Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

by Richard A. Knaak

  It was as if the caravan and the rest of the population of Talak had disappeared. Now the world consisted only of the two small groups.

  Melicard looked over the group before him, his eyes alighting briefly on first Cabe and then Kyl. “Welcome, honored guests, to our home! Welcome to Talak!”

  Cabe had almost expected the Green Dragon to speak for his group, but Kyl surprised him by stepping forward. He bowed to both king and queen, adding a smile for the latter, and said, “You do usss great honor, Your Majesssty! We thank you for your hossspitality and hope that thisss meeting between usss will be the firssst major ssstep toward permanent peace between our two racesss.”

  “That we wish also,” the queen returned. “But come! You’ve journeyed some distance to be here, and I do not doubt that many of your people could do with food and rest. If you do not object, I will have someone show your retinue to their quarters. We have set aside part of a wing just for them.”

  “That would be mossst kind of you.”

  “As for yourselves, special accommodations have been arranged for all.” Erini smiled at Cabe. “Master Bedlam will be familiar with the rooms we have given to him and I think he will be able to vouch for their comfort.”

  “They’ve been nothing less than perfection, Your Highness.”

  Her smile blossomed. “I am happy to hear that! Lord Kyl, if you like, I will be happy to escort you and your companions to those rooms. Then, after you have had a chance to refresh yourselves, perhaps you will join my husband and me for a light supper. The others, are, of course, also invited.”

  Becoming daring, the young drake suddenly reached for the queen’s hand. Melicard and his men tensed, which made the drakes with Cabe also stiffen, but Kyl simply took Erini’s hand, turned it palm down, and kissed the back lightly. He matched her smile with a brilliant one of his own-the type that the warlock had most recently noticed directed toward his own daughter. “You are both a graciousss hossstess and a mossst beautiful lady. I would be honored to have you essscort us. Your other sssuggestionsss I alssso find most agreeable. But name the hour for the sssupper and we shall be there.”

  For the first time, Cabe noted traces of suppressed emotion play across the face of Melicard. The flesh and elfwood countenance of the king briefly twitched in disgust and anger, but Melicard quickly and quietly subdued the escaping emotions. In a calm voice, he turned to the warlock and said, “While my wife escorts His Majesty to his rooms, I would like to take the opportunity to discuss a few minor details with you, Master Bedlam. If you have the time, that is.”

  And it would be best if I did have the time, wouldn’t it? the mage thought wryly. He hoped that the king’s temper would remain in check. Now was not the time for Melicard’s hatred and jealousy to rise to the forefront.

  “I’m at your service, Your Majesty.”

  “Fine.” The monarch turned to Kyl. “My lord, I hope you find your rooms satisfactory. If there is any need we can fulfill, please do not hesitate to ask. I look forward to the supper and hope that it will be but the first step toward the peaceful relationship both of us desire.”

  Erini frowned to herself, then suddenly glanced past Kyl and the others. “But we are being remiss! There is one more who should be there!”

  From behind Cabe came the stentorian voice of Darkhorse. “I do not eat nor do I require a place to sleep, gracious queen! Yet, if my presence is desired, I will come to your supper!”

  He’s offering them the chance to forego his company. Whether the eternal’s reasons for making the offer were selfish or because he thought the two sides would be better able to negotiate without his presence to disturb them, Cabe Bedlam could only guess. Still, the very idea of offering the choice went against what the shadow steed had said to the warlock among the ruins of Mito Pica. Cabe wondered what the stallion had in mind.

  Before the king and queen could say anything, Kyl spoke up. He looked at Darkhorse as if offended. “By all meansss, you mussst join usss! In fact, I will go ssso far asss to insissst.”

  “Yes,” added a more reluctant Melicard, “it would be remiss not to include you.”

  His wife was pleased. “There! That’s settled, then. Baron Vergoth, would you see to it that someone helps those with the caravan to settle in to their chambers? Also, something must be done about separating the riding drakes from the horses.”

