Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

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Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Page 48

by Richard A. Knaak


  The guardsman was still not convinced. “But Your Majesty! We can’t just-”

  “Are you questioning the word of our guests, Captain? If so, you will also be questioning mine, because I find I agree with them in this matter.”

  As if that was not enough in its own right to crush what protest there was left in the officer, Darkhorse added, “And if you question the word of my friends, then know you that you also question my word!”

  Seeing that there would be no more interruptions, the queen did the unthinkable. She held out her hand to the prisoner. He stared at it for several seconds, trying to decide what she intended. When it was clear that Erini did not plan to withdraw the proffered hand, Osseuss reluctantly took it. He rose, then executed a perfect bow.

  “Can you find your way back on your own now?”

  The drake hesitated. His reptilian eyes continued to flicker between the queen and the captain. A forked tongue darted out and in as he nervously considered her question. “I . . . I am not sure.”

  “I would give you an escort, but I think that emotions run too high for that at the moment.”

  “I will return him to his companions.”

  Everyone looked at Darkhorse, whose attitude so far had been surprising. He had sided with a drake and now offered to see that same drake back to safety. It was almost amusing. Osseuss was at least as fearful of the eternal as he was of the guards.

  “Are you certain you wish to do that, Darkhorse?”

  The ebony stallion chuckled. “I thought I had just said so! Do you doubt my word, Your Majesty?”

  “Never.” The queen smiled. “Thank you, then.”

  “I am your servant!” Darkhorse trotted up to the still-anxious drake. The captain of the guard-and the rest of the guards, for that matter-retreated as the shadow steed neared the prisoner. “Come with me, dragon!”

  Osseuss looked to his master and mistress for confirmation.

  “Go with him,” Cabe responded. “There’s nothing to fear.”

  It was clear that the servitor could have argued that point, but he nonetheless obeyed the warlock. The circle of guards gave way for the duo, the nearest soldiers wisely deciding to lower their weapons as Darkhorse trotted by.

  Erini watched the strange pair depart, then summoned the recalcitrant officer to her. “I want you to know that your loyalty is commendable, Captain. These next few days will be difficult for all of us. Caution is good, but we must never lose control.”

  There were many things that the guardsman probably wanted to say in response, but this was his queen and so he could only obey. The captain saluted her. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

  “You may resume your duties, then. I wish you the best of luck. This will be a taxing situation for you and your men, but I have every confidence in your abilities.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  The captain organized his men and led them off in record time. Only four soldiers still remained, the personal guard of the queen herself.

  “I thank you, Erini,” Gwen said when the captain was gone.

  “It was a mistake; I saw that, too. I was glad that you were there to verify it for me, however. My skill at sorcery will never be as great as either of yours.”

  “Yours is formidable enough. You have done us proud.” The queen had been the Bedlams’ first student and, so far, their most promising. The handful of spellcasters that had been brought to Penacles were, for the most part, folk who would never be able to do much more than light fires with a glance or lift small objects into the air. There were one or two who might go beyond that, but so far no one who had the potential to even remotely approach the power of either the witch or the warlock.

  This did not mean that such did not exist. Cabe could count four whose powers were adequate at the very least. Three of those worked for King Lanith of Zuu. The other was a wanderer, a blond beauty who had used the name Tori and who had, at one point, attempted to seduce Cabe. Considering the way these four had turned out, the sorcerer wondered whether or not it was a good thing that so few others of any measurable might had appeared so far. The present crop of spellcasters was not by any stretch of the imagination a shining example of what a new age of sorcery might offer the world. Too many people already feared those like the Bedlams, who had done them no harm at all. If more like Lanith’s lackeys appeared, the reputation of sorcery would only be tarnished further.

  Queen Erini had blushed slightly at the compliment. “I thank you for your confidence in me, Gwendolyn.” Her expression changed almost immediately. “But enough about that. I am glad that both of you are here. If you will excuse me for one moment. . . .” She turned back to her daughter and the remaining sentries. “I believe it is almost time for your lessons, is it not, Lynnette?”

