Legends of the Dragonrealm Vol III Part 34
"Yesss, I did hear your voice after all, Lord Darkhorssse! I give thanksss to the Dragon of the Depthsss that you have come back to usss whole!"
"Did you think it would be otherwise?" returned the shadow steed, an astonished tone in his voice.
Kyl frowned, as if wondering if he had offended the eternal somehow. Darkhorse was famous for his almost childlike self-confidence. "Of course not! I trussst your journey wa.s.ss little fraught with danger?"
"A little excitement! Nothing more!" Before the heir to the dragon throne, Darkhorse would want to show no weakness whatsoever.
"Good! I know that you do not eat a.s.ss we do, Lord Eternal, but I would be remisss if I did not invite you to sssup with usss thisss evening."
"I have already eaten," replied the shadow steed with a quick glance to Cabe. "If you do not mind, I would prefer to begin a search of this region. One never knows what one will come across."
"Yesss. La.s.sst night it was Ssseekers."
"Oh?"
The Dragon King had informed his future emperor of the previous night's incident. Cabe had wanted to make little of the incident, knowing it would only sow more anxiety, but had agreed that Kyl certainly had a right to know. To Darkhorse the warlock said, "I'll tell you everything that happened the first opportunity I have tonight."
"I would be pleased to hear!" Darkhorse gouged the earth with one ma.s.sive hoof. "The knowledge of the birds' intrusion makes me all the more determined to survey the surrounding region. Your Majesty, I thank you for your kind offer! Rest a.s.sured, one way or another, we will speak before this excursion ends."
Kyl executed a bow. "I look forward to it, Lord Darkhorssse!"
A sardonic laugh escaped the shadow steed. "Not, 'lord,' my lord! Never is Darkhorse lord of anything, save perhaps the nothing from whence I came. I am to my friends simply known by my name; to my enemies, I am Death!"
The dramatic announcement was followed by another chuckle. Possibly out of habit, the drakes cl.u.s.tered together. Even the guards were well aware of what Darkhorse was capable of, although to their credit they remained at the forefront.
"I shall return shortly, Cabe!" roared the eternal. Before anyone could even acknowledge his departure, the shadow steed had vanished.
"We are all together," commented the emperor-to-be. "It would require a grand fool to plot mischief now!" Kyl turned to his human guardian. "Will you be joining usss at sssupper, Ma.s.sster Bedlam, or will you await the demon sssteed's return?"
Knowing that Darkhorse was safe and now watched over the camp eased the warlock's tensions a bit. Some food and drink could only help at this point. "I believe I'll be joining you, Kyl."
Even as he walked with the drakes in the direction of the heir's tent, Cabe was aware that the respite was only temporary. Before long, they would reach Talak . . . and there the times would truly become interesting.
For now, though, he would enjoy the evening. After all, a respite was still a respite.
AURIM WOKE TO the realization that there was someone in the room with him. He tried to be as still as possible. Through slitted eyes, the young warlock tried to spy whoever it was he had sensed.
There was no one within his range of vision. Aurim shifted in bed, pretending restlessness in his sleep. As he turned, his gaze swept the room.
Scowling, Aurim opened his eyes wide at the sight to the right of his bed.
A tall, thin man dressed in archaic robes was speaking to the air. Not a sound, however, escaped his lips. Had not Aurim known better, he might have thought he had gone deaf. He watched the man mouth words for several seconds before slipping out of bed to stand beside the silent intruder.
Up close, his suspicions were confirmed. He could see through the man to the window beyond.
The Manor held memories, centuries of memories, and some had a life of their own. This one was new to the younger Bedlam, but it looked similar to one his father had described. Cabe Bedlam had notebooks in which he chronicled each and every vision that appeared. Most of them remained mysteries. Over the centuries, many folk, some not human, had dwelled or pa.s.sed through the Manor. Why their traces remained behind, neither the elder Bedlams nor Aurim knew. There seemed no reason for the particular time and place the visions were seen, nor the manner in which they appeared to the onlooker. Some included sound, others, like this one, were silent. The only link seemed to be that they materialized only before a mage. It mattered not whether the chosen one had any true power; as long as the person carried even a trace of sorcery within, he or she was liable to be confronted by the ghostly memories.
Aurim's spectral orator began to fade. The warlock circled the dwindling figure, curious as to why it had shattered his slumber so. He had grown up around the visions and was so used to them that, unless they burst into existence before his very eyes, he was hard-pressed to notice them. Unlike his father, the younger warlock was no longer very interested in these particular mysteries.
Until now.
