“The ceremony will top this visitation off grandly,” the Dragon King was saying. “It wasss an excellent suggestion, would you not say, friend Cabe?”
Only half aware of the conversation, the ebony-haired mage nodded. “It was.”
“It wasss Grath’s idea, you know. I only dissscovered that this day.”
“Grath’s-” Cabe stirred, but before he could say anything more, the Green Dragon had turned from him.
“Excuse me, Massster Bedlam, but my emperor desiresss my presence.”
“Grath’s idea?” whispered the spellcaster. It made sense the more he thought it through. The ceremony had not seemed like the sort of notion Kyl would have come up with on his own. He was intelligent, there was no denying that, but such a personal display was not generally his way. Grath . . . now that was more reasonable.
He caught sight of the younger drake, ever near Kyl’s side. Now and then, whenever the emperor-to-be looked hesitant, Grath would speak. In fact, Cabe now noted that Grath generally spoke only when necessary. He was like a shadow of his elder sibling.
Two emperors. The drakes would be gaining two emperors, not one. Taking another drink, the sorcerer was glad that at least one of them could be trusted.
The Dragonrealm needed such an emperor if it was to have peace.
Two days later, in the early hours of the day, the drake emperor-to-be journeyed to the necropolis in which were buried the kings and queens of Talak. He was accompanied by Cabe, Gwendolyn, Kyl, the Green Dragon, and, of course, the royal family. Darkhorse was not with them, having said that there were things to which he had to attend. A contingent of the royal guard had escorted the group to the tall, iron gates of the vast cemetery, but Melicard had ordered them to follow no further. The necropolis was a sacred place, a place of final peace. Here the king demanded that his ancestors and those others buried here received the quiet they deserved.
The day was as Erini had said it would be. A light mist lent a sense of tranquility to the morning, putting everyone into a contemplative state of mind. Even Kyl seemed changed. He was subdued, perhaps thinking about his own heritage. In some ways, his background was much like that of Melicard. Both their sires had been driven mad, then had died because of that madness.
Despite his differences with the young drake over the Bedlams’ daughter, the warlock could not help but feel some sorrow for Kyl . . . and Grath, for that matter. He also felt relief that they did not hold him responsible for the Dragon Emperor’s madness. After all, Cabe had only been defending himself.
They were led through the cemetery by the master groundsman, a surprisingly young if pale man with white hair. Cabe had expected an ancient cadaver clad in black, enveloping robes, but the groundsman, while indeed clad in dark, respectful clothing, would have belonged among the courtiers at the reception save for the short, eagle-headed staff he carried.
“He is new,” Queen Erini whispered to the Bedlams, “but his family has held the post for the past two centuries. Roe knows and reveres this place as much as anyone could. His own family rests nearby, as is only just, considering the care they have given this place.”
On the queen’s other side, Princess Lynnette stared at the surrounding mausoleums and tombs with childlike fascination. She had been here many times before. Melicard had insisted that she come to know the history of her family the moment she was old enough to understand. Lynnette had little fear of the necropolis, which had surprised Cabe until the petite princess had told him that she could never be fearful of a place where so many members of her family watched over her.
The tomb of the kings and queens of Talak was actually a series of interconnected mausoleums that had gradually spread across much of the necropolis. Cabe had actually expected a massive ziggurat, but the low, flat structure before him was by no means inferior to the pyramid of the spellcaster’s imagination. Elaborate gargoyles stood watch over the doorways, the latter of which were flanked by thick, marble pillars bearing the royal crest. Talak was unique in that its human rulers had risen more or less from one family line. The people of the mountain kingdom had been very loyal to their monarchs.
The master groundsman led them to the grand entrance of the structure, a more recent addition that enabled one, so the guide said, to find their way to any of the crypts, including the most ancient. As they approached, however, Cabe heard a slight rustling from all around them. He was suddenly alert, his powers already gathering for whatever stalked them.
