“Majesty,” said Aoth, “we all acknowledge your power. But surely there’s a reason why you, in your wisdom, chose to fight at the head of an army instead of alone. And surely, for that army to serve its purpose, we need to be able to use our skills to best effect.”
Tchazzar advanced on Meralaine. Who recoiled a step, though she’d supposedly fought bravely during the siege and confronted horrors on a regular basis practicing her art. Hasos looked eager for what was to come.
Tchazzar grabbed handfuls of Meralaine’s mantle and jerked her off her feet, putting the two of them face to face. He looked like an enraged father shaking a naughty child. “Who freed you?” he shouted, spattering her with steaming drops of spittle.
Oraxes’s eyes opened wide, and his upper body hitched forward like he could barely restrain the urge to intervene. Meanwhile Meralaine flinched again, either from the heat of the dragon’s saliva, his vehemence, or a combination of the two. “You did, Majesty,” she stammered.
“And is this how you repay me?”
Meralaine looked like she had no idea what Tchazzar wanted her to say. Aoth didn’t either. He only knew that the young necromancer was currently dangling ashen-faced because he’d ordered her north. He had an obligation to protect her.
“Majesty,” he said, “please. Obviously there’s no need for any … debate. You rule here. If you don’t want the girl to call the dead, she won’t.”
“Then why is she even here?” Tchazzar snapped. “Explain her presence!”
Aoth was still trying to frame an answer likely to mollify the dragon when, to his relief, Jhesrhi spoke. “Alasklerbanbastos is a dracolich. He’s probably sent lesser undead south to fight us. We need a necromancer’s special knowledge to help us destroy them.”
Tchazzar frowned. “We have priests for that.”
“Knowledge and faith working together often accomplish more than faith alone. I think even Sunlord Apathos would admit that. In any case, I command the wizards who fight for the Brotherhood. I promise you that Meralaine will only use her powers to banish ghosts, never to call them from their graves.”
“So be it,” Tchazzar said. He tossed Meralaine away like she was a bone he’d finished gnawing.
Gaedynn was well aware he had better things to do. Still, something made him watch from a distance while Oraxes hovered over Meralaine. Eventually she shooed him away. He sensed she was embarrassed that Tchazzar had frightened her and disliked attention that kept the memory fresh. Because she wanted to look and feel strong.
Gaedynn approved of that. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was never to expose a vulnerable spot to anyone.
Still not sure why he was bothering-the mages out of Luthcheq were Jhesrhi’s and Aoth’s problem, and thank the
Oraxes glared. “What? I didn’t do anything.”
Gaedynn grinned. “No, but you were thinking of it. Don’t give in to the temptation. Tchazzar will swat you like a gnat.”
“All my life, people have told me how he was everything great and good.”
“The same people who said that every mage is evil at the core?”
Oraxes blinked. “I … Some of them, but it’s not the same thing.”
“It’s time you recognized a sad truth. You Chessentans are brave, and good at athletics, but not very bright.”
Oraxes bristled. “Tchazzar is good in his way. He truly did free us.”
“And if you want to live to enjoy it when this is over, stay away from him. Don’t accept an appointment at court, or any nonsense like that.”
“How would you know what goes on at court? You’ve been up here in the north.”
“I know a certain type of arrogance when I see it. I know how such lords behave.” Even when it endangered the lives of their sons.
“You just don’t like it that he likes Jhesrhi.”
“Nonsense. Since I seem to be in an advice-giving mood, let me advise you that one woman is much like another, and none of them is worth so much as the loss of your composure, let alone a drop of your blood. In other words, don’t go annoying the dragon-who also happens to be your sovereign-over a lass. By the Black Bow, you didn’t even
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Oraxes said.
“Good, because I have a job for you. I’m going out to scout, and with the enemy so near, I want a wizard with me. The outing can do double duty as your first flying lesson. We’ll borrow Queen Umara. She’s docile-well, for a griffon-and she’ll follow Eider’s lead.”
Oraxes blinked. “I didn’t ask to learn to ride a griffon.”
“That’s one of the advantages of military life. Your superiors provide you with interesting experiences you didn’t even know you wanted.”
Queen Umara was a trifle small for a griffon, with a hint of red in her plumage, a scarred, featherless spot on the side of her aquiline head, and a crooked hind leg. She’d sustained both injuries on the expedition into Thay, but fortunately neither rendered her unfit to fly or fight.
Oraxes seemed surprised and suspicious that Gaedynn gave him so few instructions. He thought there had to be more to riding a griffon than that. He was right, but he was also a child of Luthcheq’s slums. Gaedynn had a hunch he’d never even ridden a donkey, and didn’t want to confuse him with too much information. It was better to trust Queen Umara to handle what a novice rider couldn’t.
“Ready?” Gaedynn asked.
“Let’s go,” the wizard replied. His voice cracked, and Gaedynn grinned.
He brushed a fingertip up Eider’s neck. She trotted, lashed her wings, and rose into the air. Gaedynn glanced back and saw Queen Umara leave the ground with an awkward lurch. It might have tossed her rider out of the saddle if not for the straps and buckles holding him there. The problem wasn’t a lack of agility. Oraxes had thrown the griffon off her rhythm by repeating a command, or giving it too forcefully.
Eider found a column of warm, rising air and used it to lift her and her master high above the plain. Gaedynn looked down at the copses and the high ground the decoy force would occupy. At soldiers busy digging earthworks or constructing archers’ platforms in the trees, and others just arriving from the south and west, the unlucky fellows in the rear of a column eating the dust raised by their comrades in the front.
He wheeled Eider toward the north, and Oraxes and Queen Umara followed. After a while a griffon rider passed them heading the other way, for of course the Brotherhood had other scouts watching on the enemy. And Gaedynn trusted them-but, like Aoth, he still needed to see things for himself. That was how the elves had taught him to hunt.
He kept an eye on Oraxes. The mage’s anxiety revealed itself in his hunched, rigid posture and in the grim intensity of his expression. But after a while, the ruffled feathers on Queen Umara’s neck lay down, and she stopped screeching in annoyance. Because her rider wasn’t directing her in the needlessly frantic manner he had before.
Some time after that, some of the stony grimness left Oraxes’s face. He still didn’t look like he was enjoying his situation, but he might have been feeling some satisfaction that he was able to cope.
Gaedynn nodded. Truculence and all, the lad would do. If-
Abruptly angry with himself, he cut off that line of thought. Plainly it would be worthwhile to recruit Oraxes, but it would have been a good idea at any time and under any circumstances. There was no
And if she did, to the Abyss with her.
Not long afterward, he spotted a blot on the green and brown earth ahead and felt glad of the need to focus on it. Attending to business would keep his mind from straying where he didn’t want it to go.
But the relief, if that was the proper word for it, only lasted until he noticed there were
