Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

by Richard A. Knaak

  Kyl exhaled as he removed his hand. “You are Grath.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “We could not be certain. We could not trussst that it wasss you, brother.”

  Grath eyed him, an enigmatic expression on his face. He glanced Valea’s way very briefly, then returned his gaze to Kyl. “Do you trust me, Kyl?”

  The heir was surprised by the question. “With my life!”

  “And you should know that I want nothing more than to see you on the throne. That is why you must trust me now.”

  Valea did not care for Grath’s tone. She took a step toward him, not quite certain as to why he was making her nervous. “What do you have in mind, Grath? Do you have some sort of plan in mind for dealing with Toma?”

  He looked at her. “You have tried to contact your parents?”

  “I couldn’t find my father and something prevented me from contacting Mother.” Grath’s calm was annoying her. Did he not realize how dire a situation they faced?

  Grath reached up and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That’s what I wanted to know. Thank you.”

  She wanted to ask him what he meant by such an odd response, but then she noticed the buildup of power within him. Too late did she realize that she had yet again been betrayed. As she tried to pull free of his grip, a grip suddenly tight and painful, her body refused to follow her desires. Instead, Valea found herself unable to move, unable to even speak.

  “What have you done to her?” snarled Kyl, realizing too late that his brother had cast a spell on the startled witch.

  Grath looked beyond his brother. “Faras. Ssgayn.”

  She could still see, and so at the edge of her vision Valea was able to watch as Kyl’s two trusted bodyguards seized hold of their emperor-to-be and kept him pinned by the arms no matter how much he struggled.

  “We are sssorry to do thisss, Your Majesssty,” Faras added with much anxiety.

  Grath stood before his brother. “If you will calm down and listen, I can have them release you that much sooner. I am sorry about this, but you didn’t look as if you were going to wait for me to explain. Will you please do that now, Kyl?”

  “I ssseem to have little choice in the matter, brother!”

  “Actually, you have much choice. Do you remember our conversation just a short while ago? How we talked about the throne and the troubles it has brought? We talked about Toma, didn’t we?”

  Grath’s transformation dismayed the frozen Valea. She had always known him to be a studious, somewhat shy person. He had always walked in the shadow of his brother, although even she would have been willing to admit that Kyl had always benefited from his advice. Now, however, Grath more resembled a smooth, cunning courtier, like some of those the young Lady Bedlam had met among the aristocracy of Penacles or Talak.

  Kyl did not reply to his brother save to reluctantly nod.

  “We’ve talked about Toma, our brother, before. You and I both know that he wasss loyal to our father and remained with him long after the other Dragon Kingsss had abandoned him. You know that he wasss there to rescue us from Lord Ice when we became caught between the machinations of the mad lord of the Northern Wastes and Master Bedlam. Among all the drakes, Kyl, you will have to admit that no one hasss been more loyal to the throne than he.”

  That was not quite the history that Valea had grown up knowing. It was close enough to the truth, however, to disguise itself as fact. Her father would have been able to relate the entire tale, but she doubted that anyone but she would have listened.

  “I remember the Northern Wastes, I think,” Kyl admitted with reluctance.

  “Toma can never be emperor. You know that. I know that. He knows that. He has known that for years. Therefore, only one path was left open to him. Despite the need to hide, despite the enemies who have sought to kill him because he represents the might of the emperor, the duke has continued to work to see the day that a new, stronger leader will bring our kind back to the preeminence we once held.”

  Slowly, Grath stepped back to the bolted door. He reached for the bolt. “No one is more regretful than he that all his work had to be done under the guise of another. He had hoped to present himself to you after your crowning. His life would have been yours to take or end there. At least the goal he has sought for the last several years would then be secure.”

  Valea tried her best to break the spell that held her, but Grath had cast it too well. She doubted that even Aurim would have been able to escape.

  Unbolting the door, the younger drake seized the handle. He looked so very apologetic to his brother that Valea wanted to spit in his face. “Kyl, I present to you one who isss not your enemy, has never been your enemy, but rather has been your most loyal servant . . . even moressso than I, I have to admit.”

  The drake swung open the door. Valea’s heart sank as Benjin Traske entered.

  “Ssscholar . . .” Kyl muttered, more awestruck, the sorceress was sad to see, than fearful.

  “Not scholar, my lord,” said the massive figure, and even as he strode forward, he resembled less and less the bearded tutor and more and more something terribly inhuman. Then the scholar began to melt. The heavy girth became a river of glowing liquid that faded as it poured away. Yet, while Benjin Traske grew thinner, he also grew taller still.

  Traske’s clothing also changed. Quickly the scholar’s robe became armor, scaled armor that covered the teacher from head to toe. His hands twisted and the fingers lengthened, becoming much like those of either of the brothers.

  Kyl gaped and Grath smiled as the face also became something different. The stern, bearded visage pulled in and the head reshaped itself, at last forming a partial shell. The shell defined itself into a helm within which the last vestiges of Benjin Traske reformed into the flat, incomplete features of a drake warrior. Yet, unlike most drake warriors, the helm of this one had as elaborate a dragon head crest as any of the drake lords themselves.

