The Siege rota-2

by Troy Denning

  "You know that Escanor has asked Vala to accompany him on the assault against the Myth Drannor phaerimm."

  "She is a fine warrior, and her darksword has power," Telamont said. "It is a good choice." "I want you to keep her here."

  "Vala is not the kind to hide from death," Telamont said. "Even were such a thing possible, she would think less of herself for it."

  "That's not what I'm worried about," Galaeron said. "She can take care of herself, even in a cave full of phaerimm, but I need her here." "Ah, the promise."

  They reached an archway and passed through into a small corner chamber with windows of thin-sliced obsidian on two walls. Beyond the windows, the customary murk that swaddled the enclave appeared to be almost nonexistent, allowing a spectacular-if rather darkened-view of Anauroch's sands rolling past below.

  Telamont motioned Galaeron to a chair next to one of the windows and took the one opposite, then said, "The promise she made was to kill you if your shadow self takes over."

  Galaeron nodded. "I need to know she's there to keep it." "No, you don't."

  Hadrhune appeared unbidden at the Most High's side, again running his thumbnail along the deep groove in his staff. Telamont ordered wine for himself and Galaeron, and the seneschal dug into the groove so deeply that the tip of his thumb paled to light gray.

  Telamont continued, "Vala will never need to keep that promise, not while you are in my company."

  Galaeron inclined his head. "You are capable of many things, Most High, but even you cannot solve my shadow crisis for me, as you have said-"

  "Many times myself." Telamont raised a sleeve to silence him, and Galaeron saw the translucent form of a withered claw silhouetted in gray against the faint light of the obsidian windows. "But if you are going to lie, lie to me, not yourself." Galaeron frowned. "What are you saying?"

  "You know what I am saying," Telamont said. "At least your shadow does." "That I don't want Vala to go because I'm jealous?" Telamont remained silent.

  Galaeron rose and strode across the room, nearly bumping into a small writing table before he noticed it floating in the murk. "Elves don't get jealous."

  "Nor do they fall asleep," Telamont replied, "or dream like humans."

  Galaeron swallowed his rising anger, then turned to face the Most High. "What if I am jealous? I still want you to keep her here."

  Telamont looked out over the passing desert. "And who wants this?"

  Galaeron considered a moment and realized he was thinking only of his own needs and not Vala's. She would feel diminished to think that he didn't trust her-and he still didn't want her to go. "Does it matter?" Galaeron asked.

  Telamont's cowled head bobbed in approval. "You are beginning to understand, but I will not interfere with Escanor's mission." He turned away from the window and fixed Galaeron with his platinum glare. "Forget this woman. Your shadow will use your love against you, and such emotional attachments can only interfere with your studies."

  Galaeron's head was swirling. He had, of course, been aware of his growing attraction to Vala but had never called it love, even in his mind. Elves had to know each other for years-sometimes decades-before they felt anything close to what humans described as love, and he had only known Vala for a few months. To say that he loved her… well, most elves didn't sleep or dream, either. Galaeron felt the weight of a question and looked up to find Telamont's gaze still fixed on him.

  "Studies?" he asked, hoping to cover what was really going through his mind.

  Telamont's eyes twinkled. "Your magic studies," he said. "You are quite a gifted innatoth. Once you are at peace with your shadow, I will begin to teach you in earnest."

  "Truly?" Even to Galaeron, the response sounded less than enthusiastic, but he kept seeing Vala in Escanor's arms, and that was an image he never wanted to feel comfortable with. "This comes as something of a surprise. Melegaunt warned me to stop using magic altogether."

  "Melegaunt was ever the cautious one," Telamont returned. "A fine attribute for spies… but limiting."

  Hadrhune emerged from the gloom with the wine. He served Telamont first, then crossed the room to offer Galaeron a glass of some vinegary black swill that would not have been used to pickle thracks in Evereska. Galaeron raised his hand to decline and bowed to Telamont.

  "You have given me much to think about," he said. "If I may, I should return to Villa Dusari to meditate."