What was so special about this one? It was hardly even a true shape anymore. More a wisp of smoke. Yet, it had disturbed him.
The last vestiges of his ghostly companion evaporated.
The feeling that someone else had been in the room did not.
One spell that Aurim had little problem with was changing one set of garments to another. For the most part, it was a frivolous, minor ability that had served him only when he woke up too late for his lessons. Now, however, he was thankful, for it was only the matter of a single thought to change what he wore in bed to his mage's robes. Likely it would not have mattered had he decided to forego the change, but Aurim preferred it this way. He did not want to accidentally run into one of the female servants, especially the ones near his own age, while clad in night clothes.
It was difficult to pinpoint where the trace had originated, but Aurim at last decided that the balcony was the most likely place. The trace was just a tiny bit stronger there.
Had someone been climbing into his room? Somehow, it felt more likely that, if there had been someone lurking beyond, that someone had remained on the balcony. Perhaps his room had simply been a stop on the way to another location.
As he walked toward the balcony, a tingle coursed through him. There was no explanation, but for a moment the golden-haired warlock faltered. Then, refusing to be cowed, Aurim pushed on. He reached the opening and carefully peered out. The warlock saw no sign of an intruder, but the hint of something lingered. Now, however, it felt a little farther away, almost as if it was coming from . . .
Below.
There was someone below him, someone on the path leading into the gardens. Although he could not see who that someone was, Aurim felt he should know the ident.i.ty. He moved to the edge of the balcony and tried to probe with his power. Sorcery shielded the other, but Aurim did not give in. He knew that the potential lay within him to be more powerful and skilled than either of his parents, but this was the first time the young warlock had ever truly pushed that power to its limits. The Manor was his responsibility as much as it was the rest of his family's.
Carefully, he sent out invisible tendrils toward the hidden figure. It might only be his sister, once more pining for the drake, but if it was not . . .
His mind touched that of the intruder.
Aurim gasped. There was a familiar mind there, but underneath it, like a second layer of skin, was another mind. An evil mind and one that he belatedly realized he knew from stories. Acting instinctively, the anxious mage tried to withdraw before he was noticed. He had to warn the others! All these years, a monster had been masquerading as one of their own. Tears ran down his face. How long? How long had the charade gone on?
It was then Aurim found that he could not break the link.
It isss not polite to intrude upon othersss, boy! came the vile voice in his head.
He could barely move. A pressure built up against his mind, a pressure that seemed to be trying to crush all thought. In desperation, the young warlock tried to call out, hoping that someone might at least hear the truth. The devil that his father had often told him about was here after all these years. Here, during this most crucial of times.
"Tom . . . Toma!" Aurim croaked.
It was not enough. His voice was barely a whisper.
Aurim was overwhelmed.
HE STIRRED IN his sleep. Blinking, Aurim raised a heavy head and looked around his bedchamber. For some reason, he found himself expecting to see a ghost. While that happened now and then, for the most part the memories of the Manor did not disturb him. They were interesting to experience, but unlike his father, the younger Bedlam had never made a hobby of them.
Turning over, the warlock tried to go back to sleep. Yet, for some reason he felt a little uneasy, almost as if something had or was about to happen. Aurim sent out a weak probe, found the nothing he expected, and gave up. Probably a nightmare brought on by his new responsibilities. He had not told anyone, not even his parents, just how nervous he was about overseeing the Manor, even if only for a few days. Many people, human and drake, would be looking to him for answers.
Sleep began to take hold of him. His troubles turned to mist. Even the reason he had woke seemed irrelevant. If there had been something involved other than a nightmare, he not only would have noticed it, he would have dealt with it. Inexperienced he might be, but he had the power.
Besides, Aurim thought as he drifted into slumber, what could possibly happen here?
VI.
THE GREETING THE caravan received at the gates of Talak could best be described as grandly cautious.
The gates opened while they were still some distance from them, which Cabe read as a subtle hint from Melicard that he did not fear his guests. Knowing the king as he did, the warlock was certain that was true.
Banners hung from everywhere and the sight gave pause to more than one drake in the caravan. The flag of Talak, as designed by Melicard himself, consisted of a long, sharp sword crossing the stylized head of a dragon. The crippled king had designed it during his first years of power, when he had begun his vendetta against the race that had plagued his house so long. The vendetta was at an end-so Talak's monarch had promised-but the flag remained as a constant reminder of the king's hatred.
"Talak ha.s.ss very high wallsss," Kyl commented to no one in particular. In truth, there were few kingdoms with walls as impressive as those surrounding the mountain state. They would have been even more impressive if Cabe had not been aware that they had failed to stop the drake armies.