  “As you desire, my queen.” Vergoth saluted his lord and lady, then Kyl. “If you will excuse me. . . .”

  Queen Erini separated herself from the king and made her way to Kyl’s side, where she took the heir’s arm. “Now, then, Your Highness, if you and your companions will follow me, I will take you to your own rooms.”

  Kyl was all courtesy. “You are too kind, my lady.”

  The two of them started up the steps, with Lord Green, Grath, and the two guards trailing close behind. Four royal guardsmen followed the party. Melicard watched them go, then turned back to the warlock. “Shall we adjourn to my private quarters, Master Bedlam?”

  Cabe did not answer him at first, instead turning to where Darkhorse had been standing. “What about you-”

  The shadow steed was gone. Scanning the area, Cabe could not find the eternal among the soldiers and servants.

  “He vanished at some point between the moment it was decided that he would join us at supper and just now, when I turned my gaze back to you.” Melicard’s tone was cautious. “I will never understand that creature. Do not even you have any control over him?”

  “Darkhorse does what Darkhorse chooses to do.”

  A half-silver frown crossed the king’s unique visage. “I had noticed that. I still hoped.”

  The caravan and its escort had begun moving again. Cabe watched for a moment, then reminded the king, “You wanted to talk to me, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes.” The king of Talak looked around at his staff. “The rest of you may return to your duties.”

  The departure of the dignitaries left the two alone save for a second set of guards whose task it was to protect the king at all times. Melicard acted as if they did not exist. The heir to the throne of the mountain kingdom since his birth, he was very much used to the near-constant presence of bodyguards.

  “This way, if you please.”

  Following the tall, regal figure up the steps of the palace, Cabe asked, “Has my wife arrived yet, Your Majesty?”

  “I commanded those responsible to notify me the moment she does. Likely you will know before anyone else does.”

  That was probably true, but the warlock liked to ask, just to be certain. Gwendolyn had said she would arrive early in the evening of this very day, but exactly when had been debatable. Cabe hoped that she would appear before supper. He wanted her there if it was at all possible.

  As they reached the top, Melicard casually asked, “What are your personal observations concerning this supposed emperor?”

  The intrigued sorcerer arched an eyebrow. “Is that one of the minor details you wanted to discuss with me?”

  A pause. “One of them, yes.” The king fixed his true eye on his companion. Even after so long, it was sometimes hard to believe that the other one was not real, despite its silver shape, for the elfwood so well mimicked Melicard’s original face that the false eye followed the direction of its counterpart with perfect precision. The disfigured monarch had never said otherwise, but Cabe occasionally wondered if he saw better than he pretended.

  Mulling over the king’s request, the warlock finally replied, “I’d be happy to give you my observations concerning Kyl.”

  Melicard actually appeared a bit startled. “I thank you.”

  The mage shrugged. “I would do the same for him in regard to you. Likely, I will whether he asks or not.”

  “That would be . . . fair.”

  Although he was able to hide it from the king, Cabe was vastly relieved by Melicard’s lack of protest. Had the gray-haired ruler commanded him not to speak to Kyl, it would have created a precarious situation.
Despite his position as one of Kyl’s guardians, the warlock was desperately attempting to be neutral when it came to the talks between the two rulers. If either side felt that he leaned toward the other, it could only make the situation more perplexing . . . not to mention dangerous. It was even more difficult since, despite Melicard’s constant formality, Cabe considered both king and queen good friends.

  The question is, the sorcerer thought as he followed Melicard into the palace, how long before I do take sides? Or have I done so already?

  He hoped that Gwen would make it in time for supper.

  Kyl was pleased with himself.

  “I did very well, would you not sssay ssso, Grath?”

  The dragon heir stood in the midst of the sumptuous suite that had been turned over to him by the very charming queen, who had just left his company not a moment before in order to make the final arrangements for the informal supper. Had his interests not been focused elsewhere, Kyl would have utilized his full charms on Queen Erini. It was clear that she controlled her husband, so whoever controlled her could have whatever he desired. Concessions, perhaps.

