Dave Gross: Lord of Stormweather

"I have here a list of names," cried Andeth, receiving a scroll from Drakkar. "Names of those who would seek to undermine the lawful order of the city of Selgaunt in its charter from the Overmaster of Ordulin-What? What do you think you're doing?"

Tamlin had leaped up from his seat and stood upon the long table. The cloak that enhanced his flying spells billowed up to give him a grace and drama far beyond Ilchammer's flamboyant gestures.

"Alas," said Tamlin, adopting Ilchammer's officious tone, "I suffer from an unfortunate incapacity to endure transparent attempts to obfuscate the efforts of a corrupt functionary to subjugate the will of the rightful leaders of Selgaunt."

The Hulorn gasped, but at the same time his face brightened in an expression of delight and admiration. He looked like a man who'd just learned that the entertainment he was about to enjoy was in fact his favorite opera.

"What brave talk from the son of the man who engineered the very sedition we have come to consider here today."

"Spare us, Mad Andy," said Tamlin. The assembled nobles gasped at the young man's audaciousness. "I grow weary of your nattering. You know as well as anyone how easily bored I am, especially at so shallow a charade."

Drakkar choked so hard that Tamlin expected to see one of the man's eyes pop from its socket.

"How dare you speak to me in such a manner!" blustered the Hulorn.

Despite himself, he couldn't keep the smile from his face. Tamlin could see that he was enjoying the play. Unfortunately, the rest of the Old Chauncel took umbrage at the young upstart's blatant show of disrespect. Only a few kept their emotions in reserve, while the rest babbled on about insolence and respect for one's elders. Even some of those whom Thamalon had entrusted with his scheme turned coat to back the stronger horse. Tamlin silently noted them for future consideration while the Hulorn shook his scroll at him.

"I have evidence!"

"You do," said Tamlin. "I concede it. My father plotted to have you removed from office, confident that the city would prosper in your absence."

Andeth stared down the table at Tamlin, astonished. Tamlin winked at him. Let him wonder what that meant.

"Then you must realize," interjected Drakkar, "that the penalty for your father's treason is forfeiture of all Uskevren holdings and properties."

The wizard turned his head in a dramatic gesture indicating all of the trappings of the feast hall, but everyone could see that his eyes lingered longest on Larajin. She returned his gaze with a steady stare of her own, one that promised a response to his leering threat, and not the one he craved.

"I realize that is the price of an unsuccessful coup," replied Tamlin, "and thus, I am moved to call for an immediate vote among the assembled body. I move that the Hulorn, Andeth Ilchammar, Lord Mayor of Selgaunt, is unfit for office on grounds that he has employed assassins to murder members of this very assembly."

The silence that followed Tamlin's declaration was heavy enough to push Drakkar and his master down into their seats. It lingered for long seconds after Tamlin stopped speaking.

Presker Talendar bolted up from his seat and said, "I second Lord Uskevren's motion and demand an investigation into the Hulorn's contacts."

Andeth cocked his head at Presker, his narrowing eyes promising that Tamlin wasn't the only one marking adversaries this day.

"You have no evidence!" barked Drakkar. "There is no evidence!"

"Ah, I was hoping you would say that," replied Tamlin. He walked to the center of the table and gestured up to the balcony. "Master Malveen?"

Pietro Malveen rose timidly from the shadows, trembling either from the effects of his drugs or else from fear to see such august company assembled below him. He clutched the railing to steady his hands.

"It is true," he said. "Ilchammar commissioned me for those paintings he had sent to the ones who disappeared. I did not know he had them enchanted to trap-"

"Hearsay!" shouted the Hulorn. Still he couldn't keep the wild grin from his face. He'd never seemed so full of glee and life, not during his most antic introduction of a queer new opera nor a distressing gallery of avant-garde paintings. "Balderdash, of course. It goes without saying. These are groundless accusations, inadmissible in any court. Who can testify to seeing any such 'magic paintings?' "

"I can," called Thamalon's voice. "For I fell victim to one and would remain trapped if not for the valiant efforts of my son."

"So can I," added Shamur. "If our sworn testament is insufficient in your judgment, we have also identified the ghost of a man slain by the Hulorn's own assassin. The clerics can compel him to bear witness to the schemes of Andeth Ilchammar and his minion, Drakkar."

"I am not a minion!" snapped Drakkar.

"Oh, bugger it all," laughed Andeth. "It looks like a fight after all, doesn't it?"

As one, the Old Chauncel pushed back their seats and stood away from the table. To either side of Andeth and Drakkar, the Hulorn's guards drew their weapons and formed a defensive line around their charges.

"Where are you going?" asked the Hulorn. He drew a twisted wand from inside his cloak and waved it at the assembled company. "You pretentious fools don't really expect us to let you stand aside while we resolve this issue, do you? You have your part to play, even if all you ever do is talk, talk, talk!"

Drakkar was already chanting his own spell as the Hulorn spread his foul magic across the hall. A ghastly green vapor coalesced in a line from the Hulorn to Tamlin's seat. It rippled along the table, spilling over to either side to touch the assembled nobles.

Tamlin flew up to the ceiling to avoid its effects, noting that Tazi had already faded into the shadows, and Larajin raised a warding hand before her face as she clutched the two-faced medallion of her goddesses.

On the floor, the noblemen began to melt, their bodies sinking like collapsed tents over their suddenly disjointed bones. Their flowing flesh melded and mingled, leaving behind their garments as a snake might shed its skin.

Throughout the horrid transformation, their mouths continued to shriek, their eyes rolling and their teeth gnashing as they bit and spit at one another. Only Fendo Karn and Brimmer Soargyl scurried backward unchanged, apparently protected by hidden talismans.

Tamlin whistled low and long.

"That was a dirty thing to do, Mad Andy. It will take us days to get that out of the carpet."

He flicked his fingers at the Hulorn, sending five crimson darts at the man's face. Ilchammar dispelled them with a dismissive wave of his hand. Upon one of his fingers, one of a ring of six topazes flashed and turned dark.

"Witty," the Hulorn replied. "If I had known you would prove so amusing, Thamalon the Lesser, I would have invited you to join my little coterie long ago."

From the floor in front of Drakkar, a night-colored stallion rose from a ring of fire. The conjured horse-fiend reared and stamped at the gibbering mass of mouths and eyes upon the floor.

Drakkar pointed at Tamlin, and the nightmare leaped upon the long table, leaving burning hoofprints in the polished oak surface. Before it could rear up to strike at its hovering target, a huge figure leaped down upon its back, gripping its fiery mane and pulling its head back.

"You told me he was dead!" Andeth spat at Drakkar.

"So I was informed," protested the wizard.

Astride the nightmare, Talbot hissed at the burns on his hand and legs, but he raised a gigantic sword and struck a glowing wedge out of the creature's neck. Molten blood oozed from its wound, and the demon horse stumbled off the table, falling into the hungry mouths on the floor. Talbot leaped clear with an actor's flourish and turned to hack at the fallen nightmare before it could rise again.