The Rose and the Skull Read online

  "We also met the leader of the gully dwarves. She knew of a draconian stronghold. It lies somewhere on the north coast of Sancrist. As soon as Lady Alya heard of this, she ordered us to return and warn you, while she continued alone to scout the stronghold," Valian said.

  "That seems an odd decision," Liam commented. "As you are an elf, I think you'd make a better scout than she."

  "Lady Alya knows how to handle herself," Tohr said. "If she thought Valian was needed here, she'd not hesitate to take the more dangerous assignment."

  Liam nodded, but he didn't seem convinced. "In any case, you still haven't told us about Pyrothraxus," he said to Valian.

  "Yes, well, we returned as ordered, despite my own objection to Alya's orders," Valian said. Tohr's eyebrows rose in surprise at this admission. Valian continued, "We marched with all speed to Isherwood, but the distance is too great to cross in a single day. We camped for the night, and all throughout the night storms crashed on the mountain peaks surrounding the valley. They sounded like giants battling; the sky was lit up like day. We had little enough shelter. The next morning we found our path blocked by a stream, which had been transformed by the rains into a raging river. We spent all that day trying to find a crossing, and that delay probably saved our lives."

  "How fortunate," Trevalyn commented.

  "And how do you know it was Pyrothraxus?" Quintayne asked. "Have you ever seen this dragon before?"

  "No, but I have seen many red dragons in my time. This dragon was was larger. His wings seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon, covering the whole sky and darkening the sun. And when he breathed…" the elf shuddered. "Such destruction I have never before witnessed. The entire North Tower melted like a candle, with molten stone running like wax down its sides. He then turned his attention on the stable, where horses screamed in terror of the flames. He tore off the roof and plucked out our horses like candies, devouring them whole."

  Valian staggered, gripping the table to steady himself. "Forgive me," he whispered.

  "You are exhausted," Meredith said. "We will send for food and wine. You need to rest."

  "In a moment," he said. "I must complete the tale. As we watched from some distance away, the dragon leveled the castle. What he did not crush, he incinerated with his fiery breath.

  "Lady Jessica was shattered, for she truly loved the castle like a home, and she hated to see it destroyed. When we descended to the desert basin where the gully dwarves lived, we'd sent Jessica's retainer, a hill dwarf, and Gunthar's boar hound back to the castle to await our return. Jessica feared they'd been killed by the dragon, either buried under tons of rubble or consumed by the dragon's fire. So it was to our great surprise that the dwarf appeared, burned and bruised but alive, and Millisant was with him. They'd escaped through a bolt hole just as the dragon burned the castle to the ground.

  "With the castle destroyed, the dragon seemed content to leave. He beat his great wings, sending sparks and hot ash swirling through the forest. Then, from the south, we saw…"

  Liam rose from his chair and held up one hand silencing the elf.

  "You are weary, Sir Valian. Tell us quickly what happened after you left the castle, so that we may reach some kind of decision," Liam said. A few of the other Knights shot him questioning glances, but he ignored them.

  Valian shrugged and continued. "We walked until we found a village. The people there gave us horses. Although they hadn't seen the dragon, they had sensed approaching danger, and many had already left, heading south away from the lands of Pyrothraxus. We passed many on the road. As we neared Castle uth Wistan, we learned of the vote taking place today, so I rode ahead as quickly as possible. Even so, my horse was once more accustomed to pulling a plow than fast riding. I think Jessica and the others will arrive before nightfall."

  With that said, Valian staggered to the empty chair beside Trevalyn and sank into it. He rested his head on his arms. The Thorn Knight eyed him with ill-concealed contempt. Meanwhile, everyone seemed to ponder what they'd just been told. Quintayne stared out the window, his round face wrinkled with thought. Meredith looked from one to another, as though searching the Knights' faces for some clues. Liam fiddled with the pommel of his dagger, his brows knit, while Tohr leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Trevalyn Kesper yawned.

  Finally, Meredith broke the silence. "It seems obvious to me, there is but one thing to do. We must go north. If we do nothing else, we must rescue that poor gully dwarf."

  "I doubt very seriously if he is even alive by now," Quintayne muttered.

