The look Vangerdahast favored her with was as sharp as a dagger, but Laspeera stood her ground, uncowed.
"In one thing, Vangey," she added. "You are getting old. Years back, you'd never have let any Obarskyr's behavior get you this angry."
"Angry, lass?" Vangerdahast snapped. "You misunderstand me. I'm just enjoying getting my blood up. Our Alusair at last is growing a backbone and turning into someone it's going to be fun crossing swords with-just as the realm needs her to be! That is my life's work, forget not!"
He started to pace. "First, this Dauntless-this conspirator for a young princess to work her mischief with! We must remove him far from her feckless royal grasp, faster than immediately. A good long mission elsewhere, of course… and as it happens, I have just such a task going begging. Bring him here."
Laspeera nodded. "By your command," she murmured sardonically, as she slipped back through the tapestries.
Her tone made Vangey flush-but he found himself glaring around an empty room.
"Overbearing old tyrant, am I?" he said, striding across the floor. A wall loomed up before him, and he spun around abruptly and marched back, pausing mid-stride to twist a ring on one of his fingers and announce to the empty air, "Tathanter Doarmund, make ready both the Halfhap portals and six horses-the latter with full field provisions, tents and all. You'll be escorting the six riders from the east doors of the Griffonguard Room to the portals, so after you've seen to those matters, I'll want you waiting outside those doors just as fast as you can get there."
Wizard of War Tathanter Doarmund's reply was inaudible from halfway across the Palace, but Vangerdahast heard it and turned again, nodding ever so slightly. Some folk in the realm still obeyed him with alacrity, it seemed.
It seemed doubly so, a moment later, when the open doorway showed him a sternly expressionless Ornrion Taltar Dahauntul marching toward him, with Laspeera striding along a pace behind.
Vangerdahast took a stance before the tapestries, matching the soldier's expressionless look, and waited. As Dauntless strode into the room, Laspeera softly closed the doots behind him, shutting herself out.
When the ornrion halted before him, Vangerdahast tendered a bright smile and said, "A mission has arisen that requires your amply demonstrated capabilities, Ornrion Dahauntul. You are to shadow the Knights of Myth Drannor, see that they truly leave Cormyr, find out where they go, and report back their location, wherever in Faerun they may be, when they show signs of settling down somewhere. If they split up or get involved in potential treason against the realm, you are to send some of the loyal Purple Dragons who will be accompanying you back to tell us, and redeploy your forces so as to lose track of not a single Knight. No Wizards of War shall be riding with you."
Dauntless frowned. "Lord Vang-"
"Neither of us has time for needless questions, Ornrion,"
Vangerdahast snapped. "You are to depart the Palace immediately, speaking to no one but the five men under your command-not. even personages of the Blood Royal-about this task. You will find mounts and provisions ready, and these men will be riding with you-"
The tapestries behind the Royal Magician were drawn apart then by unseen hands to reveal five Purple Dragons who were all too familiar to Dauntless: First Sword Aubrus Norlen, Telsword Ebren Grathus, Blade Teln Orbrar, Blade Hanstel Harrow, and Blade Albaert Morkoun. Dauntless managed not to groan, but it was a struggle.
"— to make sure that you don't try to speak with, say, a princess before you depart.* "Uh… yes, Lord," Dauntless said, watching the five veteran Dragons-lazy dolts all and notorious even as far afield as Arabel for being so-march stiffly around the Royal Magician to form a careful row behind him.
"You are all dismissed," Vangerdahast said. "Get going."
With a curt bow of his head, the ornrion grimly led the march, following the wizard's pointing arm. Vangerdahast was indicating the doors he'd come in by; rather sourly Dauntless flung them wide and strode out.
He was unsurprised to find a war wizard waiting in the passage outside. It was Tathanter Doarmund, whom he'd worked alongside a time or two before. Doarmund gave him a careful nod and gestured to Dauntless and the other Dragons that they should all follow him. Dauntless fell into step behind him, his five unwanted dolts at his heels.
His thoughts, as he went, were furious shouts in the burning silence of his mind.
One day, Royal Magician Vangerdahast, you will take a step too far, just one, and someone, someone, will pay you back in full for all your highhandedness, believe you me… and I will give much to be there and watch every bloody, broken moment of your fall. I and the jostling host of thousands who share the same hunger…
In the room behind the furious ornrion, the man he was silently cursing smiled at the marching men dwindling away down the passage.
A tapestry whispered aside, and a women stepped out from behind it, her stride as fluid as any dancer's. She was all sleek curves covered by supple oiled black leathers and crisscrossing weapon belts. There was a black metal gorget at her throat, and the black hilts of daggers bristled all over her body. Even above that gotget she looked dangerous; menace was awake and hungry in her large and dark eyes. Her sharp-featured face was bone white but framed with helm-bobbed hair of glossy jet black, and her smile was like the tip of a gently brandished sword blade.
Cormyr mustered few Highknights, and only a handful of them were women. The Lady Targrael was by far the most infamous of these, and for good reasons.
Gliding to a stop by Vangerdahast's shoulder, she said, "Shall I tarry to defend you, when little Princess Alusair hears of this and storms in here to break things over your head?"
"Your offer tempts me," Vangey said, "but no. I Can't trust yon six departing Dragons to use chamber pots without guidance and instructions. See that the Knights get out of Cormyr-in particular, that none of our over-clever nobles manage to speak with any of them and arrange anything. Once they're off our soil, I care not what happens to them. So long as I am not implicated."
Targrael smiled coldly, dark eyes glittering. "I am not that careless. I have my own score to settle."
Vangerdahast returned her less-than-lovely smile. "Precisely why I need to know your orders, in every detail, have been clearly understood."
"They are. In every detail." She strode past him. "I assume some of my garb has been enspelled so you can listen?"
"Of course. Yet it would be unwise to discard it, Ismra."
"I try to keep my unwise moments to a minimum, and I rarely work bare-skinned. You'll see that Baerem-?"
"He will be looked after more than properly. Cormyr neither forgets nor abandons those who have served her faithfully."
"So much, I know well," the Highknight replied as she went out, very carefully keeping her voice utterly neutral.
There was a hard, cross-ribbed cot under Florin. By the smell around him, he was in a cool, damp room of stone walls. Still in his armor but without the weight of his sword and daggers, he was lying sprawled on his back, as the probing hands of an experienced healer squeezed and gently moved his limbs, seeking breaks.
Florin felt no wrenching pain, just the many strong, surging aches of remembered agony. Echoes of pain, rippling through him. So he'd been healed already.
Florin kept his eyes closed, feigning senselessness. The voices above him had been saying something interesting-and folk who spoke so had a habit of abruptly ending such converse when an interested audience became evident.
"… no longer our problem. Once they depart here, Dauntless will be waiting in the eastern gate towers to take over their shadowing and see them clear of the realm."