"What Harper work?" Vangerdahast almost snarled, striding into the room and making for the comfortable armchair that had been left for him.
Ree shrugged. "What I know not, I cannot be made to say." "Hah! You expect me to believe that?"
"Yes, "King Azoun said from where he sat, the word so sudden and steely that Vangerdahast blinked again, halted, and waited for more. Anticipated words that did not come.
After a breath or two, the Royal Magician continued to his seat and told the ceiling as he turned to sit, "Word came to me that the Dragon Queen had need of my presence at a moot, wherefore I am here. Do we await later arrivals, or-?"
"We do not, Vangey. Your grand entrance is unmarred." Filfaeril's tone was as dry as the sands of a deserr. "If you're sitting comfortably enough, we can begin."
"I am. The purpose of this little conclave?"
"Thrust to the heart, thrust to the heart," Dalonder Ree murmured. The Royal Magician did not deign to look in his direction, but Laspeera and Filfaeril both gave him sly little smiles.
"It appears," the King of Cormyr said calmly, "that the Knights of Myth Drannor continue to be embroiled in some manner of violence in the wilderlands along the Moonsea Ride, beyond our present borders but in territory we customarily patrol and secure so that no menace may gather there for forays into our fair realm. The identities of their foes are a matter of some conjecture and dispute. I would hear your honest and informal counsel, everyone, on what we should now do about this."
"Nothing," Vangerdahast said, as Deltalon and the Harper started to speak. "They are adventurers, and they have departed the realm. Let them adventure and taste whatever fates the gods see fit to hand them. We cannot be forever reaching out our hands across Faerun to meddle in the affairs of others."
"No, of course not," Dalonder Ree told the ceiling. "Only twice or thrice a day, when we want to-if we happen to be, say, a Royal Magician."
Two royal snorts of mirth quelled the icy rejoinder Vangerdahast had turned his head to deliver. He satisfied himself by ignoring the Harper's comment and said, "In this room we can only concern ourselves with Cormyrean interests and policies. As this is an informal discussion, let me express myself bluntly: I am very strongly of the opinion that no further aid of any sort should be rendered to the chartered adventurers known as the Knights of Myth Drannor. If they establish themselves in Shadowdale, as certain parties obviously intend that they do, we shall then extend the hand of diplomacy-"
"Envoys in the front door, spies through the back," Ree murmured.
"— as usual," Vangerdahast said, giving the Harper a glare. "For one thing, I want to keep Wizards of War clear of that atea just now for quite another reason."
Into the little silence that followed, Queen Filfaeril asked quietly, "And that reason would be?"
Vangerdahast looked at her a little beseechingly and murmured, "It touches on the royal family, and I would prefer not to speak openly in present company."
"That's difficult, Vangey," King Azoun said, "because I would very much prefer that you do."
The Royal Magician did not trouble to- hide his shrug or his sigh. "Very well. There is peril to the Princess Tanalasta, owing to a magical link between her mind and a Wizard of War who has now become a renegade and a fugitive, whom I believe to currently be in the same area as the Knights."
"Ruldroun," Laspeera murmured.
Vangerdahast gave her a glare. "If we're laying bare every last secret of the realm for no good reason, aye. Ruldroun is the mage I speak of. I don't know of any connection at all between him and the Knights, but if we flood that stretch of forest with war wizards and spells get hurled… well, what happens to his mind could harm the princess, no matter what safeguards I weave around her here."
"I have no magic to speak of," the Harper said, "so I see no reason I shouldn't go to the aid of the Knights. I would even be so bold as to request war wizard aid in translocating me across the vastness of fair Cormyr so I can reach them in good time."
"I will furnish that," Deltalon spoke up, "and accompany you to assist and to bring back reliable report of what befalls."
"You will not." Vangerdahast could put a ring of steel into his voice that echoed louder and more forcefully than even the "hear now my royal will" tone of King Azoun.
"He will," Queen Filfaeril said so softly and calmly that she seemed almost to be whispering. "Vangey, in this you are overruled."
The Royal Magician reeled in his chair as if he'd been slapped across the face. "You-you-"
"Dare?" the Dragon Queen inquired sweetly. "Of course. And please try my royal husband before you deem me foolish or standing alone in this."
With slow and obvious reluctance, Vangerdahast turned his head to look at the king, who smiled, nodded, and said, "The Harper is to be given all the assistance he deems necessary-including the service of Wizard of War Deltalon."
"I shall see to that," Laspeera said softly.
Vangerdahast's gaze snapped around to her-but he gave her no glare, only silence and several blinks of his eyes, as if some sort of facial tic were afflicting him.
"Very well," he said at last. "But hear me!" He gave the Harper a glare that might have melted a shield. "You're not taking an army of Purple Dragons!"
"Why would I," the Harper's face was all innocence, "when all I need is one Dragon? The man called Dauntless."
Slowly at first, then uproariously until his mirth expired in a fit of choking, the Royal Magician of Cormyr laughed.
Chapter 22
If you skuld out in the trees this nigh The moon is down, not shining bright So lovers stay in, the beasts do ptowl If you skulk out in the trees this night Be the one to pounce-not death-howl.
Brorn had grown tired of looking down at himself. He was entirely skeletal now, coated in bone that made his movements slower, his limbs heavy. Yet his joints were still supple enough, and thankfully he still had eyes and a tongue, his own insides-and what made him a man, too. And he felt… normal. Hah. Normal.
He shook his head and plucked again at the tangle of belts, baldrics, and sheaths that were all he now wore. He'd long ago grown weary of his clothes falling off him with every step, breeches collapsing again and again around his ankles, and suddenly huge boots wobbling and even turning loosely on his bony feet, and he had finally abandoned them. He was thinner, everywhere, as if his flesh had melted away under the coating of bone.
So now Brorn Hallomond was, in truth, the Striding Skeleton. Whether this was really bone coating him or not-and it certainly looked like bone-it seemed something of a shield against the cold. He could no longer feel the gentle touch of the night breeze.
So was he dead? Did it matter?
The night was dark, with drifting clouds cloaking most of the stars and no Selune riding high, so he'd left the thick, tiring, confusing tangles of the fotest to stalk along the Moonsea Ride.
Thus far alone and unmolested.
No honest traveler would still be out faring on a moonless night, outlaws would probably shrink back from a walking skeleton, and he could always duck into the trees if he saw anyone approaching.
So he strode along, trying to cover as much ground as he could without getting really tired. The Knights should be somewhere near, by now.
"Should I-"
"Remain still and silent? Yes. All else: No."
Laspeera's voice was brisker than shed meant it to be, so she gave the ornrion a smile and added gently, "Keep your eyes open as the spell ends. You'll be plunged into a well-lit void, rich blue emptiness that it seems you'te falling through, and then yout feet will be on solid ground, somewhere at night in the forest-that 'somewhere' being wherever the Knights of Myth Drannor are. Speak and move and draw sword then, if you deem it needful, but not before. Please."