  The little princess made a very unladylike face, but under the queen’s steady gaze she finally nodded. “Yes, Mother.”

  “I thought so. Then you had best be on your way-” Erini raised a hand as her daughter started to run off. “Not like that and not without some company. Also,” she added in softer tones, “it would be nice if I could have a hug first.”

  Smiling, Lynnette rushed over to her mother, who leaned down and took the girl in her arms. They held one another tight, then Erini reluctantly allowed her daughter to slip away. Lynnette curtsied to the two mages, then returned to the guards. One pair followed the princess as she started back toward the palace.

  Queen Erini sighed as she watched her only child depart. “It gets hard to watch them grow up so fast! I remember when she was but a baby!”

  The Bedlams were quiet but sympathetic, understanding all too well the sensation the queen was experiencing.

  “Enough of that!” The slim woman looked at her two old friends. “I am glad you happened along, because I have need to talk to you. Melicard has agreed to the ceremony taking place soon after the formal reception but has not set a specific day and time. Do you have any suggestions?”

  Cabe looked at his wife, who smiled back at him. Turning her gaze back to the queen, the Lady Bedlam replied, “We were just discussing that very subject before we heard the soldiers!”

  “And what did you decide?”

  The warlock could not resist. “My wife the royal counselor thought that the day after tomorrow would be best. It would allow a day of calm for all of us after the excitement of tonight’s reception.”

  Erini could not hold back her smile. “The royal counselor may be correct. I was thinking along the same lines. What time of day would the royal counselor suggest?”

  “To be fair,” began Gwendolyn, giving Cabe a piercing but playful stare, “I think the royal counselor’s husband should contribute on that matter.”

  “And what do you say, royal counselor’s husband?”

  Unschooled in the eccentricities of proper royal behavior, Cabe had no idea what time of day would be appropriate for such a solemn ceremony. Thinking of his own preference, he hesitantly answered, “In the morning?”

  Erini considered this for quite some time. Cabe hoped that he had not erred in some way. Better to face an angry Dragon King than try to muddle his way through the idiosyncrasies of the monarchy.

  “Yes, the morning might work. I have always thought that there was something captivating about the first few hours of the day, something touching the soul.”

  The warlock relaxed.

  “I will take your suggestions to my husband. If he finds them agreeable, then they will be presented to Lord Kyl and Lord Green.” The queen hugged them both. “Thank you, both of you. I always know that I can depend upon your sage advice.”

  “We’re glad to help in any way we can,” Cabe returned. Gwen echoed his sentiments. Erini was a good friend.

  “The day after tomorrow,” repeated the slim monarch. “In the morning. Early, so that the wonder of a new day will touch us all . . . those of us who can appreciate morning, that is.”

  “How fare the preparations for the reception this evening
?” asked the Lady Bedlam, changing the subject.

  “Everything is moving swimmingly. I have been planning for this day since it was first suggested some time back. The food will be ready. The ballroom is being prepared even as we speak. All the arrangements are proceeding exactly as I hoped.” Some of the queen’s high spirits faded. “Now, if only the guests could be so obliging. Not everyone thinks that peace with drakes is a good thing.”

  Drakes eating and drinking alongside the cream of Talak’s leadership. Cabe tried to hide his own anxiety from Erini. It was one thing to have a private supper between the two rulers, but the reception invited so many new and unpredictable elements into the situation.

  “I’m sure that they’ll-”

  “Erini! Are you all right?” called a frantic voice.

  They turned to see the king come rushing across the lawn. Behind him and having difficulty keeping pace with the distraught monarch were Baron Vergoth and Melicard’s personal guard.

  “It is all right, Melicard! I-” The queen had no chance to say more, for the tall form of her husband suddenly enveloped her.

  “I just spoke with the guards protecting Lynnette! Curse those drakes! I’ll have the whole bunch of them slaughtered, with that snake who would sit on the throne beheaded before the entire city!”