A band of armed and hooded men appeared from within and around the entrance.
No magic that the warlock could detect had been used to camouflage them; these men were simply adept at concealing themselves. The warlock had never seen an armed force in a cemetery, at least not before now. They were not of the royal guard, for instead of the eggshell breast plates, these men wore chain mail under their cloaks. The sentries, a full dozen, resembled to Cabe avenging wraiths risen from the grave. They eyed the newcomers blankly, somehow radiating a sense of dread power. Cabe was surprised to sense a bit of power among them. So far, that power had not been used, but it was potent enough that he remained wary.
The master groundsman raised his staff. “Stand aside for King Melicard I, the Queen Erini, Princess Lynnette, and their most respected guests!”
The guards did not move despite the command, and it took the warlock little time to realize why. He doubted that drakes had ever sought entrance to the necropolis before, much less the royal crypts.
Roe waved his staff at the reluctant guardsmen. This time they obeyed, albeit casting distrustful glances toward the drakes in the party. The master groundsman waited until they had stepped aside, then turned to his charges.
“My liege, I must apologize for this behavior.”
It was Kyl who replied, “Pleassse, King Melicard! Assure him that I underssstand the hesssitation.”
“Again, that is most gracious of you, Lord Kyl,” Queen Erini said. She looked pointedly at Melicard, who nodded.
“Lead on, Roe,” the king commanded, putting an end to the incident.
The groundsman led them up the steps and to the doors, which opened up as the party reached them. A pair of gray sentries stood at attention behind the doors. Cabe found the situation rather ironic. Melicard had left his soldiers at the gate in respect to the dead, at least so he had indicated, but the monarch had failed to mention that his ancestors had protectors of their own, protectors with sharp weapons and secret magic.
If the party had expected a dank, frightful tomb, they were disappointed. It’s almost as if we were walking through the libraries of Penacles! was the warlock’s first thought. The corridor connecting the various crypts was clean and, if not well lit, at least sufficiently illuminated. Cabe wondered if the rest of the necropolis was so well preserved.
“This way,” announced the keeper, pausing to point to a corridor to the party’s left. They followed him down the new hall, passing empty spaces in the walls that were obviously reserved for the future. Cabe shuddered and saw Gwendolyn do the same. Neither Erini nor her daughter seemed bothered by the reminders of their mortality, perhaps because they had come here so often that the crypts no longer held any anxiety for them.
The corridor was short and ended in a stairway leading into the earth. Roe began to descend, with Melicard close behind. The Green Dragon also had no qualms about the descent, but Kyl and Grath both froze. Then, the emperor-to-be stiffened and literally forced himself down the steps. Grath hesitated only a bit longer. The queen and her daughter followed after them.
Bringing up the rear allowed the two spellcasters to take a moment to ready themselves. The enchantress squeezed Cabe’s hand, took a deep breath, and started down. Grimacing every step, he shadowed her, trying not to think about the sort of hole they were entering.
The remainder of the trip was thankfully short. The names and faces carved into the stone plaques became more recent until at last the party confronted the final resting places of Rennek IV and his
wife, Queen Nara, who had died many years previous to her husband.
It should have been darker, for a single candle was all that was burning when they arrived, but the master groundsman’s staff proved to be a surprise-the head glowed brighter the darker the path became. Thus it was that the illumination available to them was almost as great as if they stood out in the open air.
Before Kyl was permitted to begin, the king had a ceremony of his own. One day each week he journeyed to this place, often with his family beside him. A wreath already hung over each of the stylized images of his parents, wreaths fairly fresh, since Melicard had been here four days prior. Nonetheless, the king removed the wreaths by hand, then reached into a sack he had been carrying. From it the monarch of Talak brought forth new wreaths, which he then placed where the previous pair had hung. Melicard then stepped back and knelt before the two plaques.
