D& D - Mystara 02 Dragonking of Mystara

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  "But I knew I wouldn't want it forever," Solveig remarked. "In fact, I've been thinking a good deal lately that my time as Solveig White-Gold is coming to an end. Valeria Dorani is anxious to have a turn, but I'm not ready to go back to Thyatis. So when I began to think about home, I knew this was the place I had to come to."

  "This will always be your home whenever you want it," he told her sincerely. "But I don't know just how close you would want to be with the Dragonlord. I'm not even human, and I apparently have a rather dire fate before me."

  "Still, you have grown so. I like the person you've become," Solveig said, then glanced at him. "Someone else said that to you before as I recall. Do you ever think of that elf girl?"

  "Sellianda? I think of her a good deal, not so much for the ties we never had but because she was the only one who ever seemed to honestly desire my company in that way. But she is an elf. She belongs to her quiet order and her deep woods, and I'm not so sure that she would really want to be a part of my life. I'm afraid that someday my duty will take me places where none of my old friends can follow."

  Many carriages were drawn up in the main yard of the palace by the time they arrived, and more were still arriving. Like Thelvyn and Solveig, many of the guests who lived closer had walked. King Jherridan had cleverly conspired to have the reception for Lord Derrick Mortrand, the ambassador from Darokin, take place on the same night as the Flaemish Summer Festival, so that the entire city would be celebrating. In addition, he had invited every wealthy merchant and dignitary to be found in Braejr.

  According to Flaemish custom, Ambassador Mortrand stood at the main door of the palace with his host to greet the guests as they arrived. Both Lord Derrick and the king failed to recognize Solveig in spite of her remarkable height. Jherridan didn't even seem to recognize Thelvyn for a moment, it had been so long since he had dressed formally. Indeed, as they joined the gathering crowd, Thelvyn found that many other people failed to recognize him. Part of this could be blamed on Solveig, who was so striking and compelling that she provided a considerable distraction.

  Byen Kalestraan stood just beyond the king and the ambassador, looking especially wizardly in one of his finest robes, which had an especially high, stiff collar, trimmed with gilt. He looked surprised when he saw Thelvyn. "Well, lad. I hardly recognized you with shoes on. I wasn't aware that you would be dressing formally for this occasion."

  "I didn't decide myself until very recently," Thelvyn admitted.

  "It becomes you indeed, but I am fearful for your safety. You must take special care." The wizard seemed to notice Solveig for the first time and reacted with great delight. He bowed to her gallantly. "Pardon me, but I fear that I do not know your most remarkable companion."

  "Solveig White-Gold," she introduced herself. "It's been a long time since we met."

  "It has indeed," Kalestraan agreed. "I must say that the two of you make a striking couple, and remarkably well suited for each other. I'm pleased to see Thelvyn finally enjoying the company of a lady worthy of the Dragonlord."

  "He has spent too much time with his dragon," Solveig agreed graciously. "And now if you will excuse us . . . ?"

  She led Thelvyn away into the crowd. Thelvyn was beginning to feel a bit nervous about this evening, unsure if Solveig's interests were sincere or if she was just teasing him and the Flaemish worthies at the same time. He knew how wicked she could be, playing out her jests for hours, even days at a time, all the while concealing her amusement. Thelvyn couldn't believe that her interest in him could be serious, knowing the differences that stood between them. They had been more like brother and sister for the duration of their long friendship. Thelvyn had to admit that he was tempted; the fact that he had been avoiding female company didn't meant that he was uninterested, although he was far from certain that Solveig was the right female.

