D& D - Mystara 02 Dragonking of Mystara

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  "How remarkable," Thelvyn said. "I should have come to you for lessons in politics five years ago; my own life would have been a great deal less complicated. So what do you plan to do now? You seem to think you've plundered the situation for all it's worth. Do you think you might try to make yourself useful, or are you waiting to see what else you can get?"

  Alessa looked perplexed for a brief moment, then glanced up at him. "You think you can leave us in political disgrace?"

  "Putting the wizards in political disgrace is not my intention," he told her. "They've already done that to themselves. My intention is to change the way the realm is governed so that no one person or faction can ever again use this country for their own personal ambitions. And you can't oppose me. Whether or not you like to admit it, people still trust me more than they do the wizards. What remains to be seen is whether the wizards have a place in this new government or if they're to be excluded altogether."

  "And you never felt yourself capable of playing politics," Alessa said with a sigh. "What else can I say? I am perfectly aware of the magnitude of our disgrace, and they say that discretion is the better part of valor. Therefore the best thing for me is to be gracious in defeat and support you in your plans. Contrary to what you seem to think, I am not without devotion to my land or my people. We have a great deal to rebuild."

  "What about the Alphatians?"

  She frowned. "Like you, I always knew that we weren't ready to take on the Alphatians, and I'll not allow that to be one of my chief concerns. Your dragons have made any alliance against Alphatia nearly impossible for the foreseeable future. The dragons have so completely destroyed the Alphatian navy that they're no longer much of a threat anyway. No one believes there is a real need for an invasion of Alphatia anymore, and they want to keep their armies close to home. Ourselves included."

  "You had better keep looking for the Collar of the Dragons," Thelvyn added. "If you ever trusted me on anything, then believe the dragons will be back for it, and this time I won't try to stop them."

  *****

  The dwarves left early the next morning, following the trail of the Ethengar as they crossed the Aalban Bridge and marched toward the pass below the Colossus Mounts. The forces from Darokin also prepared to leave, having never once crossed the Areste River to enter the city of Braejr. With considerable numbers of wagons and cavalry and whole ranks of infantry, they needed half the morning to get themselves packed and organized, and it was shortly before noon when they were finally on the road.

  The departures of the various contingents of troops apparently satisfied the dragons, and the last of their numbers left late that same morning. Thelvyn went up to the city wall above the palace to watch them, rank upon rank of dragons rising from the woods beyond the fields and circling once before flying off toward the north. They made an impressive sight, a long column of dragons that seemed to take forever to pass. There appeared to be more dragons than there actually were, but he thought that only four or five hundred of their original two thousand were in this final group.

  The departure of the last of the dragons brought the siege of Braejr to a formal conclusion, and the city was at last able to begin a slow return to normal life. And life would indeed be returning to normal, but Thelvyn was not to be a part of it. He could almost laugh at himself for finding it a sad parting, considering how impatient he had been most of his life to be away from this land and its people.

  But it was still the only home he had ever known; here he had been everything from an unwanted orphan to a hero and then a king, and then full circle until he was unwanted once again. He thought that the time was ripe for him to leave.

  Still, he had to wonder if life in the Highlands would ever again be quite the same. He hoped that things might be better for what he had done, and especially for what he had yet to do before he surrendered the crown later that morning. While he had never wanted to be king, he had accepted that duty with a deep sense of responsibility. Whatever else, he was determined to leave the Highlands in better condition than when he had found it. That would be no small trick. The Flaem had always been in more danger from the wolves within their own fold than from any foreign enemy.

  He found Solveig waiting in his private chamber when he returned from watching the departure of the dragons. She had been looking into the single large trunk in the middle of the floor containing the possessions he had brought here when he moved from his house. Her interest was not idle curiosity; she seemed quietly dismayed.

  "I'm glad you could come early," he said, taking a seat at the desk. "I'll be going before the advisory council to declare my formal abdication this morning, and I have much to arrange."

  "I daresay," Solveig agreed, seating herself in the chair across the desk from him. "The council hasn't even begun its search to find a possible successor. If you abdicate now, the person you named in your will would have to take the crown."

  "I've never asked you what you think of all this," he said, as if deliberately changing the subject.

  Solveig looked confused. "I'm not certain what I'm supposed to think. The Fire Wizards have had their feathers trimmed back so far that they won't recover any time soon, although they'll always remain a threat. Your new king had better be strong enough to handle them. At the same time, none of the dukes seem to want the throne. It would be easier for you to name your own successor. It's your right."

  "Any king I choose would be bound to inherit a share of the ill-will directed toward me," Thelvyn said. "In that respect, his authority would be weakened from the first. You've said yourself that the next king has to be strong enough to face his enemies. But I was wondering what your plans are now that Sir George and I will be leaving."

  "You might be welcome to leave as soon as you want, but you've tied me down with responsibilities to this council," she said. "After that, I have no idea. I won't be working with Sir George until he returns from wherever you take him, and I doubt that I can go with you. I suspect you'll soon be heavily involved in the private affairs of dragons. Are you going away soon?" she asked. "Are you planning to leave the Highlands to your named successor?"