There were other defenses now, defenses that made up for the failure of the walls. Should there be a new conflict between the drakes and Talak, the dragon warriors would find the high walls the least of the city's shields.
Trumpets began to blare. From seemingly nowhere, people from the outer villages materialized on the sides of the road leading into Talak. There was some cheering, but overall the mood remained one of caution. More than a few of the villagers eyed the members of the caravan with suspicion. Most knew little about the heir to the dragon throne, but more than a few readily identified the Dragon King who rode beside him. Responses were mixed, albeit never approaching the point of anger. That Green had generally been a friend to humanity did not matter so much as that he was recognizable as a Dragon King.
Cabe's appearance also initiated some response, most of it simple puzzlement. His robes and the slash of silver in his hair marked him as a sorcerer of some distinction and any who followed the doings of the king and queen surely had had opportunity to learn his name. Cabe even heard "Bedlam" whispered by several people. They probably wonder why I ride with devils. . . .
Despite the size of the caravan, the presence of so many drakes, including a Dragon King and a future emperor, and the appearance of a master mage, it was Darkhorse who elicited the most response. Trotting alongside the caravan, yet far enough away so that no one might think he was some servant of the drakes, the ma.s.sive, ebony stallion could not help but draw the attention of those who, for the most part, had considered him little more than legend. A few probably had seen him before, Cabe knew. The shadow steed had visited Queen Erini too many times not to have been sighted now and then. Still, it was one thing to catch a swift glimpse of the huge, equine form and another to watch Darkhorse trot casually toward the city gates with no one attempting to stop him. A wall of silence preceded the eternal with onlookers staring open-mouthed as he pa.s.sed, then babbling to one another as Darkhorse moved on. Nothing, not even the future emperor of the drakes, could outshine the shadow steed.
Which was perhaps, the watchful sorcerer concluded, one of the other reasons that Kyl had wanted him along. With so many overawed by Darkhorse, the presence of the young heir would be slightly less fear-inspiring. They would remember Kyl, of course, but perhaps not in the same light as the elder folk would recall his unlamented father.
He succeeded in using Darkhorse after all! Cabe shook his head. He hoped the eternal would not realize that.
As the caravan neared the city walls, there erupted from the open gateway a troop of mounted soldiers. In rapid succession, they lined up on each side of the road, armor glinting, lances raised in ceremonial greeting. Melicard's royal guard. There were at least fifty, by Cabe's count, all veterans.
"An honor guard," said the dragon heir. "How consssiderate of Melicard."
Cabe listened for even the slightest hint of sarcasm in Kyl's voice, but found none. The warlock's gaze again rested on the soldiers from Talak. Despite the decorative, eggsh.e.l.l-shaped armor they wore, these men were warriors. Strong, tenacious warriors. Contrary to the ways of many other kingdoms, Melicard's royal guard was not just for show. The guard was made up of his finest soldiers, all willing to give their lives for him.
The Green Dragon raised a mailed fist, the signal to slow but not halt the caravan. While this was being accomplished, two well-decorated commanders broke from the ranks and rode toward the royal party. They looked to be a few years older than their men but no less fit. One wore a short, black-and-gray beard that covered part of a round, wrinkled visage, while the second, clean-shaven, sported two ragged scars on the right side of his face. As the newcomers' weapons were still sheathed, the Green Dragon allowed them to ride closer.
After questioning glances aimed toward the distant figure of Darkhorse, both men acknowledged Kyl. In rather patrician tones, the clean-shaven one said, "Our Majesty's fondest greetings to you, my lord! I am Baron Vergoth and my companion is General Yan Operion. We are to be your escort to the palace, where King Melicard and Queen Erini await you. Unless you have any objections, we can lead you there immediately."
"Have preparations been made for His Majesty's retainers?" asked the Dragon King.
"Places have been set aside for everyone. We do not think that you will be disappointed."
Green looked at Kyl. The emperor-to-be inclined his head, but otherwise did not respond. The Dragon King, however, seemed to understand what the younger drake was trying to convey, for he turned back to the two soldiers and, with a nod of his own head, replied, "Then, you may lead us now."
"Yes, my lord."
Cabe marveled at the politeness of the soldiers. Not a trace of their enmity toward the drakes showed through. Kyl might have been the king of Gordag-Ai, Queen Erini's father, so well were the men of Talak behaving. Melicard must've talked to them after Erini talked to him!