He spoke, but was so quiet that no one else could hear what it was he was saying. Cabe did notice the queen silently mouthing words, tears running down both cheeks. She, at least, knew what her husband was saying.
After several minutes, the king rose. There was a hint of moisture on both cheeks, which disconcerted the warlock a little since the one eye was only supposed to be a carving. The magic of elfwood, however, was a mystery to even the most learned. There was argument as to the extent of its ability to mimic life. Over the years, Cabe had come to the opinion that elfwood did more than mimic.
Now at last it was Kyl’s turn.
He signaled Grath, who carried a bag similar to the one the king had been holding. The younger drake reached into the bag and pulled out not a wreath, but rather two bundled packages about half the length of his forearms. Grath gently opened each bundle, revealing what at first appeared to be a pair of roses. He held out the roses to his brother, and as the dragon heir reached for them, they caught the light.
The roses glittered. The sight was breathtaking. Only now did those gathered realize that the scarlet flowers were not real, but rather sculpted from some magnificent crystal. In every detail did they match or, as impossible as it seemed, surpass their real counterparts. It was almost possible to believe that sniffing one of the sculpted roses would reveal a tantalizing fragrance.
No one spoke as the drake stepped forward and placed one rose before each of the two plaques.
Straightening, Kyl broke the silence. “May thesssse lasssst as a sssymbol of both regret and hope, King Rennek, Queen Nara. Long after the beauty of a true rossse would have faded, let the not ssso cold beauty of thessse pieces show my pain at what my kind hasss done to thisss kingdom. Let it alssso symbolize my promissse to the lords, both passst and presssent, of thisss mountain kingdom that the days of terror are now forever passst. I cannot remake all of what wasss lossst thanks to my sssire and hisss predecesssorsss, but I shall do what I can; that I ssswear in memory of all of you!”
There was more after that, much of it concerning regret to Rennek in particular for the atrocities of Kyrg and Toma, who in the name of their sire and emperor, had been willing to do most anything, no matter how vile. Kyrg had paid the penalty at the siege of Penacles and no one had seen Toma in years, but the memories of the terror the duo had spread remained vivid to those who had been involved, including Cabe. Kyl’s words faded as the warlock pondered the evils of the drake dukes and their master. He knew that he would not rest easy until he was certain that Toma had followed his brother and his emperor to oblivion.
The young drake finished. It was an elegant and worthy speech, no matter what the true reasons behind it. The king was too intelligent a man to fall prey to pandering, but it was impossible for him not to be affected by something such as this. Erini had tears in her eyes.
Kyl turned to Melicard. “I hope I have acted with sssensitivity toward your esssteemed progenitorsss, my lord. If you find the rosesss not to your liking, I will replace them with sssomething elssse.”
“The fire roses were . . . appropriate,” replied the king. His voice shook a little. “I’ve not seen such beautiful work in years.”
“The skill isss almossst lossst. A ssservitor in the Manor knew how to make them, but had not done ssso since coming there. When I was made aware of sssuch skill, I had him make thessse two with the original intention of them being given as farewell giftsss to your lovely queen, but that changed when I dissscovered I had no proper token to bring to thisss ceremony. I hope you will forgive me, Queen Erini.”
“Of course I will. They shall have a place of honor down here, Lord Kyl,” the queen said, her eyes still a bit moist. “I will see to it.”
“I thank you. Perhapsss when I return to the Manor, I will be able to convince Osseussss to make another pair for you.”
“Osseuss?” Erini glanced at Cabe and Gwendolyn. “A good thing then that we were able to prevent a terrible injustice. It would be a tragedy for the world to lose such an artisan!”
Cabe, who had never been aware of the servitor’s talent and wondered how Kyl had come to know, had to agree. The roses had been the crowning touch to the drake’s performance, a perfect complement to the carefully crafted, yet emotion-turning speech he had given. Even Grath and the Dragon King had been touched by it. Roe was staring at the dragon heir as if seeing him for the first time.
