Crimson Shadow, The - R. A. Salvatore Page 0,380

will soon be yours,” Brind’Amour said to Deanna. “Avon will soon be yours. I may miss your triumphant ascent to your rightful seat. Do not forget those who came to your aid, I beg.”

“There are many wrongs to be righted,” Deanna replied.

“If I do not return, then know that Greensparrow shall forever remain a problem to you. Keep your eyes to the Saltwash and your guard up high!”

Deanna nodded. “And for Eriador, whatever your fate, I promise independence,” she replied. “Your army will not go north until a proper line of command has been established, be it King Bellick of DunDarrow, or Luthien Bedwyr, Proctor Byllewyn of Gybi, or Siobhan of the Fairborn.”

Luthien was horrified that they were speaking so plainly of the possibility of Brind’Amour’s death, but he quickly came to accept the necessity. Eriador could not be thrown into chaos again, whatever might now happen, and Luthien found that he believed Deanna’s promise that Avon would no longer seek domination over his homeland. Still, given Deanna’s last words, it seemed a real threat to Luthien that if Brind’Amour did not return, Eriador would split into tribal factions. Luthien could foresee trouble between Kayryn Kulthwain and Bellick, both so very proud and stubborn, perhaps trouble between both of them and Proctor Byllewyn!

Luthien’s gaze went right to Brind’Amour, the brave wizard leaning low, stroking Riverdancer’s muscled neck. On sudden impulse, Luthien ran to his horse, sliding Brind’Amour back almost onto Riverdancer’s withers.

Brind’Amour put an arm out to stop him. “What are you about?” the wizard demanded.

“I am going with you,” Luthien replied determinedly. “It is my horse, and it is my place!”

Brind’Amour looked long and hard into the young Bedwyr’s cinnamon-colored eyes. He found that he could not disagree. Luthien had earned the right to join in this last and most desperate chase.

“If the horse will not carry us both, then select another as well,” Luthien demanded. He looked back to Oliver, sitting, now nervously, on his yellow pony. “Threadbare,” Luthien added.

“You want to grow wings on my precious horse that we might chase a dragon into a swamp?” Oliver asked incredulously.

“Yes,” answered Luthien.

“No!” Brind’Amour emphatically corrected, and just as emphatic was the halfling’s sigh of relief.

“Riverdancer will take us both,” Brind’Amour explained, and Luthien was appeased.

“Luthien!” cried Katerin O’Hale.

The young Bedwyr slipped down from the horse and went to her at once, pulling her in a close embrace. “It is the proper finish,” he said with all his heart. “It is the end of what I began when I killed Duke Morkney atop the Ministry’s tower.”

Katerin had meant to tell him not to go, to scold him for thinking so little of her that he would ride off on such a suicidal quest as to chase a dragon king into its swamp home. But like Brind’Amour, the young woman couldn’t deny the sincerity in Luthien’s eyes, the need he felt to see it through to the possibly bitter end.

“I only feared that you would go without bidding me goodbye,” she lied.

“Not goodbye,” Luthien corrected. “Just a kiss and a plea from me that you keep yourself safe until I can return to your side in this, the domain of Queen Deanna Wellworth.”

His optimism touched Katerin, mostly because she realized that Luthien only half-believed that he had any chance of getting back to her. Still, she could not tell him to stay. She kissed him, and bit back the word “Goodbye,” before it could escape her lips.

Then the gallant pair were off, Riverdancer as powerful in flight as he had been in the gallop, climbing high above the embattled city, noting the progress of their allies. Then Carlisle was far behind them, and the fields of Avon rolled along far beneath them.

The Saltwash was waiting.

CHAPTER 30

THE DRAGON KING

A GRAY AND HAZY MORNING greeted the companions as the great pegasus set down on a patch of soft and mossy turf. They had flown throughout the afternoon and the night, straight to the east, but had not caught sight of the speeding dragon.

Luthien’s fears were obvious: what if Greensparrow had not really gone to the Saltwash, but had merely flown out from Carlisle to rest before resuming the battle?

Brind’Amour would hear nothing of that disturbing talk. “Greensparrow knows that all is lost,” he explained. “He revealed himself openly in his true and wretched form, and the Avon populace will never accept him as king. No, the beast went home, into the swamp.”

As comforting as the wizard’s confidence was, Luthien understood that filtering