  Telamont's eyes dimmed, but he raised a sleeve and dismissed Galaeron with a wave. "If you think that best. Perhaps Hadrhune will join me in your place."

  "I would be honored, Most High." Hadrhune glared fire at Galaeron, then spun toward the window so fast that the goblet flew off the tray and spilled. "What a pity-I'll have to fetch another."

  Galaeron left the sitting room with the hair prickling on his neck and his thoughts roaring like one of the sandstorms that occasionally forced the city to rise into the cold air miles above the desert. Like Melegaunt before him, the Most High clearly had plans to help Galaeron realize his full potential as a magic-user-and no hesitation about what it might cost Galaeron or those around him. Given the price he had paid merely for learning how to draw on the Shadow Weave, he was not at all eager to increase the depth of his knowledge-especially considering what Telamont had just said it would cost him. He was still enough of an elf to balk at the idea of giving up his emotions, but losing Vala was unthinkable-especially losing her to Escanor.

  Galaeron arrived at Villa Dusari angry and determined. He found his companions gathered in the courtyard, sitting on cushions on the ground so they could share the evening meal with Aris, who was reclining along one side of the courtyard with his head propped on a palm as large as a saddle. "Galaeron, what a surprise," Vala said.

  There was no real enthusiasm in her voice. She had yet to forget the sharp words he had spoken to her after the battle at the mythallar, and every time Galaeron thought to apologize, the shadow in him seemed to turn the moment into something awkward or bitter.

  "Fetch yourself a plate and mug," she said. "There's plenty to eat."

  Instead of stepping into the shadowed colonnade to do as Vala suggested, Galaeron crossed straight to the group. Ruha glanced from him to Vala, then back again, and rose with ghostlike grace. Malik kept his seat, watching the witch with narrow eyes. Aris nodded a welcome to the elf. "You sit," the witch said. "I'll go."

  She vanished into the building. Vala reluctantly moved over to make a place for Galaeron, but he stopped at her side and remained standing, ignoring Malik and the giant altogether. "Vala, you can't go with Escanor tonight."

  She looked up at him with an expression of disbelief. "Who are you to tell me what I can't do?" An angry heat rose to Galaeron's face. "I… I…"

  Surprised to find it was a question he could not answer, he let his reply trail off. What right could he claim over her decision? He had never spoken the words of love to her, had in fact denied even to himself that he felt such a thing-until Escanor had begun to take an interest in her. Only one oath had ever passed between them. "You made a promise to me," he said.

  "Were I you, that is not something I'd be eager to remind me of."

  Realizing he would get nowhere butting heads with a Vaasan, Galaeron took a moment to cairn himself-and to quell his shadow, which was whispering dark warnings about the sincerity of the threat implied in her words.

  When he finally felt under control, he said, "Vala, I need you to stay."

  "You've a funny way of showing it-and I'm not just talking about what you said at the mythallar," she said. "You've been treating me like some two-copper wench and everyone else like house servants. I don't much care for it."

  The outrage Galaeron felt from his shadow quickly gave way to a colder kind of anger, something more subtle and cunning. He found himself nodding and looking at the ground.

  'You're right," he heard himself say. "I owe you an apology." Vala cocked an eyebrow and said nothing.

  "And I'm going to give it to you at the pro
per time," Galaeron said. His shadow would not let him say he was sorry. He actually wanted to, but those were not the words that rose to his lips. "And in the proper place." Vala frowned. "Now is fine."

  Galaeron shook his head. "No, when we're out of this cursed city." Vala's jaw dropped. "You want to leave?" "As soon as possible."

  Galaeron sat beside her. He felt a little sick inside because the words were only what his shadow knew Vala wanted to hear, but what was the harm, really? If Telamont would not do a small favor like keep Vala in the enclave, then Galaeron was ready to leave.

  "We'll start planning after dinner and be gone as soon as we can collect everything we need," he said.

  Malik rose so fast he spilled his plate. "Leave? What of your training?"

  "As far as I can tell," Vala said, "Telamont is less interested in teaching Galaeron to control his shadow self than in turning him into a tool of Shade Enclave. He's getting worse, not better-we all see that."