  Crossing the little distance that still remained between the two of them, the immense drake warrior stopped, then knelt before the dragon heir. Within the false helm, the lipless mouth curved into a toothy smile.

  “Your Majesssty,” announced Grath as he shut the door and bolted it again. “It pleases me to presssent your mossst humble and loyal ssservant, Duke Toma of Kivan Grath.”

  XVIII

  Cabe wound his way through the vast underground cavern of the Green Dragon, his escorts trying their best to keep pace with the hurrying warlock. Having known the Dragon King for as long as he had, Cabe could have transported himself directly to the main hall of the subterranean labyrinth without asking permission, but he had needed the time to think. Think and plan.

  “This way,” he muttered, turning down yet another corridor. The guards and guide stumbled after him. None of them thought to order him to slow down, for everyone who followed the master of the Dagora Forest knew of the warlock and how powerful he was said to be. He was also known to be a friend and ally of their lord. If there had been some question as to his motives, then they would have tried their best to either capture or kill him, but it would not have been something any of the guards would have looked forward to with eagerness. They were quite aware of their chances against the robed figure stalking ahead of them.

  Only at the end of the corridor did Cabe at last pause. Here at last was the great central chamber that the Green Dragon utilized as his throne room and hall. Here the Dragon King met his guests.

  Unlike the caverns of most of his counterparts, that of the Green Dragon was covered with lush plant life, most of it of the kind that should not have been able to thrive so far from the sun. Yet, thanks to the power and skill of the drake lord, vines, shrubs, and flowering plants made the chamber resemble more a forest than a cave. Over the past few years, the Dragon King had redesigned this hall, adding further to his vast collection of foliage.

  In the midst of the underground grove and seated upon his throne was the armored form of the Dragon King himself.
He was flanked on each side by the fiercest pair of guards that Cabe could recall ever having faced. As was typical of Lord Green, one of the guards was a drake, but the other was a human. It was debatable which was the more terrible of the two. The Green Dragon prided himself in carrying on the ways of his predecessors; here, humans and drakes were almost as equal as at the Manor. What made things different in Cabe’s home, however, was that it was a human who ruled there, not a Dragon King. The experiment at the Manor represented the first time that drakes had ever coexisted peacefully with humans in a place where they did not dominate. The idea had been the Green Dragon’s.

  There was so much about his host that the warlock had always admired.

  “Thank you for coming, Friend Cabe.” The reptilian knight indicated a chair that had been set near his throne. The chair was set on a level with the Dragon King’s own, which was supposed to indicate the drake’s long-standing belief in the equality of the two races, but the mage had always noticed that both Lord Green and his throne stood taller. He had often wondered whether that was intentional, or whether the Dragon King had simply never noticed it.

  “Thank you, but I prefer to stand.” Behind him, his escorts vanished down one of the other tunnels.

  The Green Dragon straightened a bit. “As you desire. You know the contents of the missive, then?”

  “Gwendolyn informed me, yes. It’s not surprising when you think about it. Not even the fact that Lord Blue is coming here. Of all the Dragon Kings, other than yourself, of course, he is the only one I would trust enough to allow entry, temporary entry in his case, into the Manor.”

  “Yesss, I trust him, too. The others are upssset, Friend Cabe, although none of them would be able to give you the same reasons.”

  Cabe frowned. “Imagine what they would have been like if the assassins had succeeded in murdering Kyl. Thank goodness for Grath, if that should happen.”

  It appeared to take Lord Green time to translate what he was saying. “Yesss, we may be thankful that if some tragedy did seize the life of the heir, may the Dragon of the Depths prevent such, there would be Grath to step in and take hisss place.”

  “We’ve often commented to one another that he would make just as good, possibly better, an emperor as Kyl.”

  The Dragon King shifted position. “That we have, which is not to say that Kyl isss not already coming into his own. He will do sssplendidly, I am sure.”

  Cabe walked around the chair set aside for him. He stared the drake lord in the eye. The warlock heard the guards suddenly straighten but paid them little mind.

  “You are the one who sent the assassins to murder Kyl. You, my Lord Green, tried to have your new emperor killed. We both know that, don’t we?”

  The guards readied their weapons and started for the warlock, but the armored tyrant raised a mailed hand. Both warriors paused, but the glares they gave Cabe Bedlam were dark and murderous.

  “Friend Cabe, are you aware of the wordsss you jussst spoke? We have known each other since you firssst were forced to acknowledge your heritage. I consider you and yours not only close allies but close companionsss as well.”

  “Which doesn’t change the fact that you tried to murder Kyl and ended up murdering Toos.”

  There was an edge to the Green Dragon’s voice. “How could you sssay something like that?”

  “You captured Darkhorse,” the bitter sorcerer went on, ignoring both the questions of his host and the seething faces of the guards. “As good as tortured him by using that box. I think that you had confidence enough to handle everyone but Darkhorse . . . and you found a way to make use of his power, too. You forgot one thing, though. I know you as well as anyone does. We’ve discussed the history of the Vraad over and over. I’ve seen your collection, and I know from my own researches some of the tricks and toys that my unesteemed ancestors devised, especially when they realized that most of them were losing their vast powers.” Cabe folded his arms. “There was also the band of assassins that I was supposed to think was part of an Aramite plot. Drakes and humans working together on this? Did you want to be discovered, my lord? Was that why you made it so obvious to me?”