The baron glanced at the general, who turned his steed around and immediately returned to his place at the head of one of the two columns. Vergoth signaled an officer in the other column. The soldier saluted and barked out a command. With impressive precision, the column turned to face the gateway and began rearranging itself, becoming a spearhead of sorts with the officer in the lead.
When the baron saw that his men were ready, he turned his attention back to the drakes. "If Your Majesty and Your Majesty's people will follow me . . ."
Kyl signaled for Vergoth to proceed. The Talakian soldier saluted him and turned to face the gates. As Vergoth called out the command to move, the Green Dragon raised his fist and motioned for the caravan to follow suit. Urging their animals forward, the drakes and the wizard trailed after their escort, with Darkhorse continuing to stay far to one side of everyone.
Only the column belonging to the baron moved. Cabe studied the second column, especially its commander. The general eyed the moving caravan dispa.s.sionately. He briefly met the gaze of the warlock, but then continued on with his inspection of the visiting delegation. Cabe Bedlam had met both the baron and the general prior to this occasion, but usually on state business and only for brief periods of time. Neither man actually led the royal guard, but for this visit, Erini had no doubt deemed it proper that Kyl be escorted by men of proper rank. Melicard would have chosen these two because of his trust in their ability to turn the situation around should the drakes be determined to cause trouble.
The second column had still not moved even after Cabe and his companions had reached the last man. The caravan, then, was to have an escort riding behind it as well as ahead. Melicard's faith in the drakes was very definitely limited.
They entered Talak.
Each time he visited the mountain kingdom, the blue-robed mage could not help but admire the peculiar architecture. Talak was a city of ziggurats, stepped pyramids often looming high in the sky. The largest, of course, would be the palace, the tip of which he could already make out. The rest of the city was only a little less impressive, however. Every gate seemed to include first a visit to a marketplace. The caravan's path took it through a people-filled, bustling combination of tents, stalls, and permanent buildings. Even the arrival of the drakes' emperor-to-be did not stop most merchants from continuing to try to hawk their wares to the onlookers and even, in a few daring cases, members of the caravan. Cabe laughed and shook his head as one woman tried to convince him to purchase a roll of gaily-colored cloth. She followed along until he was at last able to convince her he had no interest, at which point she allowed him to move on while she attempted to a.s.sault one of the human servants farther back in the column.
Risking a study of the dragon heir, the warlock was interested to note the struggle going on in the handsome visage of the young drake. Kyl was fighting to keep his fascination with the city from becoming visible. His eyes, however, kept darting back and forth to admire one strange sight after another. The drake had made a few short visits to Penacles, which was closer, but had never been to the mountain kingdom. Cabe was aware that Kyl had believed Talak to be a rougher, less attractive abode. The dragon heir had expected a wind-blown, murky kingdom populated by sinister figures bent on the destruction of his kind. It was evidently becoming something of a shock to discover that these folk worshipped life and the enjoyment of it. There had been a period, from the years shortly after Melicard had a.s.sumed the throne to the time of his marriage to Erini, when Talak had come close to being the dark abode Kyl had expected. It was chiefly due to the queen that Melicard had not become the twisted monster his father's insanity and his own mutilation had nearly created.
They pa.s.sed more and more permanent buildings, tiny duplicates of the taller ziggurats. People clad in the bright, loose-fitting clothing that was most common in Talak contrasted sharply with the armored soldiers keeping order. The crowds grew more excited as the drakes entered deeper into the city, but no one tried to create a disturbance. The warlock was pleased about that, although he knew it was all Melicard's doing. The king might be a good man, but he ruled with the proverbial iron fist.
The markets gave way to more permanent businesses, then to stately homes. The nearer they drew to the palace, the more elegant the travelers' surroundings became. This did not mean that the crowds became any thinner. On the contrary. Here were the folk who controlled much of the kingdom's commerce and politics. To them, the coming of the drakes, especially Kyl, was at least if not more relevant than their queen's initial arrival. Cabe recalled Erini describing her journey through Talak and smiled grimly at the notion that the aristocracy and wealthy merchant cla.s.s considered the newcomers of so much more import. Of course, years ago, when the young princess had arrived, most of the powerful had expected her to take one sharp look at the disfigured king and then flee in disgust and horror. Erini had certainly surprised them.
Cabe dismissed the thoughts as the palace of the king and queen of Talak at last loomed before them.
The gates surrounding the palace grounds were open. A contingent of the royal guard, half stationed on each side of the gate, came to attention. Two heralds raised horns to their lips and announced the arrival of the visitors.
