Dragonlance 08 - Dragons of the Highlord Skies by Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman Read Free Book Online

He would conveniently forget that when the time came.
    He and his witch were both waiting for her to tell them how brilliant they were.
    She would do her duty. She was a soldier, after all, and he was her commander.
    “It’s an interesting notion,” Kitiara said. “All Solamnics are deeply suspicious and distrustful of anything magic, but”—she smiled at Iolanthe—“I have no doubt some lovely woman could help Sir Derek overcome his misgivings. Now, if that will be all, my lord, I should be returning to my command.”
    Kitiara was thinking there might be some way around Ariakas’s refusal to attack the High Clerist’s Tower. He would be angry that she had disobeyed him, at first, but his rage would be mitigated by her victory. Better that than endure his fury after a defeat …
    “Excellent,” said Ariakas smoothly. “I’m glad you like the plan, Kitiara, because I’ve decided to send you to ensnare Crownguard.”
    His words came as a shock to both women. Iolanthe stared at him in amazement nearly as great as Kit’s.
    “My lord,” Iolanthe protested, bristling, “you and I agreed that I should be the one—”
    “My lord,” Kitiara spoke at the same time, her dark brows coming together in irritation, “I am commander of the Blue Wing. My place is with my troops—”
    Ariakas was gratified. These two powerful women had been growing a bit too sure of themselves.
    “I have changed my mind,” he said, his sharp tone cutting them both off. “Iolanthe, the Highlord is right. The knights are distrustful of magic and those who wield it—a fact I had not taken into consideration when I agreed you could go. Kitiara is a warrior and far better suited to this task. As for you, Highlord, your forces are dug in for the winter. You can afford to spend some time away from them.”
    Kit turned away, determined to hide her disappointment. She walked over to stare out the window at the compound, where a group of prisoners, chained together at the ankle, was being lined up at the foot of a scaffold. Today was the day for hanging traitors. She watched dispassionately as the executioner placed the noose around the neck of a young man, who was groveling on his knees, protesting his innocence, begging for his life. The guards yanked him to his feet, put a bag over his head.
    “Leave us, Iolanthe,” said Ariakas, after a pause. “I need to speak to the Highlord.”
    Iolanthe cast Kitiara a baleful look, then took her leave, her silken garments flowing around her. She slammed shut the door behind her.
    Kitiara had her feelings once more under control. “The lady was not pleased. I fear you will sleep in a cold bed this night, my lord.”
    “No woman ever says ‘no’ to me, Kitiara,” Ariakas replied imperturbably. “You know that, and stop fingering that hidden blade of yours. I am convinced you are the one to handle this business with Crownguard. Once you have completed that assignment, which should not take you long, provided you handle it right—”
    “I already have some ideas on that score, my lord,” said Kitiara.
    “Good. After that, I want you to fly to Haven and report back to me on this chaotic situation in the Red Wing.”
    Kitiara was about to argue against this, for she truly had no care about the Red Wing, when a sudden thought flashed through her mind. Haven was near Solace. A trip back to her old stomping grounds might prove most interesting.
    “I am yours to command, my lord,” she said.
    “After that, you will travel to Icereach. I do not trust this elf wizard. I find the fact that he has suddenly ‘remembered’ he has a dragon orb in his possession disturbing.”
    Ariakas walked over to stand beside her. They both watched as the scaffold’s trap door opened and the young man dropped to his death. Unfortunately for him, the fall did not break his neck, and he writhed and twisted at the end of the noose for some time.
    “Ah, a kicker,” remarked Ariakas, amused.
    Kitiara watched until