord of the Serpent Hanenhather peered narrowly at the two false overdukes. How much of the real Anharu's hulking size was his armor, bulking up those massive shoulders? Or did folk really look closely enough at him for it to matter? Casting the spell took but a moment, but getting the results right, now…
There was a guard at the Rowfoam docks that hadn't been there before- with ready strung bows, too, the customary spears relegated to the banner-display stands at the back of the docks. The dockloaders and pages were frightened and eager for news; barely had the Silver Fin tied up at the jetty than excited whispers arose in a hissing chorus, as every passenger and bargehand was queried.
Flaeros Delcamper bounded up the steps before any servant could ply him with questions of fires and slaughter and marauding monsters. His haste earned him a barrier of crossed spears at the first terrace, with an officer of the guard aiming a bowgun at him from behind them. "Hold hard! Your name and business?"
Flaeros frowned. "I am the bard Flaeros Delcamper, of Ragalar; here in Flowfoam at the personal invitation of my friend, the King."
"Your 'friend'?" a spear-wielding guard asked skeptically, but his older fellow guard had already lifted his spear and stepped back.
"He tells truth," the veteran told both the officer and his fellow spearman. "This is the man who faced down the nobles, and made them swear fealty to our new King. He practically ran this palace for a month or so, until things settled down."
The enlightened guards eyed Flaeros with