  "7 have not seen that!" Malik tried to stop there, but his face contorted, and he continued, "Except, of course, that what I mean by 'better' is much influenced by the current needs of the One."

  "There can be no doubt of what Vala says," Aris said. "Galaeron is turning evil."

  "And so what if he does?" Malik demanded. He turned to address Galaeron directly. "Have you forgotten Evereska? Telamont needs the knowledge inside your head to defeat the phaerimm."

  "The need cannot be that great," Vala countered, "or he would not have moved the enclave so far from the battlefront."

  "You can't know that… though there is much to be said for your argument." Malik grimaced at the curse that forced him to add this last part, then tried another tack. "Even if the need is not great, there is an implied bargain. If you desert the Shadovar, why should they defend Evereska?"

  "I don't think anything Galaeron does will influence the Shadovar one way or the other," Aris said. He sat upright and spoke even more thoughtfully than usual. "The Shadovar serve the Shadovar in all things. They will defend Evereska because that is the best way to destroy their enemies."

  "Can no one here let a man make his arguments without spoiling them with logic and common sense?" Malik demanded. Fuming, he began to shake a leg of roasted fowl at Galaeron. "And who is this 'we'? I am going nowhere."

  "You are," Galaeron insisted, feeling vaguely betrayed. "Do you think Hadrhune will let you stay in this comfortable house after we're gone? You are here only because I am."

  Malik drew himself up to his full height, which was only a little taller than a dwarf. "I have means of my own," he said. "And even if they fail me, I have lived in gutters before, when service to the One demanded it… or when I could afford no better."

  "And you prefer that to our company?" Aris asked. "My friend, I do not understand."

  Malik sighed. "I do not prefer that at all. You are the best friends I have ever known… at least without paying." Face darkening, his beady eyes caught Ruha as she returned to the courtyard with a mug and plate for Galaeron. "It is what is safest The minute we are gone from this city, the hellwitch will plant a jambiya in my back."

  "Only if you are fleeing the Harp's justice," Ruha said from behind her veil. "But why be fearful? You are safe in Shade Enclave… unless you are planning to leave?"

  "That is no affair of yours," Malik said, face contorting as his curse compelled him to continue speaking. "Except that my friends are the ones leaving, not I. The One demands my presence in this city so that its denizens may bathe in the light of the Black Sun."

  "Ah." Aris nodded as though this made perfect sense. "My behorned friend, I know too much of your god to wish you success, but duty I understand. Your assistance will be missed at the shapings."

  Galaeron continued to feel betrayed but knew better than to think he could argue the Seraph of Lies out of obeying his god's will.

  "Do as you must, Malik. Can we trust you to keep our secret?"

  "Of course," Malik answered. "I am sure I could profit handsomely by running to Hadrhune the moment you are gone and announcing your escape, but in truth Aris's talent has already made me a wealthy man, and I have learned enough of his art to continue the business until his departure is discovered. You may be sure that I will be as loyal to you as I am to my own god and for the sake of my own profit remain silent on the subject of your departure… at least until someone tricks me into revealing it against my will."

  "We can ask no more," Aris said. "With luck, we will be far out in the desert by then."

  "Desert?" Ruha asked. "You will try to cross Anauroch… on foot?"

  "I do not think Galaeron has the magic to carry us across any other way," Aris replied, looking to Galaeron for confirmation. Galaeron shook his head. "That is beyond me."

  "And it would be unwise for him to push his limits," Vala added.

  "Wiser than trying to walk across Anauroch," Ruha said. "You know nothing of the desert"

  "No matter-they must leave, and the sooner the better." Vala took his hand. "You have been scaring me, Galaeron. I was beginning to think you meant to hold me to my promise."

  Galaeron barely heard this last part The word "they" was still reverberating through his head. "They?" he demanded.

  "I can't go with you," Vala said. "I'm due to leave with Escanor at midnight. If I don't show, he'll know something is wrong-and we all know they'll never let you leave willingly, not with Melegaunt's knowledge still locked inside your head."

  "Then we'll wait until you return," Galaeron said. It was all he could do not to accuse her of wanting to leave with Escanor. "That's simple enough."

