Rivalen had battled three phaerimm at once, toe to thorn and with no chance to call for help. He had dallied with twin succubae and awakened to find them-well, he didn't want to relive that again. He had fought demons- bare-handed, by Shadow-and been the one who flew away. And never, not in eight-hundred years-not even when he gave his spirit over to the shadowstuff-not once had he been frightened. Not like this.
'How?' the Most High asked. His voice was calm, gentle-even reasonable-in that terrible tone it assumed just before he condemned someone to an eternity of wandering the Barrens of Doom and Despair. 'Can someone please explain this?'
They were looking down at the camp of the Harper witch and her Cormyrean scouts. Not scrying it through the world-window, mind you, but looking straight down on it from the Most High's personal observation balcony in the Palace Most High. Staring down through the shadow mists at an imminently defensible camp, located in a maze of canyons so narrow a veserab's wings would touch both sides. A maze of canyons flooded by magic light with no particular source, where the few shadows that did exist were guarded by a squad of sentries armed with both magic and steel. A maze of canyons where the Shadovar would have to fight their way in like common ore foot soldiers, and a maze of canyons with plenty of room for more Cormyreans… and Sembians… and Dalesmen… and the Hidden One only knew who else, all determined to deny the lands of lost Netheril to the Shadovar.
The witch could not see them, of course. Certainly, her Bedine vassals had reported to her the stream of veserabs that constantly dropped into the lake there, and no doubt remarked on the dark storm cloud that never seemed to leave the area, but she could not see Shade Enclave. There were still the shadow mists and the thousands of feet above ground and, not least of all, the Most High's magic, but Rivalen was not so sure. 'Rivalen?'
Rivalen felt the weight of the Most High's gaze upon him. He did not bother to look up. There was nothing there to see anyway. He simply swallowed his fear, then addressed his father.
'There is a reason Ruha hides her face behind a veil, Most High,' he said. 'Of all the races on Toril, the Shadovar have more reason than any to know the power of the hidden.' 'True, but that explains nothing.'
Rivalen swallowed-hard. 'Most High, who can explain the will of the Hidden One? The witch is down there; that is all that matters-save my own failure in stopping her in Cormyr.'
It was this last that saved him. The weight of the Most High's scrutiny vanished at once, and the air grew still and cold as he came to Rivalen's side.
'You did as you thought best, my son,' Telamont said, and Rivalen's shoulder grew numb with cold. 'I am sure you will make it up to us.' 'As am I,' Rivalen said.
'Good.' The Most High squeezed his shoulder until Rivalen thought it would break. 'Now, we must concern ourselves with what to do next.'
'The answer is clear, Most High,' said Clariburnus. 'We must kill the witch.' The Most High was silent.
Clariburnus continued, the words spilling out of him like breath. 'The magic of the Weave is impure and weak, no match for the Shadow Weave. All we need do is drop a shadow blanket-'
'And that will help us how?' the Most High asked, his voice alarmingly reasonable and calm. 'By disposing of your mistake?' 'My mistake, Most High?'
'Was she not your guide, brother?' Rivalen asked. 'Yours and Brennus's?'
'She was,' Brennus answered, 'and we controlled her.'
'Enough!' the Most High spat 'There is no use in blaming each other. I am disappointed in all of you.' The Most High remained silent.
Escanor was the first who dared to speak. 'What does the witch matter? If she cannot enter the city, what does it matter if she camps below us for a century?'
'It only matters if you are wrong,' the Most High responded.
The question hung in the air as heavy as lead. None of the brothers dared answer.
Finally, the Most High said, 'You have all failed me. All of you princes.' The shadow mists briefly obscured the tents of the Cormyrean camp, and when they cleared again, the princes were looking at a circle of white rocks. 'Do you see that circle?' 'A teleportation circle,' Rivalen said.
His knees nearly buckled under the weight of the Most High's question. 'For retreat, I believe,' Rivalen said. More silence. 'But I could be wrong,' Rivalen admitted.
