it."
Rivalen's eyes flared and he placed the king in the center of the board, exposed.
"I understand completely."
Tamlin had no doubt the prince did. He rose to pour himself a drink, navigating the study in the darkness. When he reached the sideboard, he said, "The high bergun has taken my family into custody. He hopes thereby to ransom Daerlun's safety."
Rivalen looked up from the board, his golden eyes veiled. "They could be retrieved, Hulorn. Shall I arrange it?"
Tamlin realized that something of import turned on his answer. He found a glass, a bottle of wine, and poured. He tried
to determine the vintage from tasteThamalon's Best Red, he thought. At least four years old.
"I am grateful for your offer, Prince. But the presence of my family would be a distraction to me just now."
"Indeed," Rivalen said again, the comment half question, half observation. "Families are sometimes a... distraction."
Tamlin returned to the chess table, chalice in hand. "You and your brother seem to complement one another well."
"We Tanthuls have had two thousand years to learn to work together," Rivalen said. He picked up the queen, studied it, a frown playing at the corners of his mouth. "But we, too, have had our... disagreements."
Tamlin smiled, thought of Talbot and the arguments they'd had over the years.
"Have you shared your secret with the Lady?" the prince asked as he replaced the black queen.
Tamlin nodded, running a fingertip over his holy symbol. 1 have.
"That is well." Rivalen leaned back in his chair and his tone lightened. "I would like a coin from the treasury, minted this day. Is that possible? You've recently started minting your own coins, yes?"
A request so ordinary from the prince surprised Tamlin. "A coin? Of course. May I ask why?"
"I am a collector of coins, particularly those minted on or stamped with dates significant to me. They help me keep track of history." Rivalen eyed him across the chessboard, looking so unlike Tamlin's father. "And today is one such date."
Tamlin took the point, raised his glass in a salute. He wanted the night to last, wanted the pristine coldness of the moonless hours to continue forever, wanted the discussion with Rivalen to go on and on. He felt at home, comfortable in the study for the first time he could recall. He leaned forward. "Tell me more about the Shadowstorm. How should we deal with it?"
"Brennus is examining it, but we have determined that the Shadowstorm is the creation of an ancient being, a one-time servant of Shar who holds the same heretical notions as those heldonce heldby Vees Talendar."
Tamlin felt a small pit open in his stomach at the mention of his one-time friend. Darkness filled it.
"As for how we deal with it," Rivalen continued. "We use it."
"Use it?"
"It began in Ordulin and is moving west toward Saerb and Archendale. It does not yet reach farther south than the midpoint of the Arkhen. It will, but we have some time. For now, Ordulin is gone and what remains of its army near Saerb will disband, surrender, or be consumed by the storm."
Tamlin was vaguely disturbed by the obliteration of Ordulin but found comfort in the cold, hard touch of his new goddess.
"The Saerbian forces, too, stand in its path."
Rivalen nodded. "True. But where was Saerb when Saerloon's elementals shattered Selgaunt's walls?"
"Defending its own holdings, I presume. Do you imply something else?"
"Hulorn, do you wish to rule all of Sembia?"
The question shocked Tamlin into silence.
"Do you?"
Tamlin re-gathered his nerve. "You know that I do, Prince Rivalen."
Rivalen nodded. "Endren Corrinthal is a respected leader. He commanded the loyalty of many on the High Council before the overmistress dissolved it. Perhaps he would not look kindly upon your ascension. Perhaps, for the moment at least, the Saerbians should be left to their own devices. They are, after all, of no military use to you. It will not be an army that halts the Shadowstorm."
Tamlin's hand went
Rivalen's eyes flared and he placed the king in the center of the board, exposed.
"I understand completely."
Tamlin had no doubt the prince did. He rose to pour himself a drink, navigating the study in the darkness. When he reached the sideboard, he said, "The high bergun has taken my family into custody. He hopes thereby to ransom Daerlun's safety."
Rivalen looked up from the board, his golden eyes veiled. "They could be retrieved, Hulorn. Shall I arrange it?"
Tamlin realized that something of import turned on his answer. He found a glass, a bottle of wine, and poured. He tried
to determine the vintage from tasteThamalon's Best Red, he thought. At least four years old.
"I am grateful for your offer, Prince. But the presence of my family would be a distraction to me just now."
"Indeed," Rivalen said again, the comment half question, half observation. "Families are sometimes a... distraction."
Tamlin returned to the chess table, chalice in hand. "You and your brother seem to complement one another well."
"We Tanthuls have had two thousand years to learn to work together," Rivalen said. He picked up the queen, studied it, a frown playing at the corners of his mouth. "But we, too, have had our... disagreements."
Tamlin smiled, thought of Talbot and the arguments they'd had over the years.
"Have you shared your secret with the Lady?" the prince asked as he replaced the black queen.
Tamlin nodded, running a fingertip over his holy symbol. 1 have.
"That is well." Rivalen leaned back in his chair and his tone lightened. "I would like a coin from the treasury, minted this day. Is that possible? You've recently started minting your own coins, yes?"
A request so ordinary from the prince surprised Tamlin. "A coin? Of course. May I ask why?"
"I am a collector of coins, particularly those minted on or stamped with dates significant to me. They help me keep track of history." Rivalen eyed him across the chessboard, looking so unlike Tamlin's father. "And today is one such date."
Tamlin took the point, raised his glass in a salute. He wanted the night to last, wanted the pristine coldness of the moonless hours to continue forever, wanted the discussion with Rivalen to go on and on. He felt at home, comfortable in the study for the first time he could recall. He leaned forward. "Tell me more about the Shadowstorm. How should we deal with it?"
"Brennus is examining it, but we have determined that the Shadowstorm is the creation of an ancient being, a one-time servant of Shar who holds the same heretical notions as those heldonce heldby Vees Talendar."
Tamlin felt a small pit open in his stomach at the mention of his one-time friend. Darkness filled it.
"As for how we deal with it," Rivalen continued. "We use it."
"Use it?"
"It began in Ordulin and is moving west toward Saerb and Archendale. It does not yet reach farther south than the midpoint of the Arkhen. It will, but we have some time. For now, Ordulin is gone and what remains of its army near Saerb will disband, surrender, or be consumed by the storm."
Tamlin was vaguely disturbed by the obliteration of Ordulin but found comfort in the cold, hard touch of his new goddess.
"The Saerbian forces, too, stand in its path."
Rivalen nodded. "True. But where was Saerb when Saerloon's elementals shattered Selgaunt's walls?"
"Defending its own holdings, I presume. Do you imply something else?"
"Hulorn, do you wish to rule all of Sembia?"
The question shocked Tamlin into silence.
"Do you?"
Tamlin re-gathered his nerve. "You know that I do, Prince Rivalen."
Rivalen nodded. "Endren Corrinthal is a respected leader. He commanded the loyalty of many on the High Council before the overmistress dissolved it. Perhaps he would not look kindly upon your ascension. Perhaps, for the moment at least, the Saerbians should be left to their own devices. They are, after all, of no military use to you. It will not be an army that halts the Shadowstorm."
Tamlin's hand went
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