He braced himself, knowing the attack would come. A moment later, the alien presence returned to the crystal, trying to force its way past his will. Thelvyn had expected something like that. If they could control him, they could force him to betray himself and his friends, or they could even destroy him as they had slain the enslaved wizards in their own world. He had been aware of the risks from the first, but he had to test his will against that of the Masters so that he would know if he could fight them on their own terms.
The attack surged forward with such confidence that Thelvyn prepared himself for the worst, concentrating firmly upon his own willpower. Even so, he was barely able to hold his own in those first moments by devoting the full power of his resolve to fighting the vague presence. Finally the deepest magic of his very being seemed to respond on its own, raising an insurmountable barrier of power to shield his mind from his mysterious attacker. For a brief instant, he could feel the alien will pressing against his own, and he sensed that his unseen opponent was struggling to summon every last iota of its power to throw against him. Suddenly the force of the alien will faded quickly and was gone.
"Are you quite finished?" he asked the crystal, not quite sure what else to say.
I am finished with you. . for now, the strange voice echoed inside his head. Perhaps I have underestimated you. You are surprisingly clever."
"And lucky," Thelvyn said, refusing to be taunted into any debates.
And most assuredly lucky, the alien voice agreed. It would seem we are both at a disadvantage, since each of us knows little about the other's situation. But I know a good deal more about you than you know about me. I have been watching you since long before you ever became aware of me.
"That may be true," Thelvyn answered cautiously, "but as you are also well aware, everything about me and all that I am was designed to fight you. Your return has been anticipated for centuries. You are not going to find me unprepared."
True in part, perhaps, but only in part. You try to threaten me, and yet your words only prove how little you actually know and how unprepared you really are.
"You sound very sure of yourself," Thelvyn said evenly. "You seem determined to keep making that mistake, and I don't see it as my place to correct you. But I must remind you that the Dragonlord and the Great One defeated you once before."
Whatever happened long ago did not involve me and is not my concern, the voice replied scornfully. You cannot oppose me without the support of the dragons. And you have no idea of my strength.'"
"We can only see," Thelvyn answered vaguely. He was growing suspicious of new traps, especially since his enemy was willing to speak for so long after losing control of the red crystal. This seemed like a good time not only to break the contact but also to destroy the jewel before it could do any more harm. After looking about the room quickly, he carried the jewel over to the dark fireplace and set it on the cold metal grate, then stepped back. While he had little experience in trying to direct his will, he had found the crystal easy enough to control so far. A strong response was probably essential to such a magical artifact, which had to link the minds of its users across worlds. The small crystal flared with a sudden brilliant red light before flashing a blinding white. The crystal itself was shattered into dust, and the gold broach was half melted.
Responding to the sudden flash of light, Sir George rushed into the room to discover what had happened, then paused just inside the door. Thelvyn was bent over the fireplace, prodding the remains of the crystal with a poker. Alessa remained in a crumpled heap on the floor.
"Are you all right?" Sir George asked.
"I'm fine," Thelvyn insisted, setting aside the poker. "Let's see if our slumbering beauty is ready to wake up and talk to us."
Alessa was slow to come around. Sir George bent over her and worked at her for a couple of minutes. When she finally started to respond, she recovered fairly quickly. Sir George helped her to sit up, and she rubbed her eyes.
"My word, I feel dizzy," she said.
"That should pass quickly enough," the old knight told her. "How does your head feel otherwise?"
"Not too bad," she insisted weakly. "Did someone hit me?"
"It was the only way to save your life," Thelvyn told her. "The Masters somehow have a way to command their victims to die-very painfully, I might add. I've seen it happen with some of the missing members of your order. I had to get you instantly into a state where you were unresponsive to their commands."
"Oh, my," Alessa said, surprised and contrite as she began to realize what had been going on. "I suppose I should thank
you."
"If you don't mind, I think we should go back to Solveig's house," he said. "We can explain a few things to you on the way."
Alessa's carriage was brought around again, and Sir George used the ride back to Solveig's house to explain things from their own perspective. The more Alessa learned about the situation, the more furious she became. She had grown to take her role as the defender of the Flaem very seriously. Sir George and Thelvyn hadn't yet had a chance to see that for themselves, since she had already been under the control of the Masters by the time they had returned to Braejr. But Alessa now seemed every bit as fair and conscientious as Solveig had insisted, and the awareness that the Flaem had been enslaved and manipulated by the Masters distressed and enraged her greatiy.
They brought Alessa into the kitchen, where they could sit her down at the table and give her something warm to drink. She was beginning to get a headache, and Sir George hurried to fetch a small bottle from his collection of medicines and magical potions. He brought back a small brown bottle that he popped open, then instructed her to sniff the white vapor that rose from the container. She felt better almost at once.
"That's a hangover potion I got from Perrantin a few years ago," he said. "I've never needed it myself, but I thought it would work for your problem."
"I should be grateful it wasn't poison,"-Alessa remarked sourly.
