Troy Denning - The Siege

As the trio ascended the steps, two of the guards crossed their halberds in front of the entrance. The sergeant-no older than his comrades, but with a badly scarred face and an eye patch-stepped forward to address them.

"You have business with Lord Myrmeen?" he demanded.

Galaeron shook his head. "Our business is with Princess Alusair and her wizard," he said. "It concerns the abnormal weather Cormyr has been suffering of late."

The sergeant seemed not to hear the last part of his explanation. "This is the palace of Myrmeen Lhal," he said. "The Steel Regent keeps her home-and her wizard-in Suzail."

Alarm bells started clanging inside Galaeron's mind. "You are saying Arabel is no longer part of Cormyr?"

The sergeant's one eye narrowed. "What I'm saying is that unless you have business with Myrmeen Lhal-"

"We have it on good authority that Princess Alusair and Vangerdahast are inside," Ruha interrupted. She removed the Harper's pin from inside her robe and pressed it into his hand. "Please deliver that to her with the message that our lives may depend on a swift audience-and perhaps the fate of Cormyr's growing season, as well."

"Harpers?" The sergeant barely glanced at the pin. "Why didn't you say so?"

He turned and vanished into the palace, then returned a moment later with a gangly, horse-faced man in a scarlet cape and purple sash of office. The newcomer returned Ruha's pin and waved them into the palace's grandiose reception hall-so large that, after crawling through the entrance, even Aris could stand upright.

"Welcome. I am Dauneth Marliir, Her Majesty's High Warden," the man said. "I'm sorry for the delay, but we have learned to be cautious with information about Her Majesty."

"We understand," Ruha said, returning the pin to its place. "I am Ruha-" "Yes, I know." Dauneth flashed a big smile.

Galaeron ignored him and looked down the long arcade of pillars, where he was disappointed to see more Shadovar than humans polishing and buffing.

Dauneth continued to speak with Ruha. "There are not many Bedine witches in the Harpers."

"Only one, I am certain," Ruha laughed. She waved a hand at Galaeron. "This is Galaeron Nihmedu."

Dauneth's brow rose in shock, but he managed to recover himself. "Well met, Galaeron. I have heard of your bravery." He extended a hand and clasped Galaeron's wrist in the human fashion. "Prince Rivalen tells me that his father has been most concerned since your disappearance."

"Yes, I'm sure he has," Galaeron replied, surprised by the coldness in his own voice. "He has good reason to be."

Dauneth's brow rose, prompting Ruha to say, "It is related to our visit" She half turned to wave at Aris. "And this is-"

"Aris of a Thousand Faces," Dauneth finished. He paused and bowed deeply. "When the palace is finished, Myrmeen intends to display one of your pieces, The Descent of the Shadow Army,' here in the lobby."

"She does?" The giant's jaw dropped. "How did she come by it?"

Dauneth smiled enthusiastically. "A gift from Prince Rivalen, of course."

The High Warden led the way down a stately side corridor toward a pair of well-guarded double doors, and Galaeron's heart fell. He could see already that Rivalen and his gifts had won the hearts of the Cormyreans, that he had no chance whatsoever of winning Alusair's confidence. Soon, he would either be dead or on his way back to the enclave, and after seeing how close his shadow self had come to getting Aris killed, he knew which he was going to choose. He wanted nothing more than to use his shadow magic to do a sending to Vala and apologize for how he had parted, to let her know that, in the end at least, he had come to his senses and died thinking of her.

And he would have liked to apologize to Takari Moon-snow, as well, for refusing what she had offered. He had always known on some deep level that they were spirit mates and, because of that, assumed she would always be with him, but when he had chosen to help Vala instead of her in the final battle against Wulgreth, he had wounded her more deeply than any lich could have. He knew there could be nothing between them but pain. For the rest of her life, whenever she thought of him, it would fill her with feelings of betrayal and loss.

How could he have been such a coward? Perhaps there had always been a shadow on his heart because of his fear of following it-because in trying to avoid his own pain, he had inflicted it on others. Certainly his father had never turned his back on his feelings. He had loved Morgwais completely from the moment he had met her, all the years they had lived together in Evereska and all the years she had lived apart in the High Forest, and if her absence had caused him anguish, their love had given him the strength to endure it without bitterness or regret.

They reached the double doors and were admitted at once. Aris had to hunch his shoulders to squeeze through this entrance, but inside lay the palace's formal audience hall, with an arched ceiling high enough that the giant could still stand upright by walking down the center of the aisle.

In a raised throne at the far end sat a striking woman with oak-brown eyes and amber hair, one arm resting on her knee as she conversed with a huge Shadovar beside her. Even had Galaeron not glimpsed the man's golden eyes and ceremonial fangs, he would have recognized Prince Rivalen by his immense shoulders and narrow waist. Next to the throne and a little behind it stood an elderly, tired-looking man in a voluminous robe and long white beard who could only be Cormyr's royal wizard, Vangerdahast. Adjacent to him stood the final member of the little group, a statuesque woman with dark hair and eyes as blue as a mountain lake. Dauneth stopped opposite the throne and presented Galaeron and his companions, introducing the woman on the throne as the Steel Regent of Cormyr, Princess Alusair Obarskyr, and the one on the floor as Myrmeen Lhal, the King's Lord of Arabel.

When she was introduced to Aris, Myrmeen's eyes sparkled, showing flecks of gold almost like an elf's.

"I'm a great enthusiast of your work, Master Aris." She gestured to Rivalen, who was studying the group with a forced smile and said, "The prince has gifted me with The Descent of the Shadow Army'. I intend to display it prominently in the lobby."

"It will be an honor," Aris said with a certain practiced ease. "I only hope it will do your palace justice."

"It will make my palace," she said. "The way you impart a sense of the army's whirling descent while using the veserab wings to support the enclave is pure magic. But I find a hint of menace in how the riders fan out at the bottom, as though you found the coming of the Shadovar just a little frightening."

"You are very perceptive, Milady." Aris glanced in Rivalen's direction, then added, "Were I to do the same sculpture today, there would be more than a hint of menace."

"Really?" Myrmeen furrowed her brow. "I was under the impression you were quite content in the city of Shade."

"So were we," Rivalen said smoothly, "but we understand how temperamental artists can be. If Aris was unhappy, we would have been glad to transport him to any place he wished. There was no need for him to brave the desert with these thieves."

"We are not the thieves in this room," Galaeron began. "The Shadovar-"

"Myrmeen did not ask you to speak," Princess Alusair said, raising a hand to cut him off. She moved to the edge of her seat and addressed Rivalen. "So what'd they steal?"

Vangerdahast laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Princess, this matter really has nothing to do with Cormyr."

Alusair scowled. "They're in Cormyr now, Vangey." Her glance strayed in Myrmeen Lhal's direction ever so briefly, then looked back to Prince Rivalen. "At least I think it's still Cormyr."

"Shade would not recognize any other claims to Arabel," Rivalen said, not rising to the bait, "and we would certainly be very grateful if you would return these thieves to Shade Enclave for judgment by the Most High."