Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (33 page)

trees whose intertwined branches formed a barren canopy above

them, for many of the leaves had dropped off. Lanterns of silver fil-

igree hung from the boughs, lighting the night. The ~ests left the

small amphitheater, moved to a table that had been set up beside a

reflecting pool, there to dine on sugared fruits and buttery short-

breads and to drink chilled wine.

Konnal invited the minstrel to partake of a late night morsel

and personally escorted the woman to the table. The elf named

Glaucous who had requested the song was already there, a cup of

wine in his hand. Raising a toast to the minstrel, he was lavish in

her praise.

" A pity you were not permitted to sing the song again," he

said, glancing in the general's direction. "I never tire of that par-

ticular melody. And the poetry! My favorite part is when-"

"Might I offer you food and drink, Madame?" the nephew

asked, responding to a nudge from his uncle.

The minstrel cast him a grateful glance and accepted his invi-

tation. He led her to the table, where she was graciously received

by the other ~ests. The grassy area on which Glaucous and the

general stood was soon empty. Although many of the guests

would have been pleased to bask in the the presence of the charm-

ing and attractive Glaucous and pay their share of flattery to Gen-

eral Konnal, they could tell at a glance that the general was angry.

"I don't know why I invite you to these parties, Glaucous,"

Konnal said, seething. "You always do something to embarrass

me. It was bad enough you requested she sing that piece, and

then to ask for it a second time!"

"Considered in light of the rumors I heard today," Glaucous

returned lan~idly, "I thought the song of Lorac Caladon most

appropriate."

Konnal shot his friend a sharp glance from beneath lowered

brows. "I heard. . ." He paused, glanced at his guests. "Come,

walk with me around the pond."

The two moved away from the other ~ests. Now free of the

constraint of the general's presence, the elves gathered in small

groups, their voices sibilant with suppressed excitement, eager to

discuss the rumors that were the talk of the capital..

"We need not have left," Glaucous observed, looking back

upon the refreshment table. "Everyone has heard the same thing."

"Yes, but they speak of it as rumor. I have confirmation,"

Konnal said grimly.

Glaucous halted. "You know this for a fact?"

"I have my sources among the kirath. The man saw him,

spoke to him. The young man is said to be the image of his father.

He is Silvanoshei Caladon, son of Alhana Starbreeze, grandson of

the late and unlamented King Lorac."

"But that is impossible!" Glaucous stated. "The last we heard

of the whereabouts of that accursed witch, his mother, she was

lurking about outside the shield and her son was with her. He

could not have come through the shield. Nothing and no one can

penetrate the shield." Glaucous was quite firm on that point.

"Then his arrival must be a miracle, as they are claiming,"

Konnal said dryly, with a wave of his hand at his whispering guests.

"Bah! It is some imposter. You shake your head." Glaucous

regarded the governor in disbelief. "You have actually swal-

lowed this!"

"My source is Drinel. As you know, he has the skill of truth-

seek," Konnal replied. "There can be no doubt. The young man

passed the test. Drinel saw into his heart. He knows more about

what happened to him than the young man does, apparently."

"S0 what did happen to him?" Glaucous asked with a slight

lift of a delicate eyebrow.

"The night of that terrible storm, Alhana and her rebels were

preparing to launch an all-out assault on the shield when their

camp was overrun by ogres. The young man went running to the

Legion of Steel to beg the help of the humans-witness how low

this woman has sunk-when he was dazzled by a lightning bolt.

He slipped and fell down an embankment. He lost consciousness.

Apparently, when he awoke, he was inside the shield."

Glaucous stroked his chin with his hand. The chin was well-

formed, the face handsome. His almond eyes were large and pen-

etrating. He could make no move that was not graceful. His

complexion was flawless, his skin smooth and pale. His features

were perfectly molded.

To human eyes, all elves are beautiful. The wise say this

accounts for the animosity between the two races. Humans-

even the most beautiful among them--cannot help but feel that

they are ugly by comparison. The elves, who worship beauty, see

gradations of beauty among their own kind, but they always see

beauty. In a land of beauty, Glaucous was the most beautiful.

At this moment, Glaucous's beauty, his perfection, irritated

Konnal beyond measure.

The general shifted his gaze to his pond. Two new swans

glided over its mirrorlike surface. He wondered how long these

two would live, hoped it would be longer than the last pair. He

was spending a fortune in swans, but the pond was bleak and

empty without them.

Glaucous was a favorite at court, which was odd considering

that he was responsible for many members of the elven court

losing their positions, influence, and power. But then, no one ever

blamed Glaucous. They blamed Konnal, the one responsible for

their dismissal.

Yet, what choice do I have? Konnal would ask himself. These

people were untrustworthy. Some of them even plotting against

me! If it hadn't been for Glaucous, I might have never known.

Upon first being introduced into the general's retinue, Glau-

cous had ferreted out something bad about every person Konnal

had ever trusted. One minister had been heard defending Por-

thios. Another was said to have once, when she was a youth, been

in love with Dalamar the Dark. Still another was called to account

because he had disagreed with Konnal over a matter of taxation.

Then came the day when Konnal woke to the realization that he

had only one advisor left and that advisor was Glaucous.

The exception was Konnal's nephew Kiryn. Glaucous made

no secret of his affection for Kiryn. Glaucous flattered the young

man, brought him little gifts, laughed heartily at his jokes, and

was effusive in his attention to him. Courtiers who courted

Glaucous's favor were intensely jealous of the young man.

Kiryn himself would have much preferred Glaucous's dislike.

Kiryn distrusted Glaucous, though the young man could give

no reason why.