  Vala shook her head. "It's not I may hate what Telamont is doing to you, but the Granite Tower's debt to Melegaunt is not yet discharged." "Melegaunt is dead," Galaeron objected.

  "So his duty becomes my duty," Vala said. "And there is the matter of my men trapped in Evereska. I can't return to Vaasa until I know what has become of them." "A convenient excuse," Galaeron said. Vala's face clouded with anger. "Convenient?"

  "So you can spend time with the prince," Galaeron said. He didn't really believe this, but the words were spilling from his mouth anyway. "If I were gone-"

  "Galaeron, don't do this." Vala's expression turned from angry to sad. "You have to go." "And leave you to Escanor?" "Galaeron," Aris began, "she would never-"

  Vala raised a hand. "Yes, I would, Aris." She turned to Galaeron. "You're right, Galaeron-I haven't felt anything for you since the mythallar."

  "That doesn't matter," Galaeron said. Who was this speaking, he wondered, because it did matter. "You made a promise."

  Vala's eyes narrowed. "And now I'm breaking it." She turned away from him and started for the interior of the villa. "I'm going with Escanor. Do us both a favor, Galaeron, and don't be here when I get back."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  15 Mirtul, the Year of Wild Magic

  Piergeiron arrived in Castle Waterdeep's unadorned Chamber of Common Command to find the captain of the City Watch and his senior armmaster and wizards-commander already in conference with their counterparts from the City Guard. Brian the Swordmaster was also present, hidden behind his Lord's cloak and helm. Even the Master of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors was there. Strictly speaking, the order was a civilian guild and not subject to military edict, but these were extraordinary times, and Piergeiron had often called private citizens to service when the security of the city was threatened. The question was, when the threat lay five hundred miles distant at Boareskyr Bridge, would they answer?

  Piergeiron stepped over to a free seat-there was no head at the circular table-but did not sit. "You heard?"

  Rulathon, the wiry, gray-haired captain of the watch, nodded grimly, waved a hand vaguely in the direction of his armmaster, and said, "Helve received a sending himself."

  Piergeiron turned to the scarred veteran. "Lassree?" he asked. Helve nodded. "She wanted to fight at Laeral's side."

  Piergeiron's heart rose into his throat. Lassree was Helv
e's daughter, a watch-wizard who often fought at her father's side during major disturbances.

  "I'm sorry," he said, turning to the others. "What can we do?"

  "Against a Rage of Dragons?" asked Thyriellentha Snome. The commander of the watch-wizard forces, she was a dusky woman of proud bearing and uncertain age who had been Mage Civilar since long before Piergeiron assumed office. "Not much, I am sorry to say."

  Though Helve's eyes were watering, he nodded. "Lassree said they were trapped against a wall of bugbears and gnolls, with all the blues of Anauroch dropping out of the clouds behind them. It's ending as we speak, I'm sure."

  "Be that as it may," the Open Lord said, "we must do what we can."

  Piergeiron ran his gaze around the table, pausing at each of the commanders to search for any hint of disagreement. They were brave soldiers all, but their duty was to Waterdeep, and if it was necessary to spell out how saving a relief army bound for Evereska contributed to the security of the city, he needed to know that.

  With Waterdeep still buried under a constant wave of blizzards and ships in the harbor capsizing under the weight of their ice-crusted masts, no one present needed any reminder of the danger posed to their city since the phaerimm had escaped their prison in Anauroch. He found no questions in the eyes of the gathered commanders.

  "Good," Piergeiron said. "As we speak, Maliantor is calling Force Grey to my palace. She will begin a scrying to determine what she can about the course of the battle. What I would like from you is to send a force of volunteers-a hundred battle mages and two hundred swordsmen-to meet her at the palace within the quarter hour. I have a store of teleport scrolls-"

  "That won't be necessary," rasped a voice in the corner.

  Piergeiron turned to find Prince Aglarel's swarthy form stepping out of the shadows beside the fireplace, his black cape and purple tabard almost seeming to solidify out of the darkness.