"Nonsense. We want you to talk before we kill you," Thelvyn said teasingly. "Tell us about the Masters."
"I wish I could tell you more," she said. "Unfortunately, I was never privy to their secrets. They had no need to explain anything to me, only to ask me for information and give me their instructions. I never thought to question anything. I only wanted to serve him, because he spoke to me in ways that made that seem like the right thing to do."
"Who is the Overlord? I know about the Masters, and one of the wizards mentioned this Overlord, but that's all I know. I suspect I may have talked with him tonight."
"Possibly," Alessa said. "I know almost nothing of the Masters because my dealings were never with them. I suspect the Masters serve the Overlord, since he speaks as if everyone serves him."
"Is he one of the gemstone dragons?"
Alessa shook her head firmly, her eyes wide. "No. I've seen the gemstone dragons in my dreams, when the Overlord usually spoke to me. When he spoke in my dreams, I sometimes saw a vision that looked vaguely like a dragon, but far more horrible."
Kharendaen looked confused. "What's horrible about a dragon?"
"In your dreams?" Thelvyn asked, ignoring Kharendaen's question. "Did you dream of a desert world where a cold wind always blows and the sky is always dark?"
"Why, yes," Alessa agreed, surprised. "I believe that's the world where the Flaem lived before we came here. Where we lived for many years as slaves with other races and strange beasts gathered from many worlds. We were forced to tend fields sheltered from the wind and the sand by tall mountains, and we built many strange devices of metal in dark fortresses. I've seen such places in my dreams. They seemed more like memories that were blocked from our minds when we were sent here as unwitting slaves to make ready for the invasion."
Thelvyn nodded. "I've suspected as much."
"This fortress that you described, where you found the Collar of the Dragons," Alessa continued. "It's nothing more than an outpost. In my dreams, I've seen far greater fortr
esses somewhere north and west of there … a vast complex of massive stone buildings, where the Masters live among their armies of slaves. That is the place of the Overlord."
"That could be a useful thing to know," Thelvyn said. Sir George looked somewhat concerned.
"There are a few other things I can tell you, but you must understand that I am only guessing now," Alessa said. "I suspect there is an even larger worldgate somewhere in our world, one that corresponds to the gate in the main stronghold of the Masters, from where they will launch their invasion. I suspect they have many gates opening into different parts of our world."
"I thought as much," Thelvyn said. "That explains how they were able to attack so many places in our world at the same time and disappear again. The Masters must have scouted this world thoroughly before they made their first attack. I've always wondered why the Fire Wizards spent so much time and effort assembling that huge library. It never seemed to do them any good. Now I wonder if the real purpose was to provide information to the Masters."
Sir George shrugged. "That seems reasonable. Did you learn anything from your litde talk with the Overlord?"
Thelvyn looked smug. "Yes, I think I did. . more than the Overlord intended, at any rate. He told me a couple of things that didn't make sense until just now. He said that he had no involvement in the first attempt of the gemstone dragons to conquer our world, and Alessa suspects that he himself is not a gemstone dragon. I wonder if, whep they fled this world, the gemstone dragons met up with the Overlord and fell under his control. They might be just another of his race of slaves and, like Alessa, don't suspect it even yet."
"Could we find some way to break his control?" Solveig asked. "If we could do that, perhaps we could turn his own armies against him."
"That could be," Thelvyn said cautiously. "If we can block his will, or if I can destroy him, then our worries are over. Otherwise, I doubt we can do anything to stop him short of defeating his armies."
"How can we possibly fight the gemstone dragons?" Alessa asked, obviously still unsettled over what had happened. "Especially without the support of the dragons."
"As it happens, we do have their support," he told her. "When I told you the dragons had rejected me, it was only because that was what I wanted the Masters to hear."
Alessa sat up straight, staring at him. "What are you saying?"
"Thelvyn is the Dragonking," Kharendaen explained. "He has the support of the Nation of Dragons, and they are preparing for war. The Masters have underestimated us, and we prefer to keep it that way."
"We'll have to move quickly to make use of any advantage," Thelvyn said, then glanced over at Solveig. "I don't want to be a bother, but can you put those griffons somewhere else and convert the warehouse back into a lair for Kharendaen?"
"I can have it done tomorrow if you want," she agreed. "Why?"
"Because the time has come for me to be a dragon. After tonight, I won't be taking this form except when I must."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The first hint of trouble came from the sentries along the northern border of Rockhome, where from their posts in the mountains they could see out across the steppes of Ethengar. They thought at first that the steppes might be on fire, in spite of the spring rains. They could see a haze of dark smoke just beyond the horizon, and after a time, herds of frightened horses thundered over the plains, fleeing some terror from the north. Not far behind the herds, the clans of the Ethengar were retreating across the steppes as well, setting aside their old rivalries with one another in their desperation to escape a common danger. They were still many long miles out on the steppes, but they were fleeing as quickly as they could. And there was no indication that they would stop until they left the grasslands behind, heading straight into the mountains.