'If he is, there will be an army below us in hours,' Clariburnus said. 'Laeral required less than three hours to transport her entire relief army to the Sharaedim.'
Rivalen glowered into Clariburnus's lead-colored eyes. As the Eleventh Prince-and the youngest still surviving-he was an ambitious one, always eager to raise himself at his brothers' expense.
'Do not blame your brother for your failures, Rivalen,' Clariburnus said. 'In Cormyr, the Steel Regent bested you handily.'
Escanor, always Rivalen's favorite brother, said, 'We have all underestimated the enemy.' 'You certainly have,' Clariburnus said.
Escanor took a step toward the junior prince-only to find Hadrhune blocking his way.
'Dear princes, if we allow the enemy to divide us like this, we have lost already.' The seneschal-more ambitious than any of the princes and, in his own way, more dangerous-turned toward the Most High. 'Mighty Telamont, if I may-' 'If you must' Hadrhune continued, nonplussed, 'If I may suggest a more conservative strategy, perhaps we should call our armies home and defend the enclave.' Telamont remained silent.
'Yes, Most High, I do believe the witch might know a way into the enclave,' the seneschal added, glancing in the direction of Clariburnus and Brennus. 'We do not know what she learned when she was brought here. You are aware of where I found her.'
The Most High whirled away from the rail and stabbed an empty sleeve at Hadrhune's face. 'The Faerыnians are not being reasonable!' he stormed. 'What do we want, but what was Netheril's to begin with? By what right do they deny us?'
Rivalen breathed easier and settled in for the rant. Having not been born for seven hundred years after Shade left Faerыn, he did not feel the same sense of entitlement as the Most High, but he recognized the power it held over his father. The dream of reclaiming Anauroch and driving out the phaerimm was really all there was of Telamont Tanthul. At times, it made Rivalen wish he had been alive to see the glory that was Netheril, if only so he could understand his own phantom nature.
'Netheril was the most beautiful, the highest and mightiest, the worthiest civilization that Faerыn ever spawned!' Telamont complained. 'And the Heartlands balk at a few decades of starvation! I would not hesitate-not hesitate at all, I tell you-to wipe them all from the face of the world if it meant the return of the floating cities. And the elves-I would give Evereska and Ever-meet both to the phaerimm, for just the century of peace we need to restore Anauroch to its glory.'
Brennus stepped forward, head bowed and ceremonial fangs displayed. 'If it pleases the Most High, I would be happy to go to the Sharaedim to open-' 'Negotiations?' The Most High cuffed him-actually struck him-and sent the prince sprawling. 'That I ought to allow.'
The Most High turned to Rivalen, platinum eyes burning with a question.
'The alliance could have their army here all too soon,' Rivalen reported. 'Our agents in Tilverton report that it is already many thousands strong, and growing by the hour.' The Most High turned to Clariburnus.
'Our army from the Sharaedim is passing south of the Shadow Sea as we speak,' Clariburnus said. 'It will reach Tilverton by tomorrow evening.'
'How soon could it be here?' asked Hadrhune. As usual, the seneschal's impudence was beyond belief. It was as though he believed that because he was not plane-spawned he had nothing to fear from the Most High's wrath. 'In time to stop the Cormyreans?' Clariburnus inclined his head. 'It is but an hour away.'
Hadrhune turned to the Most High. 'Perhaps we could split the army. Recall enough to ensure against an assault.'
'That way lies defeat in both battles,' Rivalen said. 'There are more than ten thousand enemy soldiers in Tilverton, many of them war wizards and clerics. If I am to defeat them, I will need our entire army.' 'Even the army in Myth Drannor?' Escanor asked.
In truth, Rivalen thought it would take that army as well, but he did not dare alienate his closest ally among the princes-and his only older brother.
He inclined his head to Escanor and said, 'Any troops you were able to spare would certainly add to the victory.'
