The Dragon's Doom

The scramble for the lone door was as frantic as it was fearful, and Ingryl Ambelter barely had time to smile before he was using the Dwaer to draw the door firmly closed behind the last fleeing priest.

He spell-sealed that door for time he needed to conjure a floating mirror in the air before him, work a very complex and exacting magic on himself, study his reflected result critically, and make a few adjustments.

When he banished the mirror, unsealed the door, and turned to face it once more, a stealthily invisible shielding-spell gathering strength around him, the Spellmaster of All Aglirta sported a green-scaled snake's head in place of his own. He flashed his yellow eyes with a smile, tasted the air with his flickering forked scarlet tongue, and waited for the new group of priests to appear.

If he served all of the Lords of the Serpent the same deadly fate, priest after priest, he could hardly help but become the Great Serpent in truth. Well, he'd always been good at crafting magics against poisons and venoms-and it was a better way than many of gaining the throne of Aglirta.

The mists fell away, and the world around them had changed. They stood in a high-vaulted, arch-windowed chamber hung with rich tapestries, a floor of gleamingly smooth marble beneath their feet. Guards in bright-polished silver armor whirled around to face them, glaives flashing in their hands as they dipped. Their wielders gasped, straightened again, and bowed their heads. The nearest one said swiftly: "Fair greeting, Lord and Lady Overdukes."

"Fair greeting, Braeros," the Lady Silvertree replied gravely, for all the world as if she wore naught but a nightrobe, sash, and boots every day, and customarily went about the world collecting unlovely and aging naked men. "Where bides the King?"

"In the Southern Sunchamber, Lady," the guard replied swiftly, "with the Lord and Lady Delcamper."

Embra nodded her thanks and the overdukes hastened to the southern doors of the room, with Hulgor padding along barefoot in their midst frowning and asking Flowfoam around him, "Lady Delcamper? Has the lad married, then? Why, the scamp! To manage a courtship without laying a hint of it amongst us, his dearest kin…"

As they trotted along a passage, crossed a larger, grander one, and mounted a broad flight of stairs, servants and courtiers alike cast swift, startled glances at the unclad stranger among the four hurrying overdukes, and then as quickly looked away again and continued about their business.

Craer took silent note of those few who froze and then hastily ducked away in a different direction than they'd been proceeding-and as they turned on a landing of Axehelve Stair, he laid a hand on the arm of the duty page of drat stair, and murmured, "Suitable garb for this noble lord who accompanies us, with a dresser and a screen, to the Southern Sunchamber, before I draw twenty breaths more."

The page bowed and raced off down the steps as the overdukes proceeded, passing several pairs of stern and watchful guards, and entered the Sunchamber.

A small ring of guards faced outward in a corner of that large, bright, and mostly empty hall. Within the ring of sentinels, three folk sat at one end of a table that had chairs for six, talking earnesdy: King Raulin Castlecloaks of Aglirta, and-

"Flaeros, you young rogue!" Hulgor roared, lumbering forward with his arms flung wide. The guards lowered their glaives menacingly, even as Hawkril bellowed, "Blades aside and rest easy, all!" and the bard stood up and gasped, "Uncle Hulgor!"

The guards glanced away from the onrushing, naked graybeard to their king, and Raulin gri

"Orele, graul you! Gel, I thought the maids'd been a trifle more on both the lazy and frisky side this last while! Well, by all the watching stars and gods-"

And then Flaeros and his uncle slammed together in an unruly bear hug, and Hulgor's words were lost in roaring laughter. The older Delcamper shook Flaeros, ruffled his hair, and men scooped him off his feet and carried him like a featherweight child's doll to where the Lady Orele waited demurely-and swept her up into the same jovial embrace.

Crushed against his overweight nakedness, the wrinkled Lady of Chambers clung to her cane as the guards watched, some of them gri

Hulgor bellowed laughter into her face, making her wince visibly, and then held Orele out dangling at the full stretch of his arm. "Well, now, Old Wrinkles, ye still look as slyly beautiful as ever, under all mat starch and sharp tongue! Why, graul me if-"

"Lord Hulgor," the aging servant said primly, "at your age you should be very aware that 'tis less man seemly for men of your station and present lack of dress to go about accosting servants of any gender, particularly mine. Have you misplaced your dresser? Or left some wench in such rude haste that your garments remain strewn about her bedchamber, perhaps?"

"Uh, the Lord's dresser," the breathless page a

"Ah, now, Sweethips, 'tis not like that at all! Why, not a-"

Lady Orele was shorter and far more slender than the Lord Hulgor, but her present position in midair placed her feet at a most effective height for dealing with accosting lords. She made use of that situation now, abruptly.

The Lord Hulgor a

Flaeros gazed at her, shaking his head slightly, before turning to the king and saying, "Your Majesty, may I present the Lord Hulgor Delcamper?"

The wincing, naked man glanced up from his pain and gasped, "Ah, yes, ye'd be Raulin. Charmed."

The king took Hulgor's hand and chuckled. "Likewise. Be welcome in Flowfoam, and at all our councils. Nice fashion statement, but one I hope few of my courtiers will adopt." He hesitated, and then added with a grin, "Save perhaps the Lady Factor of Sart, Florimele, and-"

"Not now, Raulin," Embra Silvertree told him warningly. "You know such public revelations will only lead to trouble. Florimele's mind is far less lovely than her skin, believe me." She turned and gave Craer a hard look. "And before you say something clever, Lord Delnbone, 'tis none of your business and irrelevant anyway, so ask not how much experience I've had of either." She turned her head again. "Lord Hulgor, is our bargain fulfilled?"

Dressers were swarming around Hulgor Delcamper, and his face was still creased with pain, but he managed a nod, a smile, and the words, " 'Tis indeed."

Embra nodded, and turned to her three companions. "Then, Overdukes, we've an unfinished task and a Stone to accomplish it with." She drew off her boots, thrust them through her sash, and stroked her bare feet across the marble floor, nodding as she felt the old Living Castle enchantments stirring. Then she held up the Dwaer. "Let's try again to trace the Dwaer my father holds."

Hawkril promptly turned to the page and growled, "Proper garments for the Lady Silvertree, here in haste!"

"A moment," the Lady Talasorn added, as the lad rose out of a florid bow to race for the doors. "Bring also, from the chambers I share with the Lord Craer, the belt with three pouches on it. Open none of them, mind, unless painful death beckons you strongly this morn."