  If nothing else, he was determined to be cautious. He suspected that the ultimate objective of her jest, if indeed it was a jest, was to get him to make a fool of himself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  According to Flaemish custom, the reception began with a formal dinner, followed by a time of quiet conversation at the table while minstrels played soft music. Thelvyn and Solveig were seated near the head of the king's table, reflecting Thelvyn's new standing as a favored advisor. Mage Kalestraan sat across from him, having come to the table late and looking rather distracted about something. After a time, Jherridan rose to address the gathering, introducing the new ambassador to the guests with a few appropriate words. His words were few indeed, since the Flaem had never been in the habit of making long speeches. When Lord Derrick thanked them all with a few words of his own, mostly concerning the fine hospitality of his guests and his belief that his stay in the Highlands would be a productive one for all concerned, Jherridan followed the ambassador's lead and made his own concluding speech a brief one.

  With such necessities out of the way, the guests retired from the dining hall to the reception hall, where music was

  provided for dancing. Side tables were laden with various drinks and pastries to suit almost anyone's taste. Because the back of the palace stood directly against the western wall of the city, all the courts and gardens were in the front. The reception hall was open to the court and the palace garden, so that guests could step outside for some fresh air, and later to witness the fireworks provided by the wizards for the Summer Festival. Thelvyn and Solveig retreated to a quiet corner inside the reception hall, waiting until things settled somewhat.

  "Would you like to dance?" Solveig asked suddenly.

  Thelvyn was surprised at the suggestion. "I suppose. I'm not very good at it, since hardly anyone ever wants to dance with the Dragonlord."

  "Well, I learned in my time in Thyatis that hardly anyone wants to dance with me either," she said. "I suppose my size is intimidating. So we might as well have a dance or two together, since no one else will have us."

  In fact, they danced four dances in a row, mostly because Thelvyn was so inexperienced that he needed the first three just to learn what he should be doing. After that, the musicians began to play the more complex and stately dances common to the south, and Thelvyn was forced to take refuge from the dance floor. Solveig excused herself to get a drink and also to snoop about, to get some feel for the local politics. For all her protestations that she had left Thyatis to get as far away from politics as she could, she seemed eager to involve herself once again. She had only just left when Thelvyn was approached by Merissa Mor-trand, the ambassador's daughter.

  "Your friend seems to have abandoned you," she observed. "Do you need someone to dance with you?"

  "I'm afraid I'll have to excuse myself. I'm not much good at these courtly dances," he told her, feeling awkward. "Solveig went to get some liquid refreshment."

  "She seems quite attached to you," Merissa said, speaking more directly.

  "If you must know, she's showing off," Thelvyn explained, dropping his voice. "You see, she's always suspected that the king is a bit enamored of her. She stays

  close to me so that he respects her privacy."

  "But surely the king is a desirable match for anyone."

  "That's just the point," he said even more softly. "You see, the king is young and of an age when he needs to think about marriage. Solveig is just a humble barbarian orphan, her past unknown. She might be very remarkable and striking, but there would be no advantage to King Jherridan or the realm in a marriage with her. So, for the greater good, Solveig distances herself from the king so that other, more worthy young ladies may have their chance to know him better."

  "Oh ... I see," Merissa remarked thoughtfully. "Then you and Solveig are not intimate?"

  "No, though we have slept together," he told her evenly. Thelvyn knew that was stretching the truth considerably. They hadn't slept together for years, and never in the same bed. Besides, there had usually been a dwarf in the room at the same time.

  Merissa blushed deep red and disappeared back into the cro
wd widiout another word. She had taken Thelvyn's hint in exactly in the manner he had intended—not that he had fooled her in the least, he was sure. She put up a pretense of being silly and superficial, since that was the custom of young ladies in Darokin.

  Solveig returned a moment later with a cup of sweet elvish wine for Thelvyn. "What did her ladyship want?" she asked.

  "She wanted to know how matters stand between us," he replied. "I discouraged her with some tactical exaggerations and sent her after Jherridan, who seems to suit her better anyway."

  "I'm not so sure it will suit Jherridan," Solveig commented. "At least I see I don't have to worry about you anymore."

  She disappeared into the crowd again. Thelvyn had to agree with her that King Jherridan was so devoted to his duties as the first King of the Flaem in two thousand years that he had never been very concerned with personal matters such as marriage. A few minutes later, Kalestraan came quietly up behind him. The wizard was watching the gathering with a distant eye, the way that one would admire a painting or watch a play.