  "It doesn't matter!"

  "You two aren't seeing the real threat here," Tohr said in impatience. "You Solamnics would sit at the knife edge of disaster and argue the color of the sky."

  "Excuse me?" Meredith said in surprise. "We Solamnics?"

  "You heard me," he growled. For the first time since they'd met him, his facade had crumbled. He stood, his fists clenched at his sides. "The real danger is not the draconian stronghold, if it even exists."

  At these words, Valian's head lifted from his arms. He eyed his leader curiously.

  Tohr continued, "The real danger is Pyrothraxus. If he catches us without leadership, we might as well swing open the doors of this castle and invite him inside."

  "Pyrothraxus is no threat to Castle uth Wistan, not yet," Liam interjected.

  "How can you say that?" Tohr shouted. "Are you an even bigger fool than… " He paused, swallowing his words.

  "Pyrothraxus didn't cross the border for a random attack. His destruction of Isherwood had a specific purpose, to stop Valian and his group. I imagine he thought they were at the castle and his attack would catch them inside, but he didn't know about the storm and their delay," Liam said. "When he is ready to confront us, he'll come here, yes, and strike at the heart of the Knighthood. So why is he threatening the unimportant border outposts?"

  "Who can read the minds of these new dragons?" Tohr argued. "After all, he did assault Mount Nevermind without warning. We can't assume this is anything but the precursor to a full-scale onslaught, perhaps with the backing of a full draconian army. Have you thought of that possibility?"

  "The draconians! It always comes back to the draconians," Meredith said. "If they are such a formidable army, why go to all the trouble of assassinating Lord Gunthar, and then scurrying around to hide that fact? Why hunt a poor stupid gully dwarf all over Sancrist? It doesn't make any sense to me."

  "Nor to me. It's all the more reason to take firm control of this Knighthood here. Otherwise we are in confusion and vulnerable to attack," Tohr said.

  Valian spoke up at this point. "Did I hear you say Lady Mirielle has been elected the new Grand Master?" he asked.

  "Well, not officially. Lady Alya is still to vote for the Knights of the Lily, but it's a mere formality only," Quintayne said. "She already has enough votes."

  "But until her vote is taken, no official proclamation can be made. Someone could still reverse his preference. Sir Valian is the next ranking member of the Order of the Lily; he could vote in her stead and bring closure to this matter," Tohr said.

  Valian shook his head uncertainly, his elvish nature preventing a hasty decision. "I need more time to consider," he said. "I did not expect to cast such a momentous vote. I haven't thought my decision through."

  "What is there to think through?" Tohr growled. "Your vote is meaningless, a mere formality."

  "Then it won't matter if I take a day to think about it. I need time to consider," Valian returned. Though his voice remained calm, his eyes were flashing.

  "You have twenty-four hours," Liam said. "We cannot wait much longer than that, whether or not Tohr is right about Pyrothraxus. We must call a general council at Whitestone to announce the decision."

  Everyone rose to leave. A door opened and a page entered, awaiting a command. "No decision has been made," said Tohr. "Sir Valian is to cast the last vote tomorrow at Whitestone Glade. Spread the word."

  The page turned to go, but
Liam stopped him with an additional order. "When Lady Jessica and her group arrive, have her brought immediately to my chambers. Allow the others to refresh themselves, and tell the grooms that a dog and two gully dwarves will need dinner tonight." The page nodded and scurried away.

  The Knights prepared to leave. With a final look at Tohr, Valian stalked away. As he passed, Tohr whispered, "Don't be a fool." Valian said nothing in return.

  26

  In the dark of the Sancrist night Dalian Escu walked the battlements of Castle uth Wistan. He wasn't on watch, and a good thing too. An army of goblins could have stormed the wall without his even noticing. His mind was elsewhere, walking in the dreamland forests of his elven childhood. In Silvanesti he'd been born, and there he'd died, when they banished him from the light. From that moment forward, no elf on Krynn was allowed to speak to him or even acknowledge his existence. His parents spoke of him as though he were already dead.