There was nothing more to be done here, but it was several seconds before Melicard appeared able to organize his thoughts. His gaze darting back to the roses, he commanded, “Have someone watch these closely, Roe. I want nothing to happen to them. I also want you to personally devise the best way to keep them safe here. They must never leave.”
“Yes, my liege.”
Again there was silence. At last, Erini seized control of the situation from her husband. “I think it’s time we return to the palace. I have arranged for a midday meal in the gardens. I hope that will meet with your satisfaction, Lord Kyl?”
The drake bowed. “Mossst assuredly, Your Majesty.”
“Good! Master Roe, if you would be so kind as to lead us back to the gate?”
“As you wish, my queen. Please follow me, everyone.”
The master groundsman started down the corridor, Melicard and the others following. Gwen took Cabe’s arm, both of them more than happy to be departing this place. They waited while Kyl, Grath, and the Green Dragon followed the royal family, then fell in place behind the drakes.
As the party wound its way toward the steps, the Dragon King suddenly looked back at the warlock. He said nothing and but a moment later returned his attention to the trek. With the only true light emanating from the staff that young Roe carried, it was a struggle to see the expression on the half-hidden face within the dragonhelm, but Cabe was almost certain that he had read in the eyes of the drake lord a deep sense of satisfaction at the outcome of this ceremony. Things, as the Dragon King had put it at the reception, could not have happened better than if they had planned it.
Strangely, the warlock could find no comfort in that thought.
IX
They’re back! Valea’s heart rose as she heard the rattle of wagons and the voices raised in cheerful greeting. Ursa, sitting beside her, glimpsed the expression on her companion’s face, but said nothing. Valea knew that the drake was aware of how her human friend felt about her brother. Ursa herself associated little with either male. Drakes were more divisive; females tended to associate with females and males with other males, save in matters of mating, of course. That was changing as living among humans affected the drakes here, but the change was a slow one that would need generations.
Ursa had never spoken against Valea’s desires, which the young sorceress had decided meant that while she might not approve, the drake was also not going to interfere. That was probably for the best. The novice witch would have felt terrible if the friendship the two had developed over the years was destroyed by this.
She waited for Ursa to rise, but when the drake made no move to do so, Valea finally flung herself from her chair and rushed to the window. For the past few
days, she had spent nearly all of her free time either in her chambers or in the gardens-anywhere that allowed her seclusion. Other than Ursa and the very understanding Benjin Traske, she found the company of others to be cloying, especially when that other was Aurim, who seemed to think that while he was in charge he was their father and mother combined. Around other folk she could not let her thoughts drift, could not dream of Kyl and the future she wanted.
Now she did not have to dream. Kyl was back . . . and in triumph, of course. Valea had expected no less from him. She peered out the window and watched as the caravan entered the Manor grounds.
There he was! Riding at the forefront. Father and Lord Green rode with him. Valea’s mother and Grath close behind. Kyl was in high spirits. Everyone seemed to have a smile on their faces, although her father’s was slight. Even Darkhorse was there, but the eternal’s presence did not thrill her as much as it had when she had been younger. She still loved the shadow steed’s company, but being what he was, he could never understand the emotions coursing through her. It was very likely that if she told him of her dreams, of her belief that Kyl might flout everything and make her his bride and queen, Darkhorse would act just like her parents. Everyone knew that he despised drakes.
“Do you see them?” asked Ursa, finally coming to the window.
“Yes! There they are!”
Her alluring companion followed Valea’s gaze. “Things certainly seem to have gone well.”
Ursa’s perfect profile caused a brief twinge of jealousy in the young witch. She was aware how beautiful and exotic the drake seemed to males of both races. Then she consoled herself with the thought that to Kyl she was exotic. He was used to the magical splendor of female drakes and Ursa was, after all, his sister. Besides, was it not to Valea that Kyl paid the most attention? If he did not think her beautiful, then he would not have continually pressed for her favor.
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Page 50