  "I named you to be my successor."

  "Oh, that's clever," Solveig said sourly, then stared at him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  "Well, I do have an alternative plan," he said. "The alternative is to leave the Flaem without any king. As long as they have a king, the dukes and the Fire Wizards will always be fighting for power. At best, all they seem to be able to think about is finding trouble, like making war with enemies they can't hope to defeat."

  "That's certainly true."

  "I was thinking of a two-part council or parliament," Thelvyn continued. "A full-time assembly of elected representatives who would always be on hand here in Braejr to deal with common problems and unexpected difficulties. Then, at certain times of the year, the full assembly would meet, which would include the dukes or their surrogates and a representative of the wizards. They'd decide the major policies of the Highlands. The council would have a senior representative, comparable to the First Speaker of the dragons, who would act as the leader of the council and the representative of the Highlands in political affairs."

  Solveig looked a bit confused. "Why? You could just as well have a new king to lead the council."

  "I was thinking of the matter of implied power. A First Speaker would be more aware of his position as a keeper of trust. Anyone bearing the title of king might become too concerned with the powers usually associated with a king. The foundation for the system already exists. The advisory council can simply expand to become the new representative council."

  "What makes you think the Flaem will agree to this?" Solveig asked, still looking skeptical.

  "If they don't, I'll sit here in the palace until they search the Highlands for someone wise enough and honest enough to become king. I think we both know how long that might take."

  Thelvyn hoped his threat was only an idle one. The full story of his origin
was now generally known, and his popularity was lower than ever. Everyone had become firmly convinced that trouble with dragons had always followed him and would continue to do so wherever he went, and they wanted him out of their land as soon as possible. It was apparently a reaction he could expect anywhere he went. With the news that he would soon be moving out of the palace, various diplomats had been presenting themselves to him. They still respected the power of the Dragonlord, and they wanted to have him about if dragons ever threatened, but they made it clear that they preferred not to have him in their lands otherwise.

  Under the circumstances, the advisory council agreed with Thelvyn's proposal. They needed some time to work out the details of their new representative government, but they were prepared to assume nominal control of the Highlands until then. Much to her surprise, Solveig was elected to be the first Prime Minister of the Parliament of the Realm. She would remain in the house that Thelvyn was vacating. The palace was to be renamed the Hall of Parliament. For the time being, no one would live there except the staff and guards.

  The wizards remained unusually quiet through it all. Alessa Vyledaar had apparently taken Thelvyn at liis word. She hadn't opposed his plan but instead became one of

  Solveig's chief supporters. Thelvyn couldn't begin to guess whether or not she had really learned her lesson or if she was just biding her time until the wizards regained some of their lost popularity. He was certain, however, that if Alessa tried anything with Solveig, she was in for an unpleasant surprise.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Now that all other concerns were settled, Thelvyn abdicated quietly, without ceremony or speeches. He simply packed the last of his bags and moved back into his own house later that afternoon, together with Sir George and Solveig. Taeryn was eager to help and carried out all his possessions to the waiting cart, although he was obviously sad and concerned at the same time.

  "I don't care what people think," he insisted. "You're still the best king the Highlands could ever have."

  "I appreciate that," Thelvyn assured him, "although I'm sure others might disagree with that."

  "Yes, I know they would. But they're so busy talking, they don't bother to consider what they really think."

  At first Thelvyn was glad to be home again, although he soon found that there was little here to remind him of happier days. Kharendaen was gone, and the old warehouse remained dark and empty. He thought of a time when he had been proud to be the Dragonlord and travel throughout the known world with the dragon cleric. He had never

  felt much like the Dragonlord since she had left.

  Since he no longer had any staff on hand, Thelvyn had to cook dinner that night. The problem of finding a new staff would have to be Solveig's, and she would probably wait until he had left, since the people of Braejr believed trouble followed the Dragonlord wherever he went.

  "I can find help easily enough when you've gone," Solveig said as they sat together in the den that night. "I'm not sure why, considering how unpopular you are just now, but I seem to be rather popular. I think they would have made Sir George king if he had been willing to stay."

  "Not that I would want to be the king of these people," Sir George said. "If they ever found out what I am, it would absolutely be the end of them. They could never stomach the thought of another dragonkin on the throne."

  Thelvyn had been sitting back in his own chair, listening to the others talk. Sellianda was seated near him, also listening quietly. The old knight was contemplating a bottle of cherry liqueur as if it might be his last for some time, which, in fact, it could be. Solveig had poured herself an especially large glass of the stuff, which was surprising considering that she normally detested it. It seemed to indicate an awareness of just how much trouble she had bitten off that day.