  “Melicard!” Erini’s eyes were wide with fear, but fear for her husband and her people, not for herself. “You will do no such thing! Think what that would mean! The rest of the Dragon Kings would see no choice but to fall upon Talak with their full combined might!”

  “I do not care!”

  “But it was a mistake! The drake did nothing! He was lost and happened to wander too near. The sentries saw him and mistook his presence for a threat, but he was only trying to find his way back to the others. If anyone was in danger, it was him! Just ask Cabe or Gwendolyn.”

  Melicard turned his unsettling gaze toward Cabe, who was forced to steel himself when the unseeing, elfwood orb fixed on him. “What is she saying?”

  “The truth,” the warlock responded. He did not allow the king any time to argue. “It was a servitor drake. They’re more inclined to work than assassinate. This one was scared out of his wits. Your guards did their duty,” he added, not wanting to sound too recriminating, “but in this case they had nothing to fear.”

  “Where is this . . . lizard?”

  “Darkhorse led him back to the others. Both my wife and I will vouch for the drake, Melicard.”

  “As will I, husband.” The queen forced the hesitant ruler to look at her again. “It was nothing. Perhaps the guards still worry because they are not used to even the presence of a drake in the city, but they were wrong if they told you that I was attacked.”

  The king stilled, but the tension had by no means left him. Why did this have to happen now? wondered Cabe.

  Baron Vergoth dared speak. “Shall we locate this drake, my lord? Question him ourselves?”

  Melicard stared at his bride. Erini gave him a look of defiance. “No, Baron. Not this time. It seems we were mistaken.”

  The aristocrat looked rather disappointed, but he nodded.

  “Thank you,” whispered Erini. She hugged her husband, then gave him a light kiss. “And thank you for your concern.”

  “I would give up all of Talak if it meant your safety.”

  “Let’s hope it will never come to that, then, shall we? I think the people deserve better.”

  With some effort, the king turned to the Bedlams. “I thank you two for your assistance in this matter. I also apologize for any inconvenience that this may have caused you.”

  The sorcerer would have liked to have said something concerning the fact that the one who had suffered the most inconvenience was the drake Osseuss, but such a bald statement would not have sat well with the king. Instead, he replied, “I hope that this doesn’t make Kyl more reluctant.”

  Beside him, Gwen gasped. For once, he had thought of the ramifications before she had.

  Melicard, too, saw the possible consequences. “I will have a most sincere message relayed to the Lord Kyl. You also might inform him of my regrets, should you see him before the messenger does.”

  “As you wish.” Cabe was too relieved about Melicard’s acquiescence to point out that he was hardly at the beck and call of Talak’s master. “I’m glad that everything is back to normal.”

  “Nothing will be back to normal until those drakes are gone,” the lord of the mountain kingdom snapped. “Even after that happens, I doubt if we will ever be able to relax! For the sake of my family and my people, I hope that I am wrong, but the history of the drakes, at least during my lifetime, has been fraught with nothing but troubles.”

  “Hopefully,” interjected the Lady Bedlam, “this visit will alter that.”

  “Yes . . .” Melicard squeezed his wife hard, but his eyes never left the mages. “I hope it will, but you would all be wise to remember what I said earlier: if I find any proof, any at all, of a threat to either my family or my kingdom, I will take the drakes, no matter what the cost, and execute each and every one of them . . . beginning, I think, with Lord Kyl.” Melicard released Erini and began to turn toward Baron Vergoth and the guardsmen. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a reception to prepare for.”

  The king, trailed by his men, stalked away, leaving in his wake three silent, thoughtful figures.

  VIII

  Throughout the day and into the evening, various folk in the kingdom of Talak were greeted with an unsettling sight. Before them they would suddenly find the dread legend known as Darkhorse. The demon steed appeared in the alleys of the dankest parts of the city, the open fields of the surrounding countryside, and even among the silent ancestors of the king laid to rest in the royal necropolis. Those who stayed around long enough to observe the shadowy form might have noticed how the glittering, blue eyes of Darkhorse took in everything, as if the legendary creature was seeking something. Yet, whatever it was, Darkhorse did not appear to find it. Through the day and into the evening the shadow steed searched, reluctantly foregoing his quest only when light finally gave in to darkness.