  “You did well,” Grath admitted. Unlike his brother, he maintained a quiet, almost reclusive air. Seated in a plush, gold-and-purple chair on one side of the vast room, Grath watched his sibling continue to preen. For the first time in days they were alone, Kyl’s guards having taken up residence outside the entrance to the suite.

  “I wasss grace and charm. I treated our two-faced hossst with the ressspect and care that he could hardly have expected from . . . how wasss it he put it long ago? . . . from ‘a blood-thirsssty lizard that sssometimes walked on two legsss’?”

  “He was, I believe, talking about Toma,” Grath corrected.

  “He wasss talking about all drakesss, regardlessss of which of usss he ssspoke of at the time!” The emperor-to-be stalked toward his brother and leaned over the chair. He smiled slightly as Grath shrank back. The other drake was not frightened, merely cautious. Both of them knew how valuable Grath was to him. When Kyl had a question, his younger sibling was generally there with the answer. The arrangement pleased the dragon heir. He had the best, most loyal of all advisors, one who had no designs on the throne himself. He would rather bury hisss head in hisss precious booksss than rule a race!

  Yes, a perfect arrangement.

  “We should prepare for the supper,” Grath suggested quietly. “You have to press your advantage.”

  Kyl’s handsome face momentarily revealed anxiety. The confidence that his performance at the steps of the palace had built evaporated somewhat. It would not be long before supper. He had the advantage now, having confused King Melicard’s assumptions about the new Dragon Emperor. Queen Erini was especially pleased with the elegant young visitor, of that he was confident. What, then, was the best way to further capitalize on his success? With the mountain kingdom on the very doorstep of his own domain, he needed the good will of the king and queen . . . at least until the clans of Gold were once more a power to be reckoned with. That, however, would take a few years.

  Kyl studied his brother’s eyes. “You have sssome possible sssuggestion. I know that look.”

  “I think . . . I think you should make some sort of grand gesture, Kyl.”

  The emperor-to-be straightened. “A grand gesssture? I thought I had sssimply by coming here!”

  Grath steepled his hands. “I mean a persssonal gesture to King Melicard himself, Kyl.”

  A personal gesture. The elder drake could see the potential in that. Done properly, it would completely undermine the last vestiges of the human monarch’s misgivings. “Tell me what you think might be a worthy gesssture. Tell me what you would do. . . .”

  “It came to me while I was reading about Talak and King Melicard in general.” Grath looked down, as if uncertain as to whether his suggestion would be worthy of his brother’s time.

  Kyl had no such doubts. His brother had not failed him yet. Giving his advisor a reassuring smile, the heir to the dragon throne urged Grath to continue.

  The encouragement appeared to be all the younger drake needed to spur him on. Looking more excited, Grath said, “It concerns His Majesssty’s father, Renneck IV, and our distant brother, the late Duke Kyrg . . .”

  “Rennek and Kyrg?” Kyl could not see the connection.

  The other drake leaned forward. “Thisss is what I think you should do, Kyl. . . .”

  VII

  The manor was now his.

  Pride and worry wrestled for control. Aurim’s mother had left for Talak the night before, leaving him in charge. He knew, of course, that Benjin Traske was supposed to keep an eye on him, but even still, the Manor was now most definitely his responsibility.

  As he walked through the garden, Aurim grew more confident. The Manor virtually ran itself. Despite all those who had accompanied his father and the others to Talak, there were more than enough people left who understood the day-to-day running of the miniature kingdom. The young warlock was there more as the symbol of authority, the final arbiter, he decided.

  He felt confident enough in himself that he was willing to try a spell. Not a grand, dangerous one, but a small yet complex incantation. Aurim glanced around. There was no one nearby. The closest structures were the stables, and there Ssarekai the drake and Derek Ironshoe, his human counterpart, would have their apprentices and workers busy. With most of the animals gone, the stable masters were hoping to give the buildings a thorough cleaning out-no small feat.