Kiryn dared say no word against Glaucous, however. No one

dared say anything against him. Glaucous was a powerful

wizard, the most powerful wizard the Silvanesti had ever known

among their kind, even counting the dark elf Dalamar.

Glaucous had arrived in Silvanost one day shortly after the

dragon purge began. He was, he said, a representative of those

elves who served in the Tower of Shalost, a monument in western

Silvanesti, where lay the body of the druid Waylorn Wyverns-

bane. Although the gods of magic had departed, the enchantment

remained around the crystal bier on which the hero of the elves

lay enshrined. Careful not to disturb the rest of the dead, the

elven sorcerers, desperate to regain their magic, had attempted to

capture and use some of the enchantment.

"We succeeded," Glaucous had reported to the general. "That

is," he had added with becoming modesty, "I succeeded."

Fearing the great dragons that were decimating the rest of

Ansalon, Glaucous had worked with the Woodshapers to devise

a means by which Silvanesti could be protected from the ravages

of the dragons. The Woodshapers, acting under Glaucous's direc-

tion, had grown the tree now known as the Shield Tree. Sur-

rounded by its own magical barrier through which nothing could

penetrate to do it harm, the tree was planted in the Garden of As-

tarin and was much admired.

When Glaucous had proposed to the governor-general that he

could raise a magical shield over all of Silvanesti, Konnal had expe-

rienced an overwhelming sense of thankfulness and relief. He had

felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. Silvanesti would be safe,

truly safe. Safe from dragons, safe from ogres, safe from humans,

dark elves, safe from the rest of the world. He had put the matter to

a vote by the Heads of House. The vote had been unanimous.

Glaucous had raised the shield and become the hero of the

elves, some of whom were already talking about building him his

own monument. Then plants in the Garden of Astarin began to

die. Reports came that trees and plants and animals that lived

within the borders touched by the magical shield were also

dying. People in Silvanost and other elven villages started to die

of a strange wasting sickness. The kirath and other rebels said it

was the shield. Glaucous said it was a plague brought to their

land by humans before the raising of the shield and that only the

shield kept the rest of the populace from dying.

Konnal could not do without Glaucous now. Glaucous was

his friend, his trusted adviser, his only trusted adviser. Glaucous's

magic was responsible for placing the shield over Silvanesti and

Glaucous could use his magic to remove the shield anytime he

wanted. Remove the shield and leave the Silvanesti open to the

terrors of the world beyond.

"Mmmm? I beg your pardon? What were you saying?" Gen-

eral Konnal tore his attention from his swans, returned it to Glau-

cous, who had been speaking all this time.

"I said, 'You are not listening to me:" Glaucous repeated with

a sweet smile.

"No, I am sorry. There is one thing I want to know, Glaucous.

How did this young man come through the shield?" He lowered

his voice to a whisper, though there was no one within earshot.

"Is the shield's magic failing, too?"

Glaucous's expression darkened. "No," he replied.

"How can you be certain?" Konnal demanded. "Tell me hon-

estly-have you not felt a weakening of your power over the past

year? All other wizards have."

"That may be. I have not," Glaucous said coldly.

Konnal gazed at his friend intently. Glaucous refused to meet

his gaze and Konnal guessed that the wizard was lying.

"Then what explanation do we have for this phenomenon?"

"A very simple one," Glacous returned, unperturbed. "I

brought him through."

"You?" Konnal was so shocked he shouted the word. Many in

the crowd halted their conversations to turn and stare.

Glaucous smiled at them reassuringly and took hold of his

friend's arm, led him to a more secluded area of the garden.

"Why would you do this? What do you plan to do with this

young man, Glaucous?" Konnal demanded.

"I will do what you should have done," Glaucous said,

smoothing back the flowing sleeves of his white robes. "I will put

a Caladon on the throne. I remind you, my friend, that if you had

proclaimed your nephew Speaker as I recommended there would

be no problem with Silvanoshei."

"You know perfectly well that Kiryn refused to accept the po-

sition," Konnal returned.

"Due to misguided loyalty to his Aunt Alhana." Glaucous

sighed. "I have tried to counsel him on this matter. He refuses to

listen to me."

"He will not listen to me, either, if that is what you are imply-

ing, my friend," Konnal said. "And might I point out that it is

your insistence on maintaining the right of the Caladon family to

rule Silvanesti that has landed us in this stew. I am of House

Royal myself-"

"You are not a Caladon, Reyl," Glaucous murmured.

"I can trace my lineage back beyond the Caladons!" Konnal

said indignantly. "Back to Quinari, wife of Silvanos! I have as

muCh right to rule as the Caladons. Perhaps more."

"I know that, my dear friend," said Glaucous softly, placing a

soothing hand upon Konnal's arm. "But you would have a diffi-

cult time persuading the Heads of House."

"Lorac Caladon plunged this nation into ruin," Konnal con-

tinued bitterly. "His daughter Alhana Starbreeze took us from ru-

ination to near destruction with her marriage to Porthios, a

Qualinesti. If we had not acted quickly to rid ourselves of both

these vipers, we would have found Silvanesti under the heel of

that half-breed, dim-witted Speaker of Suns Gilthas, son of Tanis.

Yet the people continue to argue that a Caladon should sit upon

the throne! I do not understand it!"

"My friend," Glaucous said gently, "that bloodline has ruled

Silvanesti for hundreds of years. The people would be content to

accept another Caladon as ruler without a murmur. But if you put

yourself forward as a ruler, there would be months or even years

of endless arguments and jealousies, researchings of family histo-

ries, perhaps even rival claims to the throne. Who knows but that

some powerful figure might arise who would oust you and seize

control for himself? No, no. This is the best possible solution. I

remind you again that your nephew is a Caladon and that he