Dragons of Winter Noght by Weis, Margaret

“The orb is ours,” Derek stated coldly. “You have no right to it at all. It certainly does not belong to your daughter or to your son. They traveled with me only by my courtesy, after I rescued them from the destruction of Tarsis. I am happy to have been able to escort them back to their homeland, and I thank you for your hospitality. But I leave tomorrow for Sancrist, taking the orb with me.”

Porthios stood up to face Derek. “The kender may say the dragon orb is his. It doesn’t matter.” The elflord spoke in a smooth, polite voice that slid through the night air like a knife. “The orb is in elven hands now, and here it will stay. Do you think we are foolish enough to let this prize be taken by humans to cause more trouble in this world?”

“More trouble!” Derek’s face flushed deep red. “Do you realize the trouble this world is in now? The dragons drove you from your homeland. They are approaching our homeland now! Unlike you, we do not intend to run. We will stand and fight! This orb could be our only hope-”

“You have my leave to go back to your homeland and be burned to a crisp for all I care,” Porthios returned. “It was you humans who stirred up this ancient evil. It is fitting that you fight it. The Dragon Highlords have what they want from us. They will undoubtedly leave us in peace. Here, on Ergoth, the orb will be kept safe.”

“Fool!” Derek slammed his fist on the table. “The Dragon Highlords have only one thought and that is to conquer all of Ansalon! That includes this miserable isle! You may be safe here for a time, but if we fall, you will fall, too!”

“You know he speaks truly, Father,” Laurana said, greatly daring. Elven women did not attend war meetings, much less speak. Laurana was present only because of her unique involvement. Rising to her feet, she faced her brother, who glowered at her disapprovingly. “Porthios, our father told us in Qualinesti that the Dragon Highlord wanted not only our lands but also the extermination our race! Have you forgotten?”

“Bah! That was one Dragon Highlord, Verminaard. He is dead-”

“Yes, because of us,” Laurana shouted angrily, “not you!”

“Laurana!” The Speaker of the Suns rose to his full height, taller even than his oldest son. His presence towered over them all. “You forget yourself, young woman. You have no right to speak to your elder bother like that. We faced perils of our own in our journey. He remembered his duty and his responsibility, as did Gilthanas. They did not go running off after a halfelven bastard like a brazen, human wh-” The Speaker stopped abruptly.

Laurana went white to the lips. She swayed, clutching the table for support. Gilthanas rose swiftly, coming to her side, but she pushed him away. “Father,” she said in a voice she did not recognize as her own, “what were you about to say?”

“Come away Laurana,” Gilthanas begged. “He didn’t mean it. We’ll talk in the morning.”

The Speaker said nothing, his face, gray and cold.

“You were about to say ‘human whore’!” Laurana said softly, her words falling like pins en nerves stretched taut.

“Go to your lodgings, Laurana,” the Speaker ordered in a tight voice.

“So that is what you think of me.” Laurana whispered, her throat constricting. “That is why everyone stares and stops talking when I come near them. ‘Human whore’.”

“Sister, do as your father commands,” Porthios said. “As for what we think of you-remember, you brought this on yourself. What do you expect? Look at you, Laurana! You are dressed like a man. You proudly wear a sword stained with blood. You talk glibly of your ‘adventures!’ Traveling with men such as these-humans and dwarves! Spending the nights with them. Spending the nights with your half-breed lover. Where is he? Did he tire of you and-”

The firelight flared before Laurana’s eyes. Its heat swept over her body, to be replaced by a terrible cold. She could see nothing and remembered only a horrifying sensation of falling without being able to catch herself. Voices came at her from a great distance, distorted faces bent over her.