Soon a delegation from the Ethengar appeared out of the steppes, seven young warriors, each from a different clan but riding together in a common cause. Each of the riders led two horses in reserve, so that their mounts would always be rested and able to keep a quick, steady pace. They rode directly up
the trade road to the main dwarvish stronghold of Fort Den-warf and requested permission to ride on to Dengar. They claimed to bear important news for the dwarves as well as a plea for their own people. After speaking hurriedly with the captain of the fort, they were issued special papers of safe conduct and allowed to pass.
The Ethengar rode well into the night, changing their horses frequently until none of the poor beasts could run any farther. Only then did they stop for a time, making a simple camp through the deepest part of the night. They were on their way again well before dawn, so that midmorning found them approaching the gate of Dengar. Crews were still at work on the walls, repairing the damage from the night of the attack. The riders presented themselves to the guards at the gate, showing the papers they had been given at Fort Den-warf the day before. They were led through the city at once to the stables of the main garrison, where their horses would be tended to. Most of the riders chose to stay with their mounts, but their spokesman and two of his companions were immediately escorted down the long, winding passage to the lower city.
The deep passages of Dengar seemed very dark and close to the Ethengar, who were riders and warriors of the open, windswept grass, used to the sun and the stars. The only roofs they had known in the past were no more solid than the canvas and skins of their tents. The nomads were not actually frightened to find themselves in such an alien place, but they did look about the tunnels nervously for a time. But mindful of their pride, they marched behind their escort, trying to appear calm and unconcerned as they were led across the length of the lower city to the palace.
As they were led into the throne room, they found that they had arrived at a busy time. King Daroban was seated at his throne. Both of his sons stood close at hand, while many generals and advisors were gathered as well. They had all been listening to a report from a foreign messenger, a Thyatian captain to judge from his uniform, while the king was glancing at a written report at the same time. They all turned to stare as the escort announced these new visitors to the court.
The Ethengar spokesman approached the throne, bowing upon one knee in the manner of his people. "Great King of Rockhome, I am Kaihatu of the clan of the Red Horse. My companions and I have left our people in their time of greatest need to bring you news of great danger. We are all of many clans, once enemies, now brothers brought together by urgent need, for invaders have come among us, and the steppes have been overrun.
"The first attacks came three nights ago, when dragonlike creatures fell upon our clans like eagles descending upon their prey, scattering our herds and setting fires among our wagons and our yurts. I say that they were like dragons in shape and size, and yet they were unlike dragons in appearance. They did not hide themselves by the light of day but flew swiftly over the steppes, spreading their terror and destruction. Their armor is like the facets of costly jewels, some like rubies or sapphires, or like amber, or white crystal or dark onyx. Never before have we heard of such dragons."
"The gemstone dragons," King Daroban said, nodding slowly. Then he glanced at the Thyatian. "The Dragonking spoke true. Not that I was inclined to doubt the message you brought from the Dragonking, but I'm certain that even he never expected an attack so soon."
"Perhaps not," the Thyatian answered. "The Masters know that they have been unmasked, and their attempt to sow fear and distrust of the dragons has failed. Now that the time for secrecy has passed, they might believe they would be best served by moving quickly, before we can gather our defenses. The Dragonking may have anticipated such a thing, but what more could he have done?"
"True enough," Daroban agreed, then turned back to the Ethengar. "This is Darius Glantri," who left Braejr this very morning on his way to Thyatis, bearing the Dragonking's warning of these gemstone dragons. He has been kind enough to pause for a brief time to share that news with us, unaware just how relevant that news would become. At least now we know many things
that might have otherwise remained a mystery to us for days yet to come."
"You call them the Masters," Kaihatu said. "The name suits them well, for they were soon followed by other invaders, men and also many strange creatures who are not like men or elves or dwarves. Hordes of terrible monsters have been released upon the steppes to spread their own terror. The Masters guide and command all the others."
"Those would be slave races subject to the will of the Masters," Darius explained. "Do you have any idea of the number of these Masters and their warriors?"
Kaihatu could only shake his head. "They move too swiftly and they are spread all across the northern steppes from east to west, but they are strong and the clans have no choice but flee before them. Their numbers are like the blades of grass. There are scores of the gemstone dragons but not, I think, more than a hundred altogether. Their warriors are gathered in armies of perhaps five thousand, and we know of at least five such armies. There could be even more farther to the east and the west, beyond sight of our clans."
Daroban sighed. "What can we do? Your enemy is the enemy of all the people of our world, and we stand with you against them. Even so, we do not have the strength to help the clans drive them from the steppes."
"The steppes are lost already," Kaihatu answered. "The clans flee before these invaders. I have come only to bear you this warning, for we cannot say yet whether they will be satisfied to hold the steppes, or if they will drive on south into your land. The best that you can do is to prepare all the strength you have to protect your border. I bring only this one plea, for in truth, the clans cannot remain in the steppes or they will die. Allow our people to flee into your own wild lands, to hide themselves in your northern mountains."
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