  In Storm's Keep, the birthplace of the Knights of Takhisis, he'd been reborn. With the Knights of Takhisis, he found the family to which he so desperately needed to belong. Even so, they'd never completely accepted him. Now it seemed all he'd worked toward had been a lie, a carefully concealed deception. Where was the vaunted honor of the Knights of Takhisis? It lay in some draconian dungeon, wrapped in the vestige of a gully dwarf.

  What had first alerted him? Had it in fact been with the surprising willingness of the leadership of the Knights to attempt a union with the Knights of Solamnia, their most bitter enemies? Or had it come later, at Isherwood, when Alya displayed a strange stubbornness to accept the existence of draconians on Sancrist Isle? Or was it some strange coincidence, by which Pyrothraxus chose to attack Isherwood, breaking the uneasy and undeclared peace?

  Then there was Lord Tohr, displaying the same incomprehensible unwillingness to accept the fact of the existence of the draconian stronghold, and his pressure to conclude the vote to determine the leadership of the combined Knighthood. Sir Liam had been right. There was no real threat from Pyrothraxus; the dragon had been sent to destroy Jessica, the priest, and himself.

  While he pondered these matters, Valian circled the entirety of the battlements, crossing over the gate by its postern walk. He passed above the stable yard, where Uhoh had lived, and he passed the place where Gunthar and Liam met on the battlements that first night, so long ago it seemed. He continued, his head bowed, his hands clasped behind his back.

  A familiar voice brought him up short. He found himself very near the rooms of Lord Tohr. By the torchlight from the courtyard, he saw that a window was open to the chill night air, but dark drapes prevented any light from escaping. He heard Tohr's voice.

  "Are you certain it will work?" Tohr was asking someone.

  Valian stepped closer to the window to better hear.

  "Of course, my lord. The potion was created before the Chaos War. Rest assured, once its magic has surrounded you, no human on Krynn can resist your charms. They will wish only to please you," a voice that was Trevalyn's answered.

  Without warning Valian pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the room. "And how does it work on elves?" he asked. The Thorn Knight almost fell over himself in his surprise, but Lord Tohr's face remained calm, almost as though he'd been expecting Valian. He held in his scarred hand a tiny glass phial filled with a red liquid.

  "I am glad you are here, Valian," he said in a pleasant voice as he placed the phial on the desk before him. "I've been meaning to talk to you, to bring you up to date on our situation here."

  "If I were planning to usurp the Solamnics in their own castle, I'd at least have the sense to shut the window," Valian sneered.

  "An oversight," Tohr said. "Very careless. Trevalyn, please close the window, won't you, so we don't have any more unexpected guests."

  The Thorn Knight stepped behind the curtain and closed the window with a snap. He returned to Tohr's side, his hands folded in the sleeves of his gray robe.

  "This has been the plan all along," Valian said.

  "Actually, no. We fully expected Liam to be elected Grand Master. That's why Lady Mirielle didn't come herself. We thought it would take years for all our plans to develop, when we could place the scepter into the hands of one of our own. But now?" he shrugged. "His own men were surprisingly easy to win over. All I can say is, he took his chances. He lost in a fair vote."

  "You're leaving out Gunthar's murder," Valian snarled. "Now we take through assassination and duplicity what we could not win in battle. Why wasn't I told?"

  "You know the answer to that question. This is a political world, my friend," Tohr said. "Heroes don't ride silver dragons to glory anymore. They wade through the trenches of words, taking what they can and counting every small victory no matter how it is won."

  "Even victories without honor?" Valian asked.

  "The honor will come later," Tohr explained. "Be realistic, Valian. The Knights of Solamnia are dying. They've never learned the great lesson Lord Ariakan recognized from the start. Warriors need to fight wars. In peace, the Solamnics have destroyed themselves. We could defeat them in battle, but at what cost? How many lives do we save, by defeating them in this manner?

  "I hate to disappoint you, my lord, but you have not won yet," Valian said. "I know your secret now."

  Tohr smiled threateningly. "If you really wanted to thwart our plans, you wouldn't make the mistake of announcing yourself here, tonight."