  There was, after all, a reception he had been requested to attend.

  If things are going so well, then why does it seem as if everyone in the room is about to burst from tension?

  Cabe sipped his drink and watched the proceedings. Kyl, flanked by Erini and Melicard, was being introduced to various members of the kingdom’s aristocracy and civilian leadership. The king knew the importance of maintaining a balance between the two groups. In Talak, the divisions between the aristocracy and the upper-class merchants were less strict than they were in some kingdoms. Living under the continual shadow of the Dragon Emperors had a way of drawing people together. That, however, did not mean that the two groups did not constantly attempt to gain some advantage over one another.

  Kyl was not a lone drake among humans, however. Next to the monarchs were both Grath and the Green Dragon. Grath followed every introduction with avid interest, while the Dragon King kept a wary eye on everyone. Farther back, an honor guard consisting of a dozen drake warriors, Faras and Ssgayn first and foremost among them, stood at attention, willing to take on the entire palace if need be. While outnumbered by the Talakian guardsmen, Cabe had no doubt that the drakes, if given the opportunity, would be able to wreak great carnage in defense of their lords.

  As a sorcerer of renown, Cabe had not needed to dress for this occasion, but Gwendolyn had insisted on it. Therefore, the mage now wore a dark, dignified outfit akin to those once worn in the courts of Mito Pica. Cabe considered himself a survivor of that kingdom, his foster father having raised him in the wooded lands surrounding the city. The outfit consisted of dark blue pants and coat and a high-collared shirt of gray. Black, shin-length boots completed the conservative suit. In truth, the suit would have been considered conservative even in Mito Pica, for the sorcerer had decided to forego the more decorative aspects of his former kingdom’s tastes. Even doing th
at, however, did not make the suit anything a proper mage should wear.

  The Lady Bedlam, however, was by no means so reserved. She was clad in a dazzling gown of emerald and pink that had many of the elite of Talak looking a bit on the shabby side. Cabe could not think of another woman in the ballroom who was more beautiful, more resplendent, than his wife, an opinion he suspected was shared by many of the male merchants and aristocrats, for some of them seemed almost as attentive to her as they were to either their monarchs or the drake heir.

  Yes, everything seemed to be progressing smoothly, but now and then Cabe would catch a frown or a surreptitious glare among those gathered. Just enough to keep him tense.

  The last of the introductions were made. After a short conversation with the king and queen, Kyl turned to Lord Green and said something. The Dragon King shook his head, but Kyl was adamant. At last, the Green Dragon nodded.

  Kyl signaled to Grath, and the two began to walk unprotected among the Talakians.

  “I don’t know whether he’s amazingly brave or simply majestically foolhardy,” said Gwendolyn as she rejoined Cabe. “We had best keep a careful eye on him.”

  “He does wield power of his own.”

  “Yes, but this is Talak.”

  His wife had a point. If ever there was a place where the people would be prepared against dragon tricks, it was the mountain kingdom. “What’s he hoping to accomplish by doing this?”

  She took a sip from her goblet. “That only Kyl and maybe Grath know. Kyl says that he wants the people to really know him, to understand that he should not be feared the way his father was.”

  “The Talakians don’t fear him as much as they hate him.” It was a sweeping statement, even Cabe would have been willing to admit that, but it held more than a grain of truth. The most evident hate was that of the older soldiers and aristocrats, the ones who could still recall the days before the last Dragon Emperor’s death. Baron Vergoth could be numbered among those, although he was much more expert at hiding that hatred than many of his contemporaries. The warlock did not care for the way the baron’s eyes followed the dragon heir. Had looks truly been able to kill, Kyl would have been dead now, a blade in his throat. Vergoth, fortunately, was too loyal to his king.

 

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