  Thelvyn had been watching Solveig, knowing the problems she would have after he was gone. In some way, she seemed to have changed. When he had first met her years before, she had expressed disgust for politics. Perhaps it was because she was indeed older now. Solveig White-Gold the adventurer was no more; she was ready to become Valeria Dorani once again, the adopted daughter of one of the first families of Thyatis. For now, she seemed part of both the cold, quietly menacing barbarian woman and the calm, calculating empress.

  "Will you be staying here long?" Thelvyn asked her suddenly.

  Solveig looked confused, as if she hadn't thought about it. "I really don't know. It seems like as good a place as any, and the Flaem seem to want me. I might just stay here until I get tired of them or they turn on me, whichever comes

  first."

  "What about Darius Glantri?" Sir George asked. The young Thyatian had recently returned to his own land.

  "I'll have to see/' she answered vaguely. "But what about you, Thelvyn? I know that you want to find that dragon of yours."

  "Marthaen said Kharendaen would let me know what I must do next," Thelvyn replied. "I assume the Great One is guiding her. In the past, everything was always laid out before me, and it seems that it will continue to be so in the future."

  "That depends upon when your patron decides to put you back to work," Sellianda pointed out. "You waited five years for this turn of events. How long will you wait until the next one, and what will you do until then?"

  "Well, what about it, lad?" Sir George asked. "It seems to me that if we just take to the road and head north toward dragon country, Kharendaen should find us soon enough. What else is there?"

  Thelvyn turned to Sellianda. "Do you have any useful advice to offer?"

  "Sir George is correct," she told him. "The time has come for you to become more involved in the affairs of dragons. Tomorrow I must take you into the north."

  "But I thought that your duty here was done," Thelvyn said, confused.

  "I said I would stay with you until Kharendaen returns,"

  she said. "When you leave, I will go with you."

  *****

  Always mindful of such things, Sir George had kept very busy the last few days making certain that both his own wealth and Thelvyn's had been converted to a secure form and transferred into safekeeping in Darokin. Thelvyn had also arranged for the ownership of his house to be transferred to Solveig's name. She insisted on paying for it, having profited substantially over the last five years as Sir George's business associate, although Thelvyn wasn't concerned about that. Solveig was actually rather pleased with the thought that she was the only person in the world whose house had a guest room for a dragon.

  Thelvyn was glad Sir George didn't have to sell a house too, or they would have never gotten out of Braejr before the people of the town decided to help them on their way. Sir George reminded him that no one was going to try to cheat the Dragonlord, but he took the point. He insisted that he would be ready to go by the next morning.

  "You really don't have to go with me, you know," Thelvyn insisted. "I'm not sure the dragons are done trying to get rid of me permanently, and my company could be dangerous. You could stay here with Solveig, or return to Darokin and go back to your former life. At least it was relatively safe and comfortable."

  "Well, I'm not so certain of that," Sir George commented. "You'll always be involved with dragons, and I can't say that I've had my fill of them just yet. Besides, we're practically related—two dragons who never have been dragons, caught between two worlds and wanted by neither. You don't mind having me along, do you?"

  In fact, the need for Thelvyn to be out of Braejr no longer seemed quite as important as it had. Now that his departure was imminent, the wizards no longer felt the need to stir up sentiment against him. His departure from the palace and the formation of the new representative council had also provided something of a distraction. Indeed, the establishment of the new government of the Highlands had caught everyone by surprise, and once the people began to understand the reason for the change, they were inclined to be grateful to Thelvyn for finding a way to spare them the constant political battles between the king, the wizards, and the dukes. At
least Thelvyn wouldn't be leaving Braejr totally despised, after all that he had done to save the city. Being held in general suspicion and fear was depressing enough.

  Thelvyn was reminded oddly of his first adventures on the road with Sir George years before, when he had been a mere boy with no idea what to expect. This was the first time in a long while that he had felt the old familiar excitement about the prospect of adventure and travel, leaving behind all of his old dudes and concerns to face new challenges and responsibilities.

  Of course, Sir George's remarkable life had been spent with a whole sequence of companions and associates whose lives changed relatively quickly. From time to time, Thelvyn had heard many of their names and adventures— people like Sir David Southworth, Adrian Kelius, Roar Njalsson, and the master thief, Bartholomew Mellow. There had been the mage, Tennet, and the beautiful sorceress, Lerian, who may or may not have spent some time as Lady Kirbey. Sir George was deliberately vague on that account. All had eventually gone off on adventures of their own, some never to return. Others had simply grown too old for a life of adventure long before Thelvyn or Solveig had even been born.

  They awoke a couple of hours before dawn and went out to the stables behind the house to saddle their horses. Thelvyn brought their packhorse to the front of the house. Sellianda rode the same graceful elvish horse that had first brought her to Braejr. Solveig was to ride with them as far as the north gate to see them on their way and, if the gate happened to be shut, to make certain that they were allowed to leave without incident. Thelvyn was quietly amused, explaining that if he was trying to leave, there was no one in Braejr who would want to stop him. The shoes of their horses rang against the paving stones of the dark, deserted streets, echoing in the cool night air.