  "I offer you a way out, an honorable way. Ask for another vote, and this time exclude Lady Mirielle's name from nomination. Gunthar was right. We'd be better off working together instead of against each other," Valian urged. "We'd be stronger, greater, nobler."

  "And what about our queen? What about Takhisis?" Trevalyn hissed.

  "Takhisis is dead," Valian snapped. "She died that day at the High Clerist's Tower, when Lord Ariakan called her name, to no avail."

  "She didn't die. She only retreated from the fury of Chaos. She will return," Trevalyn said vehemently.

  "It doesn't matter. We can't wait for her to return," Valian said. "The best thing we can do right now is unite both knighthoods."

  "My friend, for an elf, you really are naive," Tohr laughed. "What was Gunthar's dream but a way to absorb us into the Knights of Solamnia without having to defeat us in battle. It was Gunthar who sent the letter to Lady Mirielle, Gunthar who proposed we join our two orders into one. Granted, we had already placed draconians on the island in the hopes of gaining a foothold here. We also sent them to negotiate with Pyrothraxus, or else we'd have had to fight him as well as the Solamnics. As we've learned with the sinking of Donkaren, treaties with the dragon are tenuous at best.

  "Gunthar's letter came as a complete surprise to us. Haven't you realized that that is where Gunthar's genius lay? He'd have been the first Grand Master of the combined order and could have directed it as he wished. As an order, the Knights of Takhisis would have vanished, while the Knights of Solamnia lived on under a new name. All we did was turn the tables on his plan."

  "Not yet," Valian countered. "It won't work. I shall expose you."

  "You don't realize the precariousness of your position," Tohr said.

  "My position has always been precarious," Valian said.

  "You fancy yourself a hero, going to save the Knighthood from itself, like Sturm Brightblade?" Tohr barked mockingly. His voice grew sinister as his features drew into a snarl. "Dead men make poor heroes."

  Reacting suddenly and swiftly, Valian drew his sword before Tohr could call for help. He leveled it at his master's heart, ready to strike the death blow.

  Tohr froze. Trevalyn stood at his side, trembling either with fear or anger. Tohr tried to calm himself to speak, but it did little good. When he spoke, his voice quavered with fear. "You'd not kill an unarmed man?" he asked.

  "Where is your sword?" Valian growled through clenched teeth.

  "I don't need a sword," Tohr answered. "I have a Thorn!"

  With that, he seized Trevalyn by the sle
eve and flung him at the dark elf. The gray-robed Knight shrieked in surprise as Valian's sword slid between his ribs.

  "It is bad luck… to kill… a mage," Trevalyn gasped as he clung to the sword. Blood flecked his lips and poured from his breast, staining his gray robes to black.

  Valian, momentarily thrown, yanked free his sword. Trevalyn fell at his feet. "You have no more magic," he said to the corpse, "and I never liked you anyway."

  He turned to pursue Tohr but found the Knight of Skulls already outside the door, shouting for his guard. With a snarl of rage, Valian slashed aside the curtain and burst out the window, escaping to the battlement just as three Knights erupted into the room, swords drawn.

  Liam's candle had burned down to a stub no bigger than his big toe. Gunthar's papers lay before him on the desk, and still he had not begun. Despite the Knighthood's pressing need for some kind of direction and order, he couldn't bring himself to begin the task. Was it fear of failure, his own failure, or was it fear of having to announce that Gunthar's Revised Measure was a failure? Could he bring himself to admit that possibility before everyone?

  There were so many other things to consider right now. There was his failure at the vote of succession, and the news brought by Valian Escu of the draconian stronghold. During his interview later that evening with Jessica Vestianstone, she'd confirmed everything Valian said, even adding to what he'd been told. She'd expanded on the part of the tale concerning the priest, Nalvarre Ringbow. She told Liam of Nalvarre's encounter in the forest with a creature able to take the form of anyone it killed and of the attack on his house while he was away. She described the injuries to the hound Millisant. When she mentioned it, he seemed to remember some talk among the grooms that one of the hounds had not returned from the hunt, but at the time he'd paid it no mind. Jessica had broken down in tears when describing the destruction of Isherwood. She'd wept for it as though mourning the passing of an old and very dear friend.