“You will face danger enough,” her betrothed continued. His grip had changed from a spontaneous one designed to keep her from falling to one that threatened to never release her from his side. Erini would have been happy enough to suffer such a fate. “The Dragon King will note fairly quickly that there is a sorceress aiding in the defenses. You may be personally assaulted.”
The princess shivered. She felt herself brave, but…
“I have something for you.” One hand released its hold reluctantly, vanished, then returned, this time bearing a familiar-looking object.
“This is Quorin’s talisman.” Erini tried to push it away, wanting nothing to remind her of the insidious man.
“Not his, but one similar. Stronger. It was once mine. I’ve not worn it for some time, not since after the… you’ll need it more.”
She accepted it reluctantly, knowing this was one point it would be useless to argue over with him. As he placed it around her neck, a sudden, insane fear crept over her. “Melicard. Do you think we have any chance?”
“Talak has stood before. We also have Darkhorse. He’s promised us the aid of the Bedlams, and I know from past experience that they are up to the task.”
“Where are they? Why haven’t they arrived yet?”
“Who can predict what these spellcasters will do?” He leaned closer and whispered, “I have enough trouble with just one. The one who so readily saved my soul after I twisted it into something of a mockery.”
“It wasn’t that difficult. You’d had nearly twenty years of free life. I only reminded you of what that life had offered once.”
Melicard broke away from her. “Which reminds me also of the tasks at hand.” He snapped his fingers, summoning four men he had borrowed from Iston’s complement. “Escort her majesty to her quarters and remain there. See to it she gets some rest.”
Both of them knew that the princess could easily bypass her watchers with the aid of her abilities, but Melicard also knew that Erini felt guilty about the trouble that her accidental departure had caused them during the coup. The princess knew he was counting on that.
Before allowing herself to be escorted away, Erini stepped over to Melicard for one final time, reached up, and kissed him in full view of the others. She was going to get a reputation for being brazen at this rate, she knew, but there was always the chance that something terrible might happen while they were separated. Reluctantly separating herself from the stunned king, Erini rejoined her escort and gave them permission to depart. For her own sake, she dared not look back until she knew for a fact that Melicard was no longer in sight.
In the halls, it seemed impossible that there was still a great threat to the safety of this city—her city. The palace was nearly silent. Only if she listened closely could she hear men running or marching in the distance. One last patrol was searching through this massive edifice in the remote possibility that some of Mal Quorin’s men were still in hiding.
Captain Iston, on his way back to the king, stopped her in the hall. His face was worn, but he looked willing to take on the entire horde if that would keep his mistress safe. His mistress and one other, based on the first words that escaped his lips. “Galea! Your majesty! I—I beg your pardon! I wanted to ask—”
“—if I could see how Galea was doing?” Though they had failed to spirit her away, Iston and his men had succeeded in rescuing her two ladies. Unfortunately, Iston had never had any time to actually speak with Galea. Knowing how difficult it had been for her to leave Melicard, Erini smiled and added, “Of course, I will. You have my promise.”
“My deepest gratitude, your majesty.” The officer bowed and hurried on his way.
The walk to her personal chambers was uneventful, with the exception of the notion, which rose twice in her thoughts, that Shade was so very nearby. Once, she stared at one of the walls, thinking he was there. The second time, Erini had the oddest feeling that she had just walked over an area where the warlock should have been standing. It puzzled her once she realized that he was in neither of those two places. Why would she imagine such a thing? Had recent events finally taken its toll on her? Was Erini losing all sense of reality?
Sleep began to look very wonderful, very precious. Melicard was correct; if the princess did not sleep, she would be useless to him when the siege began.
Before dismissing her escort, she peeked into the rooms belonging to Magda and Galea. Magda, ever in control even after surviving a coup attempt, looked up from where she was sitting. Beside her and lying asleep in bed, was Galea. The tall woman rose and walked quietly over to her mistress.
“Yes, your majesty?”
“How is she? How are both of you?”
“She feared more for your life and that of her dashing captain that she did for her own. Galea is worn out, nothing more. I promised to sit with her for a while in order to calm her nerves. As for myself… I get along.”
Erini could not help smiling slightly at Magda’s attitude. “You are a rock that both of us sorely need.”
“I live to serve my mistress.”
“I’d be lost without you. When Galea awakes, tell her that her officer asked about her. He’s fine. I also want you to get some rest, Magda. Even you have to sleep.”
“The same could be said about you, your majesty. I’ll tell her and do as you say. I must admit to some difficulty with keeping my eyes open.”
“I know the feeling. Sleep well, Magda, for we may all need our wits about us come the morrow.”
“The morrow is almost here already,” the plain woman commented. “May you sleep well, also, my lady, and please summon me if you have need of my services.”
“Thank you.”
Her escort stayed with her to the very end, even insisting on following her into her chambers. Not until every corner and every closet had been inspected, evidently at Melicard’s command, did they deign to depart. Even then, two of them went no farther than the corridor outside. Erini was tempted to tell them the futility of such an action, but knew it was likely her betrothed’s way of easing his own fears—though he knew as well as she that sorcery made it too easy for her to leave without anyone noticing.
