Snippet #2724608

Inside the ornate entryway, polished sandstone mosaics flickered in the pale witchlight that illuminated the cavernous space. Streams of clear, pure water cascaded down from the heights of the citadel in an opulent display of splendor. The locust-walker had piqued the Royal Mistress's interest, despite being a stranger among her ranks. She recognized very few of the talismans he wore, but could tell he was cast from the lineage of the oldest of the desert tribes; the same tribes that Tyretlethen had snuffed out during his rise to power over fifteen-hundred years ago. If nothing else, there was little harm he could do in the ensuing contest.

The full rank and file of her honor guard filed in behind them; their spears and splinted armor clacking and rustling softly. A few of Tyretlethen's own royal guard met Nedelethakor at the steps up to the Suzerain's antechamber. Though their expressions were inscrutable beneath their iron helms, the tone of suspicion was unmistakable in ther gruff voices.

"Greetings, Lady Nedelethakor. The Suzerain bids you glad tidings and hopes your journey was safe. You may leave your bodyguards here. We will escort you to the Suzerain's Hall." they said, turning on their heels and beginning to march up the long steps. The Royal Mistress flicked her tongue at a few of her soldiers; harpy women of the northen bluffs who were also her attendants. She also pointed at the curious nomad who smelled of old sand. Out of her collected posse, he most had the bearing of a wizard, and he would fit well into her cadre. The Suzerain's guards turned to glean what was holding the Lady from ascending, and butted their spears into the stone steps as her selected assistants walked along with her.

"Begging the Lady's pardon, but only you yourself are permitted to the Suzerain's quarters. All others must wait here." the one on the right barked. Nedelethakor emitted a long hiss and drew her face close to the presumptuous guardsman.

"Surely Tyretlethen would not begrudge his Favored Lady an attachment of footwomen to tend to her needs. The mating of blue dragons is no animal affair, like the hasty rutting of you humans. I shall have need of their attentions for the full length of this Ringshadow, else I shall require you to bathe me once all is settled." Nedelethakor said in the most honeyed voice a fifty foot long dragon could muster. The guard captain backed away slowly and swallowed.

"So be it. But what of...this one." the armored elite stammered, gesturing the tip of his ranseur at Sekhemkare. Nedelethakor slowly arched her long neck to gaze at the sunbaked shaman before looking back to the captain.

"What of him? The Suzerain keeps the Archmage by him at all practical times. Am I not permitted to have the council of my own wizard? Come, introduce yourself to the captain." The Lady crooned at Sekhemkare.