Kyl gripped his reins tightly. Cabe would have sought to encourage him, but the Green Dragon was swifter. He leaned close to the heir and pointed at the palace, as if explaining some fact about it. Cabe was not close enough to really hear, but it was clear to him at least that the Dragon King's words had nothing to do with architecture. Kyl at last nodded and relaxed his grip. Lord Green straightened again and pretended as if nothing had been amiss.
The warlock turned his attention briefly to Grath. Kyl's brother was taking in all of the splendor with much less difficulty than his elder sibling. Cabe was impressed. Grath was no more traveled than Kyl. Perhaps it helped to know that most eyes were not on him.
On the uppermost step of the palace entrance, looking calm and unconcerned, were King Melicard and Queen Erini. With them were members of the king's staff, looking not at all as unconcerned as their monarchs. There was no sign of the young princess, Lynnette, but it was not necessary for her to be here.
Melicard I of Talak was a tall and striking man. His hair had begun to turn to gray and there were lines etched into his angular features, but no one doubted his strength. He had a commanding presence; Cabe knew of few men who were not warlocks who were as overwhelming as the king. None of those few, however, could match Melicard's unique appearance.
Both the monarch's left arm and much of his face on that same side were silver.
In the early years of his reign, Melicard had begun his vendetta against the drakes. Two of his specific targets had been both Kyl and Grath. In order to combat sorcery that might be used to defend the hatchlings, Melicard had gone to the Seekers for aid. The avians had given him power of his own, in the form of magical medallions. Melicard had put them to good use at first. Then, during one attack, a medallion in his possession had shattered . . . discharging the stored power.
He had almost died. The injuries could be healed to a point, but the face was permanently scarred and nothing could save the arm. Seeking a semblance of normalcy, Melicard had sought out the rare, magical elfwood, a type of wood that could be trained to mimic whatever it was carved to resemble. A partial mask of the silver substance now covered every scar, even replacing most of the mangled nose. More astonishing, the elfwood arm moved with almost as much fluid grace as the original had.
The elfwood had been the beginning of the king's recovery, but his marriage to Princess Erini of Gordag-Ai had truly saved him.
The queen still looked as young as on the day she had first ridden into Talak to be the betrothed of the dark and mysterious king who ruled there. She was the fairy-tale princess come to life, with perfect features highlighting a pale, oval visage. Sun-drenched tresses almost comparable to the gold of Aurim's own head flowed behind her like a second cape. She was slim and somewhat pet.i.te, which caused more than one unknowing person to a.s.sume that the queen was a delicate, fragile person who relied upon the towering strength of her husband.
Such fools did not last long in the royal court of Talak. Erini complemented Melicard. It was Erini's love more than anything else that had made the king what he was. The queen was also not one to sit quietly and let others make decisions concerning her kingdom. Melicard and his bride ruled on an equal basis, although he would not have denied that she could sway his opinion to her thinking with but a smile.
Her ability to rule both her kingdom and her husband aside, Queen Erini possessed one more ability that made her a force to be reckoned with. Outwardly, the only evidence of that ability lay in the fact that she did not look much more than eighteen despite being more than a decade older than that. Melicard looked to be almost three times her age.
The queen of Talak was a sorceress. She had not wanted to be, but the power would not be denied. It had manifested shortly before her arrival in the mountain kingdom and had, Cabe knew, been instrumental in saving both her and the king from the machinations of Mal Quorin, counselor to Melicard and secret servant to the late, unlamented Silver Dragon. Like all other mages, she wore silver in her hair. At present, however, her crown and some subtle styling served to all but hide the telltale streak.
The king and queen waited in regal silence as Baron Vergoth led the column to a position before the steps of the royal palace. Cabe took the opportunity to once more admire the building and grounds. Melicard's palace, the largest structure in sight, was a sprawling ziggurat surrounded by a beautifully landscaped park. In the high season, flowers of all colors and scents blossomed everywhere. There were small groves of fruit-bearing trees and even a stream whose source was underground.
Despite the splendor of the grounds, the palace was by no means designed simply as a feast for the eyes. The ziggurat was well-defended, with arrow-slits as the only visible evidence. Many of the defenses were magical in nature or simply hidden. Talak itself was also protected by spells, but it was rumored that conquering the entire city would be simple in comparison to attacking the palace. Cabe could sense great power surrounding him, but he knew better than to probe. That was a good method by which to set off any of a countless number of spells. Even the warlock, who knew the king and queen well, was not privy to all of their secrets.
The caravan and its escort came to a halt. Cabe and the others dismounted. At the same time, Melicard and Erini, accompanied by their people, began to descend the steps of the palace.