Alone, the princess was tempted to fall face-down into her pillow and lay there until sleep overcame her, which would not have proven much of a struggle, judging by the way she felt merely gazing at the bed. She found her thoughts intruding again; this time concerning the terrible situation they would probably find themselves in come daylight. If only Darkhorse had been able to warn them! she thought wearily. They would be here by now!
He had tried. She knew that. Unfortunately, the commander had assumed it was the eternal who had killed Drayfitt and that he was a servant to one of the Dragon Kings. It was a wonder that all the stallion had suffered was a momentary exile to—to—whatever plane had apparently spawned him, if she understood correctly.
If only Melicard could have spoken with his men. He had mentioned once having methods for that, but, as with so many things, those methods had fallen under his “loyal” counselor’s control. Now, they were no longer available. Quorin had been very thorough in his work.
Drayfitt, Erini thought sadly. Drayfitt could have created something. He could have—
It occurred to her at that point that she had the potential to do anything the elderly sorcerer had been capable of doing.
The notion excited her, brought new energy to her worn body and mind. If she could somehow contact Melicard’s forces in the Hell Plains, she might be able to convince them to turn around. Then, it would be up to Talak to hold out until the army returned. Surely with foes coming at him from two sides, even the Dragon King would be forced to capitulate or flee. Melicard had also mentioned his smaller armies of the north and west. While the princess did not quite understand under what circumstances Quorin had tricked them, she could only assume that if she was successful with the first, then she stood a good chance of contacting them as well. From there, time would be what mattered. Erini h
oped the Bedlams would arrive before it was too late.
How would she do it? Drayfitt had shown her little. Yet, the one thing he had always emphasized was, magic, in any form, worked more easily if one allowed it to come to oneself naturally. Allow her inner self to make each spell almost automatic. Few people had the ability or the patience to do that, which was why there had never been that many spellcasters of significant ability even prior to the Dragon Kings’ secret purgings following the unsuccessful Turning War.
The first thing she needed, Erini decided, was a comfortable but firm place to sit. Had she been, say, the Lady Gwendolyn Bedlam, she knew that it would have taken perhaps just the blink of an eye or the wave of a hand to perform the deed. Not having experience or the feel of sorcery, the princess was forced to do everything step-by-step. Hopefully, there would be time later on for someone to assist her in her practice.
While the bed looked most comfortable, the floor seemed more practical. Erini did not want her spell ruined because the softness of her bed made her too sleepy. The floor was comfortable, but in no way conducive to rest—at least, not yet. Erini knew that, once her initial enthusiasm faded away, it would be near impossible for her to stay awake regardless of where she was or what she was doing.
Seating herself on one of the carpeted areas, she closed her eyes and tried to picture men encamped in a violent, smoke-filled land. They would be rising about now, Erini supposed. She pictured the tents, saw the sentries, and imagined the details of their armor, the last based on those she had seen the palace guards wearing. The images faded briefly as exhaustion tried to seize the moment while her eyes were closed tight. Blinking, the princess cursed under her breath and tried again.
The images grew sharper in her mind, but that was all they were—images. She could feel no connection between herself and anyone in the encampment. With growing disgust, Erini realized that she knew none of the officers by face, much less by name. How, then, could she hope to make contact with them? Was her only hope the possibility that she might be able to transport herself to the encampment? Would that even work? To date, her abilities had worked haphazardly at best, even taking into account Mal Quorin’s damnable medallion.
Her concentration was interrupted for what she considered permanently by the return of the feeling that there was another in the room with her, another by the name of Shade. Erini leapt to her feet, teetering ever so slightly. Nothing. For the space of a breath, she had felt his presence so near that it would not have surprised her to find him staring over her shoulder. Her weary mind succeeded in coming up with an answer that satisfied her for the moment; her erratic senses had no doubt picked up on the traces left behind by his previous visitation. That she had not noted them in the days between now and the time of that incident did not occur to her.
Defeated, Erini slumped onto her bed. The appeal of falling asleep in her clothes renewed itself. Her arms were lead; the weight of the palace seemed to have been placed on her head. She wanted nothing but sleep now. Perhaps after some rest, the princess hoped, she would have some success.
A hesitant knock on her chamber doors stirred her. “You may enter.”
It was Galea. There were rings under her eyes and it looked as if she had just woken up. She had dressed hastily, for her clothes were wrinkled and her hair was in complete disarray. “My lady?”
“What is it, Galea?”
The other woman looked perplexed. “You summoned me, your majesty.”
Had she? Try as she might, Erini could not recall doing so. Perhaps Galea had only dreamt that she had. “I’ve no need of you now, but if you have a moment, I have a message for you from someone important to you.”
From the way her companion’s eyes lit up, the princess knew that Galea had already guessed who that certain someone was. Trying to smooth her hair into something more organized, the robust woman stepped respectfully inside, closing the door behind her. She hurried over to her mistress, unable to hide her anxiousness.
Erini started to speak, then clamped her mouth shut as the feeling of the two of them not being alone threatened to overwhelm her. She glanced quickly around the bedroom.
