hadn’t expected the mage-blasted knights to return.
Then the Cormyrean knights were between the rocks and into the vale itself. There was a sudden flash of light near where Alusair’s unbound hair streamed back over her shoulders, followed by a roar of flame.
A huge burst of red, roiling fire blazed up in front of them, and someone in the wedge of horsemen gave a frightened shout, but Alusair did not hesitate. The fire flared, then melted away as if it were a wisp of illusion, parted by their commander as she rode. She still held the jewel-pommeled dagger out in front of her, and a few of the men saw smoke streaming away from the gem. Doubtless it was some enchantment to fight the magical power of the enemy and turn aside its energies.
Then there was no time for such thoughts, for orcs were everywhere, and there was something to strike out at, at last! The knights parted to ride along the sides of the vale, cutting down everything in their path.
Brace Skatterhawk caught a glimpse of a snarling, gray-green face. He slashed out with his blade, struck something thick and soft, and rode on, never knowing whether he’d felled his foe. Short grunts and screams rose all around them amid the thunder of the hooves, and then fresh fire blossomed ahead.
The princess had been right. There was a cavern at the back of the vale, and from it was rolling an angry red sphere of flames, cartwheeling toward them. Alusair barked a command directing the knights to move to either side of the rolling fire. Then she charged the rolling fireball. Again the ball of flame evaporated at the touch of Alusair’s bejeweled dagger.
With new respect, her warriors obeyed and reined in along both sides of the valley, watching a few surviving orcs cowering out in the open. Others of their goblinoid foes moaned and twisted feebly where they fell. The rest lay still and quiet. There was no further resistance save from the cavern itself.
“What’s in the cave, Princess?” Brace asked. Threldryn Imbranneth was close behind him.
Alusair was winded and gasping, and the noblemen, romantics both, thought they’d never seen her look more beautiful than now, helmless in her armor. She shot them a quick glance and then swung her gaze back to the cavern.
“A dark naga, unless I miss my guess,” she said. “Beldred’s over on the other side of the vale. Let’s hope he can convince the hotheads not to charge this time.”
“A naga?” Threldryn asked. “I mean no disrespect, Princess, but how can you-or anyone else-know that?”
Brown eyes blazed into his. “When you go to war, do you merely ride, Lord Imbranneth? Try thinking, just once-you may find things go much better!” Some of the fire in her gaze ebbed, and she added, “So far on this campaign, we’ve fought hydras and fire lizards and orcs bold enough to come down into our lowland farms not once, but thrice. Where are all these creatures coming from?”
“Well, uh-the-the Stonelands, Princess,” offered Threldryn, floundering. “Where else?”
“Don’t you think it just a trifle odd, my lord, that three chimeras would line up to do battle with us one after the other? Beasts that should be fighting each other when drawn so close together?”
“Zhentarim,” Brace murmured. “The Black Network. Using their magical gates and monstrous charms again!”
“Precisely,” Alusair said in fierce agreement. “And that suggests these orcs were fleeing to their master, in that cave, one of those dark nagas the Black Network set up as mentors to their bands of orcs. We took a lightning bolt, and then a fireball, my spellshield dagger took care of the latter. If it had been a mage in yonder cave, he’d have hit us with something more potent by now, or else fled. Instead, we got a flaming sphere!”
“Therefore, a naga, now mystically spent and down to its lesser spells!” Threldryn said triumphantly. Alusair allowed herself a smile. There was hope for the young nobles of Cormyr yet.
Beldred rode up now, and the princess said, “There’s a naga in there, and I’m going in after it. I want two volunteers to go with me-and only two. If I don’t come out by sundown, my orders are that you decide on the best attack you can think of and follow us in.”
Brace, Beldred, and Threldryn volunteered, of course. The princess left Beldred behind in command of the surviving nobles. The Truesilver captain immediately set out scouts to look for surviving orcs or other surprises of the Zhentarim.
Alusair took the other two nobles with her, striding steadily along the rocks on one side of the vale toward the dark cleft ahead. When some rocks provided a bit of cover close to their goal, the princess motioned them to halt behind her and took the time to glance back to see if her companions were ready.
Then she cast a long look at the rest of her company, pulled into defensive positions in case the cavern held any more surprises. This section of the Stonelands afforded a great view of the lands of the south, and Alusair could see at the horizon a thin line of green, the distant woods of Cormyr. Farther south would be Suzail, where Uncle Bhereu lay cold and Thomdor and her father lay dying.
Brace and Threldryn saw sudden tears glimmer in the princess’s eyes. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and turned away from them, tossing her head in fresh resolve.
“Princess? What’s happened?” Brace asked hesitantly.
Ash-blonde hair danced as his commander’s head snapped around to face him again. “Nothing any Purple Dragon shouldn’t always be prepared for,” she said curtly, and slowly drew her blade, silently daring them to say more about her tears.
Silently they followed suit, and she seemed to almost smile.
“Now, gentle sirs,” she said crisply, “are you with me? For Cormyr?”
“For Cormyr!” they echoed, and this time she did smile. “Then let us take the battle to our foe.” And she eased toward the waiting darkness of the cave.
Brace Skatterhawk never forgot what followed. To his dying day, he could call to mind the frantic fight in the cavern with the serpentine naga, with spells blazing all around, and Alusair’s fearlessness through it all. Their foe coiled and hissed as they slashed and sprang and hacked at it again. Its venomous tail loomed above them repeatedly, stabbing down with frightening speed. Alusair was the one who braved its jaws to blind the beast, of course, crying, “For Azoun and Cormyr!”
All three warriors had a blade in the creature’s death, thrusting like madmen as the naga screamed and eventually died. It sounded chillingly like a woman sobbing as its lifeblood flowed out of it.
As the serpent-thing lay dying, thrashing about in oily, spreading black gore, Alusair leapt over it in frantic haste. Brace saw her snatch another gem, some last gewgaw of magic, from her belt as she leapt.
She threw the gem at what stood, flickering, behind the naga. Her target was an upright oval of blue magical fire cradled in the depths of the cavern. It was the magical gate she had spoken of, a door created by the Zhentarim. The gate collapsed with a roar, just as a red creature like a gigantic upright crab lurched through it. The magical radiance of the gate winked out as the gem struck it, and the crablike monster tumbled forward, cut in half.
Brace allowed himself to exhale, then heard a general roar of approval from behind them. The impatient nobles had flooded into the cavern. Apparently they had been unable to wait until sundown, particularly once they heard the naga’s screams.
“Hurrah! Our work’s done, then, Princess!” Ulnder Huntcrown, one of the young hotspurs, bellowed exultantly.
“No, Ulnder,” the warrior princess told him grimly, hands on her hips. “Our work is just beginning. We have to hunt down and close all the other gates like this one.”
“Huh,” the noble growled in exasperation. “Why are victories never so clear and final as when the minstrels sing?”
“Because singers don’t clean up after themselves. Warriors do,” Alusair told him tartly
“Or they soon die,” Harandil Thundersword murmured from nearby. The princess looked at the softspoken nobleman sharply, then nodded in agreement. The warrior princess regarded the others, and they, too, nodded, slightly embarrassed.
Alusair allowed a smile, teeth flashing white, and shouted, “That’s enough of great battles for today, lads! Let’s find a good guardable place to camp and get some rest. We’ll be in the saddle scouring the Stonelands on the morrow!”
There was a general sigh of breath let out as the nobles relaxed. A chorus of good-natured groans answered her words, but she saw more than one man raise his blade to his forehead in salute. She smiled in genuine pleasure. “That’s my bold band! Gods, I’m proud to think of Cormyr in the years ahead, with all of you sitting in your
