The Fallen Fortress by R.A. Salvatore

Author:R.A. Salvatore [Salvatore, R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Forgotten Realms, Saga of Drizzt Do'Urden
ISBN: 9781560764199
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 1993-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

To Trust

She viewed the dragon, full-sized once more, dead in the rocky vale, focused on its severed head lying a few feet from the scaly torso. All around the grisly scene, Dorigen saw the smoldering, torn remains of goblins and giants, scores of the beasts. And walking out of the valley, weary perhaps, but not one of them showing any serious wounds, went Cadderly and Danica, flanked by the two dwarves, the elf maiden, and the traitorous firbolg.

Dorigen slipped back into her chair and allowed the image to disappear from her crystal ball. At first she’d been surprised to so easily get through Cadderly’s magical defenses and locate the young priest, but when she gazed upon the scene, upon the carnage and the fury of Fyrentennimar, she’d understood the priest’s excusable defensive lapse.

Dorigen thought that she was witnessing Cadderly’s end, and the end of the threat to Castle Trinity. She had almost called in Aballister, almost advised the older wizard to go out and recruit Fyrentennimar as an ally for their unhindered attack against Carradoon and onward across the Baronies of Erlkazar.

Her surprise as Cadderly literally shrank the great wyrm—by stealing its age, Dorigen presumed—couldn’t have been more complete, and complete, too, was Dorigen’s surprise as she sat back and honestly considered her own feelings.

She had felt saddened when she thought Cadderly doomed. Logically, ambitious Dorigen could tell herself that Cadderly’s death would be a good thing for the designs of Castle Trinity, that the interference of the young priest could no longer be tolerated, and that in killing the young priest Fyrentennimar would have only saved Aballister the trouble. Logically, Dorigen should not have felt sympathy for Cadderly as he stood, apparently helpless, before the dreaded wyrm.

But she had, and she had silently cheered for Cadderly and his brave friends in their titanic struggle, had actually leaped up in joy when the firbolg came up from behind and lopped the dragon’s head off.

Why had she done that?

“Have you sighted anything this day?”

The voice startled Dorigen so badly she nearly fell out of her chair. She quickly threw the cloth over the crystal ball, though its interior was a cloud of nothingness once more, and fumbled to straighten and compose herself as Aballister threw open the curtain serving as her front door and whisked in beside her.

“Druzil has lost contact with the young priest,” Aballister continued. “It would seem that he is making fine progress through the mountains.”

If only you knew, Dorigen thought, but she remained silent. Aballister couldn’t begin to guess that the young priest was no more than a day’s march from Castle Trinity. Nor could the old wizard imagine that Cadderly and his friends would be resourceful and powerful enough to overcome the likes of Old Fyren.

“What do you know?” the suspicious Aballister demanded, drawing Dorigen from her private contemplations.

“I?” Dorigen replied innocently, poking a finger against her own chest, her amber eyes wide with feigned surprise.

If Aballister hadn’t been so self-absorbed at that moment, he would have caught Dorigen’s defensive overreaction.

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