  "You seem not to want for companionship tonight," he remarked.

  "Too much, actually," Thelvyn said. "I made certain that Ambassador Mortrand's daughter was aware of how matters stand with me, then sent her hunting in the king's direction. That's what she wants anyway."

  "The king?" Kalestraan asked, seemingly confused.

  "I certainly hope there's no rule that the king cannot marry a foreign lady," he explained. "The realm needs to strengthen its ties with the rest of the world, especially if you people are serious about going after the Alphatians. Merissa may not be a princess, but I know that Lord Derrick is one of the most influential men in Darokin, and he seems to approve of the match. And I must admit that Jherridan isn't likely to do much better, being the king of a rather small and remote northland realm."

  "Yes, I see your point," Kalestraan agreed, although he still looked rather puzzled. "You've done well, then. Perhaps now we should just let matters proceed as they will, so that we may weigh the possibilities when they are set before us."

  The wizard wandered away, leaving Thelvyn even more bemused than ever. He had forgotten for the moment that the political affairs of the Highlands and the personal affairs of King Jherridan were not his concern. At least his intentions had been good; such an alliance probably would be to the benefit of both the king and the realm, and Jherridan wasn't very likely to do any better. A few minutes later he spied Jherridan himself coming toward him through the crowd. He realized he should have been expecting it. The game was far from over.

  "There are times when I wonder why I ever wanted to be king," Jherridan said wearily.

  "The ambassador's daughter?" Thelvyn asked.

  Jherridan frowned. "Didn't I see her after you earlier?"

  "Perhaps," Thelvyn admitted. "I suppose I should warn you. I get the impression that Merissa is not fishing in these waters entirely on her own initiative. I suspect

  Lord Mortrand is interested in some kind of alliance with Darokin by marriage with his daughter, and I needed to make my position clear. When my duty as Dragonlord leads me away from here, it will be to places where someone like Merissa cannot follow. Frankly, both she and her father are more interested in an alliance with you anyway."

  Jherridan sighed loudly. "I'm aware of what an alliance with a powerful nation could mean for the Highlands. Indeed, I had been thinking for some time now that perhaps I should be having you discreetly solicit for such an alliance. I suppose that this would be an advantageous union for us. I just wish she wasn't such a silly twit."

  Thelvyn nearly choked to keep from laughing. "It is the custom in certain parts of the world for young ladies to attempt to present themselves as simple and innocent, which is seen as alluring."

  "Do they indeed?" Jherridan was greatly surprised. "Well, it does take all types to make the world, doesn't it?"

  The king sighed heavily once more and wandered back into the field of battle, although his heart didn't seem to be in the fight. Thelvyn retreated to the garden, certain that anyone would be able to find him if he was needed. He sat for a time on a bench near the fountain, watching the fireworks over the center of Braejr. As he had expected, Merissa came out to the garden only a few minutes later looking for him. In her mind, he seemed somehow to have made the transition from prey to fellow conspirator. She sat down on the bench beside him.

  "Having trouble?" he asked.

  "The king danced with me twice," she explained. "I've tried, but we just don't seem to hit it off."

  "Well, have you tried talking to him like a reasonable person?" Thelvyn asked. "You're going to find that the Flaem are not as sophisticated, as you would call it, as the people of Darokin. Jherridan is going to judge you by you yourself, not by how well you can play some game he doesn't understand."

  "So you think he finds me foolish and dull?" she asked.

  "King Jherridan is a remarkable man," Thelvyn said, deciding to butter the bread generously, as the dwarves would say. "He is sincere, devoted, and fair. But I suppose that in Darokin, such a man would be considered foolish and dull."

  "It might be said, but that doesn't necessarily mean it would be believed," Merissa said, kissing him on the cheek as she rose. "You're rather unique yourself."