Galea looked at her in slight confusion. “Is something amiss, my lady?”
“I’m not—” the princess turned to her, intending to calm both Galea’s worries and her own—and found herself staring into eyes that no longer saw, but gazed blindly into the emptiness next to her. “Galea?”
The gentle woman did not move. Erini could not even tell if she was breathing.
It had not been her imagination and in her weariness she had failed to understand that.
“Greetings to your majesty,” a voice uttered indifferently.
Even before her gaze turned on him, she knew it was Shade. He stood near the mirrors, which had turned black and opaque in his presence. Erini idly wondered whether there was something the warlock did not want to see.
Shade slowly strode toward her. His face, though shadowed by the immense hood, was quite distinct this time, a complete change from their accidental meeting. A lock of silver hair hung down across his forehead. Erini shook her head, not believing any of this. Not now! Not after everything else!
“I find I have need of you, Princess Erini. Other matters… well, you wouldn’t understand, I imagine.”
She tried to open her mouth to scream for help, not knowing who or what could save her from this, but her lips seemed sewn shut.
“My apologies, but I have more to say and much to do.” He reached forward, not for her, Erini noticed, but for Galea. The princess reached out to block him, but her movements were uncoordinated for some reason and she only succeeded in falling over herself. As she tried to rise, Erini caught a glimpse of Shade whispering to the other woman. Galea nodded, still deep in the trance.
Darkhorse! Where was Darkhorse? Managing to come to a kneeling position, the novice sorceress tried a spell, any spell, that would alert someone, preferably the ebony stallion, to her predicament.
“Mustn’t do that,” Shade’s hand was suddenly on her shoulder, though the warlock had been elsewhere a moment before. Galea was nowhere to be seen. Tears of frustration tumbled down her cheeks. She looked up into the cursed warlock’s visage and tried to convey her anger with her eyes.
He almost looked sympathetic. His next words even carried a tone of slight remorse with them. “I do not know why I am explaining myself to you. You are my only choice. I have to act now—who can say how long a better choice than you might take to come along? My time is limited and I find I grow more impatient.”
Her eyes narrowed as she pictured Darkhorse confronting and defeating him. Shade smiled knowingly, almost as if he could read those harsh thoughts. “Your savior will not notice your absence for some time to come. At present, he is chasing… me, you might say. Something to keep him busy.” Shade held up the fingers of both hands and counted names off. “The Bedlams sleep. I owe them that much for now. They will sleep for quite some time. Your Melicard has a mighty horde approaching his very doorstep and, counterwise, the Dragon King Silver has an entire city prepared to face him. Poor Drayfitt, my sad benefactor, is dead—an unfortunate accident of his own doing.”
There were still several fingers up as the warlock completed his insane recital. Erini studied them closely, still keeping a faint hope alive. Shade looked from her to the raised fingers and then slowly lowered them. “The rest were merely spares, I’m afraid. There’s no one else.”
He pointed a single finger in her direction and indicated that she should rise. There was no choice in the matter; Erini’s body responded without her cooperation. The hooded warlock nodded in satisfaction.
“I could have taken you in a much more violent manner, princess, but I’m trying to be reasonable. You have no idea how calm I’ve been. I could have leveled this city with your precious Melicard in it. The Dragon King would’ve been annoyed; he so wants to take Talak in one piece. There’s so much I could have done, but things turned out for
the best after all, so I suppose there’s no use pursuing the subject.”
Erini could say nothing, do nothing. Only her eyes allowed her any opinion at all. They spoke volumes, mostly concerning the madness of the creature before her.
Shade frowned and purposely looked away, only to find the blackened mirrors confronting his gaze. Turning back to his captive, he smiled again. It was a different sort of smile, though, one tinged with guilt; an emotion Erini found it hard to accept that the warlock would feel under the present circumstances.
“You may survive,” he added, almost hopefully. “If you do, I’ll return you safe and sound to here—or Gordag-Ai if the drakes succeed here. You have my oath on that.”
She gave him one last glare, telling him what she thought of his promises.
The warlock grew oddly unsettled. “We have to go now.”
As Erini struggled futilely to make her body respond, Shade wrapped his seemingly endless cloak about both of them and pulled her toward him. The world seemed to warp around them—and then they were elsewhere.
XX
SHADE!”
Darkhorse struck the wall of the cellar he had materialized in only a few seconds before. As with his previous stops, the only trace of his adversary was a minute trail left behind by the warlock’s method of travel. The previous thread had led him here—but then, the last trail before that and the ones before that had all led him along.
That was the truth of the matter, Darkhorse finally admitted to himself. He had been led along. He had fallen for yet another ploy by the warlock, who had spent each and every lifetime during his curse plotting and planning tricks for the incarnation yet to come, not to mention the hundreds of enemies he had gathered over the centuries.
“Damn you!” The shadow steed kicked through the wall. He stepped back, annoyed and embarrassed. If he was not more careful, he would do the Dragon King’s work for him. How ironic it would be for the inhabitants to discover that the palace had collapsed due to the efforts of one of its defenders.
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. II Page 27