7th Day of Fireseek, 565 CY
The Brass Dragon Inn, Furyondy
Aslan stared in shock at himself.
He had gone from vigilant to distracted to bored while waiting for his counterpart to appear. When Nodyath had actually arrived, Aslan, who had been standing in the middle of the room, had been facing towards the door. He had literally jumped in surprise when he heard his own voice booming at him from behind.
Nodyath and Thorin were standing in the far right corner of the room. Nodyath wore plate mail armor not too dissimilar from Aslan's- except for his helm.
The infamous helm of telepathy was a great helm, the paladin noted. It was a bright gray, covered with an intricate silver overlay. Like many other helms Aslan had seen, it was horned, although these particular horns, which both twisted to stretch out directly in front of the helm's wearer, seemed almost insectile. The helm covered most of Nodyath's face, leaving only a thin, T-shaped section visible. Aslan could see Nodyath's light blue eyes staring at him with a mixture of fear and suspicion that he couldn't imagine existing within himself. In fact, Nodyath's whole being seemed to radiate an attitude that was almost feral in nature. From Cygnus' description of his conversation with Nodyath, as well as their own experience with how easily he had fooled them all before, Aslan had expected a cold, cruel, criminal mastermind. Nodyath seemed much more nervous than Aslan had been expecting. He knew that wasn't a good sign.
Nodyath was standing somewhat hunched over, all the easier to maintain the dagger he held at Thorin's throat.
The boy seemed dirty and disheveled, but other than a small bruise on his right cheek, appeared to be unharmed. His eyes, wild with fear, locked on Aslan.
Although he registered that Thorin was all right for the moment, Aslan found himself paralyzed, gazing into his counterpart's eyes. Dimly, a small voice in his head was trying to slap him into action, telling him that Nodyath had gotten his shock of meeting his counterpart out of the way two days ago, and that delay at this point could prove fatal. He still couldn't believe the intensity of Nodyath's stare- until the reason for it hit him.
By the High One, he's looking into my mind!
As if in confirmation, Nodyath snarled. "What's Cygnus up to?"
The door burst open. The sound snapped Aslan back into action. He whirled, yelling to Argo, the figure standing furthest inside the doorway, "Stop where you are! Take no action! Say nothing!"
Somewhat uncharacteristically, Argo obeyed, although almost imperceptibly, he continued to inch forward into the room, to allow the others in behind him.
Aslan turned back to his counterpart. "All right Nodyath," he said, holding out his left hand, which held the scroll. "You know we can't hide anything from you. Cygnus is afraid that you won't keep your word, but if there's the tiniest shred of myself in you, I know you will. Here is the scroll. Let Thorin go, take it, and leave."
Nodyath extended his left hand. "Spare me your false morality, paladin. Just give me the scroll."
Aslan moved forward a few inches, shaking his head slowly. "You know you can trust us, Nodyath. We don't know that about you. We don't have your helm." He gently laid the scroll down on the room's remaining end table, about five feet from where Nodyath stood. "Let Thorin go. You know I won't make any attempt to stop you."
No one spoke. Nodyath's eyes darted from Aslan to Argo, to the others behind them. Aslan guessed he was reading their minds, as well. Nodyath then turned his attention back to Aslan and seemed to relax by an infinitesmal amount. His eyes kept darting towards the scroll. Thorin spoke in a kind of strangled gasp, his eyes struggling to hold back tears.
"Uncle Aslan... please... don't let him hurt me... where's Father?"
"Your father's a coward, Thorin," Nodyath stated, looking down on his hostage. "That's too bad for you." He paused, then peered at Aslan again. "Children deserve better from their parents. Don't you think?"
What the-? Aslan was thrown off balance by that remark. He nodded slowly, unsure of what this might be leading to.
He wasn't to find out. Nodyath shoved Thorin towards the paladin, lunged at the table, grabbed the scroll and disappeared.
Aslan caught Thorin, who wrapped his arms around the paladin as far as he could and burst into tears, crying "I'm sorry, Uncle Aslan, I'm sorry! I thought he was you! I thought he was you!"
"It's okay, Thorin," Aslan said, enfolding the child in his armored embrace. "It's okay. There was no way you could have known." He exhaled a long, deep breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and was only partially aware of the Tall Tales Room filling with a swirling mass of people. Someone, Caroline maybe, pulled Thorin from Aslan and hugged him, then began to check him for injuries.
An anger was starting to build within Aslan, and it wasn't directed solely at Nodyath.
He's right. A child does deserve better.
He turned to Argo and Elrohir. "Get Cygnus down here, now!"
Everyone moved back into the common room. Cygnus came running down the stairs. He knelt down as his son rushed into his arms. Everyone watched with a smile as they embraced. Thorin, still choking occasionally from sobs, pulled his face away from his father's shoulder and looked at him.
"Father... Nodyath... he... he said... he said you were... a coward."
The wizard smiled at that; the tears still wet on his own face.
"You're not, are you?" Thorin managed to get out, with an almost afraid cast to his voice. "You're not a coward, right?"
"Thorin." Cygnus gazed fondly at his son and tried to smooth his hair with his hand."Of course not. Remember when you first began your wizard training. What was the first thing I told you when you asked what spells you would learn?"
The boy stared at his father, then gave a start when he realized it was an actual question. He tried to concentrate. "Um... er... it was... not what spells I would learn, but how well would I use the ones I did learn." His father smiled again.
"Exactly, Thorin. Exactly." Cygnus stood up and only then seemed to notice Sir Dorbin and his party. Looking intently at the knight, he asked "Are you.-"
Dorbin nodded. "Indeed I am, Cygnus. Sir Dorbin of Seltia. Your friends have explained the situation to us. We are here to help."
"Excellent! Excellent!" The mage laid a hand on Sir Dorbin's shoulder. "Thank you, my friend. We may well need it."
"What do you mean?" asked Aslan, who was standing with his arms crossed, his voice cold. "Was not capitulation your plan, Cygnus? We have Thorin back, and Nodyath has the scroll. What else have we to expect?"
"Hopefully nothing," Cygnus said, a glint in his eye now. "Hopefully nothing. But if something does happen, it's going to happen within the next twenty-four hours. We have to plan for the worst, people!"
"Why?" asked Elrohir.
Cygnus slowly surveyed everyone around him, and a grim smile took root on his face.
"Because I put explosive runes on that scroll."