  The younger Bedlam held his hands before him, palms up. With his mind, he sought the forces of the world, forces he thought of as part of the natural makeup of the land but what most folk simply called “magic.” The link was made and drawn upon with but a single thought; to an outsider, the action would have seemed instantaneous. Aurim knew that compared to his parents he was still a bit slow, but the potential-and to his disgust it sometimes seemed it would forever be only potential-was within him to be the greatest mage to walk the realm since his great-grandfather, Nathan.

  The expectations people had of him were ofttimes daunting, which was perhaps why Aurim still had trouble with his control. Now, however, no such fears haunted him. In the comfort of his newfound role as temporary master of the house, he was able to use his new confidence to strengthen his will.

  A bouquet of flowers formed in his open hands. The bouquet was a good foot high and as wide as his body. Bright colors running the full span of the spectrum decorated the arrangement. Flower after flower blossomed, only to give way to their successors, which in turn gave way, and so on. . . .

  To someone standing some distance away, the warlock’s bouquet would have hardly seemed an amazing feat, considering the sort of things even a slightly competent mage was supposed to be capable of creating. It was only upon closer inspection that the complexity of Aurim’s spell became evident.

  The flowers were not flowers in the literal sense. Up close, it was possible to see the multitude of tiny, glittering figures constantly rearranging themselves to create new patterns. Each figure was a round, almost spherical, clown no larger than a fly. They crawled, climbed, jumped, and even flew. Aurim did not directly control each movement-no mage he had ever heard of in his mother’s stories had had that much skill-but the young warlock did direct them in the manner in which they created the flowers. Their other actions were based on smaller subspells he had prepared in advance. The main spell, like so many others designed to hone one’s concentration, had no apparent value other than visual delight, but the practice itself prepared a novice spellcaster for the time when such manipulation of the natural forces might mean life or death. Of course, while the practice was important, Aurim also simply enjoyed such fanciful creations. It was a challenge to him to see what he could design next.

  He was just starting to expand the bouquet when a commotion from the stables made him dispel his creation. A roar from within hinted at one possible cause of the trouble. There were still some riding drakes and horses in the sta
bles, and it was possible that one of the former was not taking kindly to being moved so that the stable workers could clean its pen. If it was a mother drake, then there was even more chance for disaster.

  With Ssarekai and his men inside, Aurim doubted that the situation was very critical, but it behooved him to see if there was any way in which he could contribute to a speedier conclusion. He hurried to the stables, only belatedly recalling that he could have saved precious seconds by transporting himself, and cautiously entered.

  “Massster Aurim! You should not be in here!”

  Ssarekai himself pushed the warlock to one side just as a long, scaly tail whipped their direction. Aurim regained his balance and watched as two drakes and a short, bearded man, one of Ironshoe’s helpers, struggled to keep a half-grown riding drake under some loose sort of control. The dragon men, one on each side of the beast, tugged at guiding ropes. The human stablehand, meanwhile, was attempting to use a pitchfork to prod the beast toward an open doorway just to the creature’s right. Two other humans stood to the side, one of them binding a wound on the left arm of the other.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, my lord! Nothing!” Ssarekai bowed quickly. He and the other dragon men in the stable differed in some ways from the warriors most humans saw. The reptilian riding master and his helpers resembled, for the most part, their fiercer counterparts, but unlike the Dragon Kings and their warriors, these drakes were without crests. Instead, they appeared to be wearing round helms that partially covered the inhuman faces within. No hissing dragon’s head adorned the top. Ssarekai and his kind were members of the servitor caste, a caste rarely seen, since most often servitors generally remained in or around the clan caverns.

  The drake turned back to the struggling hands and hissed out a command that Aurim did not catch. The workers redoubled their efforts. Another pair of humans entered the stable. They raced to each side of the stubborn monster and joined the two drakes holding the guide ropes.