At these words, Valian's head lifted from his arms. He eyed his leader curiously.
Tohr continued, "The real danger is Pyrothraxus. If he catches us without leadership, we might as well swing open the doors of this castle and invite him inside."
"Pyrothraxus is no threat to Castle uth Wistan, not yet," Liam interjected.
"How can you say that?" Tohr shouted. "Are you an even bigger fool than… " He paused, swallowing his words.
"Pyrothraxus didn't cross the border for a random attack. His destruction of Isherwood had a specific purpose, to stop Valian and his group. I imagine he thought they were at the castle and his attack would catch them inside, but he didn't know about the storm and their delay," Liam said. "When he is ready to confront us, he'll come here, yes, and strike at the heart of the Knighthood. So why is he threatening the unimportant border outposts?"
"Who can read the minds of these new dragons?" Tohr argued. "After all, he did assault Mount Nevermind without warning. We can't assume this is anything but the precursor to a full-scale onslaught, perhaps with the backing of a full draconian army. Have you thought of that possibility?"
"The draconians! It always comes back to the draconians," Meredith said. "If they are such a formidable army, why go to all the trouble of assassinating Lord Gunthar, and then scurrying around to hide that fact? Why hunt a poor stupid gully dwarf all over Sancrist? It doesn't make any sense to me."
"Nor to me. It's all the more reason to take firm control of this Knighthood here. Otherwise we are in confusion and vulnerable to attack," Tohr said.
Valian spoke up at this point. "Did I hear you say Lady Mirielle has been elected the new Grand Master?" he asked.
"Well, not officially. Lady Alya is still to vote for the Knights of the Lily, but it's a mere formality only," Quintayne said. "She already has enough votes."
"But until her vote is taken, no official proclamation can be made. Someone could still reverse his preference. Sir Valian is the next ranking member of the Order of the Lily; he could vote in her stead and bring closure to this matter," Tohr said.
Valian shook his head uncertainly, his elvish nature preventing a hasty decision. "I need more time to consider," he said. "I did not expect to cast such a momentous vote. I haven't thought my decision through."
"What is there to think through?" Tohr growled. "Your vote is meaningless, a mere formality."
"Then it won't matter if I take a day to think about it. I need time to consider," Valian returned. Though his voice remained calm, his eyes were flashing.
"You have twenty-four hours," Liam said. "We cannot wait much longer than that, whether or not Tohr is right about Pyrothraxus. We must call a general council at Whitestone to announce the decision."
Everyone rose to leave. A door opened and a page entered, awaiting a command. "No decision has been made," said Tohr. "Sir Valian is to cast the last vote tomorrow at Whitestone Glade. Spread the word."
The page turned to go, but Liam stopped him with an additional order. "When Lady Jessica and her group arrive, have her brought immediately to my chambers. Allow the others to refresh themselves, and tell the grooms that a dog and two gully dwarves will need dinner tonight." The page nodded and scurried away.
The Knights prepared to leave. With a final look at Tohr, Valian stalked away. As he passed, Tohr whispered, "Don't be a fool." Valian said nothing in return.
26
In the dark of the Sancrist night Dalian Escu walked the battlements of Castle uth Wistan. He wasn't on watch, and a good thing too. An army of goblins could have stormed the wall without his even noticing. His mind was elsewhere, walking in the dreamland forests of his elven childhood. In Silvanesti he'd been born, and there he'd died, when they banished him from the light. From that moment forward, no elf on Krynn was allowed to speak to him or even acknowledge his existence. His parents spoke of him as though he were already dead.
In Storm's Keep, the birthplace of the Knights of Takhisis, he'd been reborn. With the Knights of Takhisis, he found the family to which he so desperately needed to belong. Even so, they'd never completely accepted him. Now it seemed all he'd worked toward had been a lie, a carefully concealed deception. Where was the vaunted honor of the Knights of Takhisis? It lay in some draconian dungeon, wrapped in the vestige of a gully dwarf.
What had first alerted him? Had it in fact been with the surprising willingness of the leadership of the Knights to attempt a union with the Knights of Solamnia, their most bitter enemies? Or had it come later, at Isherwood, when Alya displayed a strange stubbornness to accept the existence of draconians on Sancrist Isle? Or was it some strange coincidence, by which Pyrothraxus chose to attack Isherwood, breaking the uneasy and undeclared peace?
Then there was Lord Tohr, displaying the same incomprehensible unwillingness to accept the fact of the existence of the draconian stronghold, and his pressure to conclude the vote to determine the leadership of the combined Knighthood. Sir Liam had been right. There was no real threat from Pyrothraxus; the dragon had been sent to destroy Jessica, the priest, and himself.
While he pondered these matters, Valian circled the entirety of the battlements, crossing over the gate by its postern walk. He passed above the stable yard, where Uhoh had lived, and he passed the place where Gunthar and Liam met on the battlements that first night, so long ago it seemed. He continued, his head bowed, his hands clasped behind his back.
A familiar voice brought him up short. He found himself very near the rooms of Lord Tohr. By the torchlight from the courtyard, he saw that a window was open to the chill night air, but dark drapes prevented any light from escaping. He heard Tohr's voice.
"Are you certain it will work?" Tohr was asking someone.
Valian stepped closer to the window to better hear.
"Of course, my lord. The potion was created before the Chaos War. Rest assured, once its magic has surrounded you, no human on Krynn can resist your charms. They will wish only to please you," a voice that was Trevalyn's answered.
Without warning Valian pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the room. "And how does it work on elves?" he asked. The Thorn Knight almost fell over himself in his surprise, but Lord Tohr's face remained calm, almost as though he'd been expecting Valian. He held in his scarred hand a tiny glass phial filled with a red liquid.
"I am glad you are here, Valian," he said in a pleasant voice as he placed the phial on the desk before him. "I've been meaning to talk to you, to bring you up to date on our situation here."
"If I were planning to usurp the Solamnics in their own castle, I'd at least have the sense to shut the window," Valian sneered.
"An oversight," Tohr said. "Very careless. Trevalyn, please close the window, won't you, so we don't have any more unexpected guests."
The Thorn Knight stepped behind the curtain and closed the window with a snap. He returned to Tohr's side, his hands folded in the sleeves of his gray robe.
"This has been the plan all along," Valian said.
"Actually, no. We fully expected Liam to be elected Grand Master. That's why Lady Mirielle didn't come herself. We thought it would take years for all our plans to develop, when we could place the scepter into the hands of one of our own. But now?" he shrugged. "His own men were surprisingly easy to win over. All I can say is, he took his chances. He lost in a fair vote."
"You're leaving out Gunthar's murder," Valian snarled. "Now we take through assassination and duplicity what we could not win in battle. Why wasn't I told?"
"You know the answer to that question. This is a political world, my friend," Tohr said. "Heroes don't ride silver dragons to glory anymore. They wade through the trenches of words, taking what they can and counting every small victory no matter how it is won."