  She hurried away into the palace, leaving Thelvyn alone once more in the darkness of the garden. Of all the things that had happened that night, he was most amazed with himself. He would have thought that a person needed to be experienced in courtly matters to play the role of the matchmaker effectively, but apparently any fool could pull it off. Perhaps the key was not being personally involved in the courting.

  After a time he made his way back to the party. Neither Jherridan nor Merissa had sought him out in some time, and he wanted to see how they were getting along. He was also concerned about how Solveig was entertaining herself with the worthies of Braejr. He saw Jherridan making the rounds of his guests, with Merissa close by his side. He also found Solveig mingling among the rounds of the guests. She was being charming and ingratiating in her own barbaric way, and everyone seemed quite taken with her, although she refused to dance with anyone but Thelvyn.

  Some time later, shortly before midnight, Solveig came looking for him. "It is said that in Alphatia's high society, it is considered a dishonor to be the first guest to leave a party. For that reason, their affairs often last most the night until someone finally weakens."

  "I can take a hint," Thelvyn assured her. "In fact, if I don't get out of these boots soon, I'm likely to be lame for weeks."

  They remained long enough to make appropriate farewells to the king and to the ambassador. Lord Derrick and his daughter both looked enormously pleased; their evening had apparently turned out very well indeed, as far as they were concerned. Jherridan was at least trying to look pleased.

  "I'll get you for this, Dragonlord," he whispered softly to

  Thelvyn.

  Thelvyn had almost forgotten that this was the night of the Summer Festival. Small groups of revelers still wandered the streets, and all the lanterns remained lit. Solveig remained in fine spirit, obviously quite pleased with herself and the way her evening had turned out, as they walked together through the streets.

  "You won't need to worry about unwanted attention from the ladies after tonight," she told him.

  "Well, I do worry about the impression you must have given people," Thelvyn said. "They'll be planning our wedding after this. And then what will they think when you disappear for months at a time with Sir George?"

  "You worry too much," Solveig said.

  Suddenly she stopped short. They had come to a place where a joining of streets made a square in the form of a tiny wooded park. Thelvyn glanced up, startled to see a tall man in a dark cloak carrying a drawn sword step out of the small stand of trees to block their way. Even as his heart sank, Thelvyn cursed the foolishness of his own vanity. He turned to see another tall, dark man standing some distance behind them, bloc
king their retreat. Thelvyn knew beyond a doubt that these were not late-night partygoers, or even petty thieves.

  Solveig reached over her shoulder and drew her sword as Thelvyn drew his own blade. Both were small ceremonial weapons and no match for the massive blades of the strangers.

  "I'm afraid I've been caught with my pants down, so to speak," Thelvyn said softly. "I can't get into the armor of the Dragonlord with these clothes on. At least I've had some practice fencing tonight."

  "They're not likely to be a match for us, are they?"

  Thelvyn hoped she was right. Although he and Solveig were both tall and strong and well trained in the skills of combat, Thelvyn still felt vulnerable without the enchanted armor. Years had passed since the last time he had been required to defend himself entirely by his own talents. And Solveig was wearing a fashionable party dress. They were at a distinct disadvantage.

  Thelvyn and Solveig stood back to back, each lacing one of the two tall, dark assassins who challenged them. Apparently Solveig had thought of all possible contingencies. She grabbed the soft material of her long, full skirt with one hand and gave it a firm tug. The skirt came away in a single piece below the gold belt. Beneath it she wore a much shorter skirt of the same dark green fabric, allowing her much greater freedom of movement.

  Thelvyn wished he could remove his own extra clothing as easily, but he suspected he wouldn't be allowed the time to remove even his sword belt or cape. There was certainly no chance for him to take off his boots without sitting down, and he wouldn't be able get into his armor until he had. He would have to depend upon his own abilities, without the enchantments of the Dragonlord. He felt vulnerable and uncertain, but he knew that this was no time to doubt himself.