  He knew that he had really said little that could directly be tied to the Dragon King, that would have been considered proof by anyone, but to the warlock’s sad surprise, the Green Dragon slumped back in his throne. He glanced back at the guards and commanded, “Leave usss, pleassse.”

  With obvious reluctance, the two obeyed.

  When they were alone, the lord of Dagora finally spoke. “I do not know whether I desssired to be found out, Cabe Bedlam, or sssimply wasss so full of anxiety and horror at what I was doing that I did not take more care. Yesss, I am the one responsible for nearly assassinating Kyl and inssstead killing the brave and honorable regent of Penacles.”

  Try as he might, Cabe could no longer stay angry. Instead, disappointment was all he felt. Great disappointment. It was as if the world he had known had proven to be a falsehood. In some ways, it was even more terrible than when he had been torn from his uninteresting existence as a server at an inn and thrust into a world of sorcery and intrigue. He had learned so much from the Dragon King, shared so much with him. There were few beings that the warlock felt comfortable with; in the small circle of true friends he had thought he had, the Dragon King had been one.

  Yet, after what the drake lord had done . . .

  “I did what I felt was necessary, warlock. Kyl was an arrogant, conceited creature who threatened to repeat the mistakes of hisss sire. Grath, who the powersss that be had brought to this world after his brother, wasss by far a more level sssort. He would deal with the relations of both races fairly, evenly. Kyl might suddenly be of the mind to reconquer the continent, plunging usss all into a war none can afford. He might even be the great enemy of hisss own kind, for I know that he still holdsss much bitterness toward sssome of the surviving kings for abandoning his predecessor. Kyl isss even the sort who might find the renegade, Toma, more of an ally than a danger.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  The Green Dragon rose from his throne and looked down at the human. Cabe did not flinch, much less back away. “I do not.”

  The warlock matched his counterpart’s gaze. He was not pleased, however, when the Dragon King finally looked away. Things should not have deteriorated to such a point that the two had to attempt to stare one another down. “Kyl had Grath to guide him.”

  “But our esteemed emperor-to-be doesss not have to listen to hisss brother. Should Kyl grow furiousss at something Grath suggests, he has only to order his brother from hisss sight. Then, the voices that whisper in his ears will become those of my fellow kings’ spiesss. Where would the Dragonrealm be then? No, the only certain method by which the stability of the throne could be assured was to remove Kyl and replace him with Grath.”

  “I don’t agree.” Cabe shook his head, still unable to completely believe that the figure before him had created so much chaos and tragedy. “That also doesn’t condone what you did to Toos and Darkhorse-or the Gryphon. Toos was a brother to the Gryphon, my Lord Green; you saw what the general’s death meant to him. He wants the one responsible. So does Darkhorse.”

  The inhuman knight started to turn away. “I did what I knew had to be-”

  “Don’t turn from me!” roared Cabe. Without meaning to, he almost unleashed a spell on the recalcitrant monarch. Cabe barely contained it in time, and the power was such that his body glowed red for several seconds afterward.

  The Green Dragon stared at him, jaw hanging. The warlock calmed enough to see that, for the first time, the Dragon King was truly afraid of him.

  “I should tell them the truth, you know! Both Darkhorse and the Gryphon deserve to know. Do you realize the extent of Darkhorse’s claustrophobia? He existed in a place without time or end. I know that the Vraad used a box very much like that to capture him! He’s never told me everything, but I’ve never seen as much terror in his eyes as when he is reminded
of that!”

  “What did you do with the box?” interrupted the drake lord.

  “I still have it. It damned you more than anything else; I could recognize your knowledge in it. No one else had access to such an artifact, and no one else would have understood it the way you do!” Again, the accusations were flimsy, but now that Cabe had had confirmation of his suspicions from the Green Dragon himself, the claims had weight. “There was so much. The spells that masked one magical trace with another. The cloaks of the assassins-men you callously assured would not live so that anyone questioning them would discover the truth. They died too easily, Lord Green. Even the Aramite. More futile deaths on your shoulders.”

  “I will take no blame for their deaths, Cabe Bedlam! They were condemned criminals, one and all. They would have been executed. I am not like Black, who would carelessly send his enchanted human legions against the walls of his enemies again and again until the mindless unfortunates either overran the foe or died to a man!”

  The warlock, his face carefully neutral, shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re like anymore.”

  “I am as I have always been.”

  “That worries me even more, then. What will you decide next serves your needs? The deaths of me and my loved ones?”

  The Dragon King hissed and his talons unsheathed. “Of course not!”

  “How can I believe that anymore?”

  For several seconds, the tall, armored tyrant stood there, eyes burning embers, claws at the ready. Then, the talons slowly sheathed and the fire in his eyes died. Lord Green returned to his throne and slumped back into it again. “There isss no promise that I could give you that you would believe, isss there?”