Searching the palace itself was far more dangerous, for he knew that it was the abode of mad dragons. The chambers here were massive, large enough to serve even the needs of dragons. The damage caused by the terrible Rain of Fire had been repaired, and the wreckage had been cleared, restoring the palace once more into the proper abode of a king. But there were still many corridors where a dragon could never hope to pass, and Sir George hoped to remain in those passages while he searched for Kardyer's treasury. If Darmouk had indeed been built by the ancestors of dwarves, then he hoped that they had built their vaults in much the same place as in the strongholds of dwarves he knew . . . beneath the palace.
"Sir George Kirbey, as I live and breathe!" a great, rumbling voice suddenly declared from behind him.
Sir George straightened, hardly daring to turn and face the dragon that had come up silently behind him in the darkness. He could only curse himself silently, knowing that he had waited too long to hide himself in the remote passages. Behind him crouched the largest dragon he had ever seen, a red dragon larger by far than Kharendaen or even her brother Marthaen. He knew beyond doubt that this could only be Kardyer himself.
"Come now, Sir George. I know who you are," the dragon continued, slinking forward like a cat to loom over the old knight, staring down at him possessively. "I make a point of learning about such things when I can. The Dragonlord has a one-handed companion who is secretly a mandrake. Now, just how many one-handed mandrakes would come poking about in my domain? There is really no question, is there? The only real question is why you are here, for I must confess surprise."
"I get the impression that you don't get a lot of company here," Sir George said.
"No, indeed. I think you should stay with me for a time, in case the Dragonlord himself happens to drop by," Kardyer said. "I have tried to remain circumspect since the return of the Dragonlord, yet I am a dragon of considerable fame. Perhaps a conflict with the Dragonlord has been inevitable, but at least now I won't be caught unprepared."
Sir George sighed, resigning himself to captivity. At least he could deduce two important bits of information from what he had heard already. Kardyer obviously didn't have the Collar of the Dragons, nor did he seem to have had a part in its theft. If he had, then he would have known what had brought Sir George here to spy. And the old knight apparently wasn't going to meet an untimely end just yet, although he thought it best not to trust himself to the goodwill of a mad dragon any longer than he could help it. He needed to find a way to get out of here as soon as he could manage it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Solveig White-Gold was finally able to be up and about somewhat, although her activities were still limited to coming down to dinner and spending a brief time in the den afterward. Thelvyn was glad to have her company, especially now with both Kharendaen and Sir George gone. She had grown up as the daughter of one of the first families of Thyatis and knew quite a bit about politics and intrigues. Her experience qualified her to give him some good advice about his own situation.
"The wizards have been unusually quiet lately," he told her as they sat in the den after dinner one evening.
Solveig was sitting in Sir George's favorite chair, wearing only a silk robe that left her long legs bare. Since she was still tightly bandaged, the robe was all she wanted to wear in the warmth of early summer.
"By wizards, you mean Byen Kalestraan, of course," she said. "I would guess that he's either up to something, or else he just plans to sit back and remain as unnoticeable as possible until this business is over. He must know that the
dragons have some very hard questions to put to him."
"I would think so, except that he's still quietly but firmly pushing the king toward war," Thelvyn said. "And pushing me as well, if very gently. You would think that war would be the last thing he wants."
"Then he must be up to something," she agreed. "When you take into account his past behavior, that seems even more certain."
Something stirred outside. They both listened carefully. Thelvyn heard a sound that had grown familiar in the past five years, that of the wings of a dragon making long, powerful backstrokes in the final moments before landing in the courtyard. His first assumption was that Kharendaen must have returned, and he hurried to the door, certain that some news of importance had summoned her. He hoped it was good news, perhaps some concession on the part of the dragons rather than new demands. But when he reached the yard, he could see in the darkness that this dragon was too small to be Kharendaen. He recognized the young cleric, Seldaek.
He hesitated, noticing that the dragon appeared fearful and upset. Then he realized that Sir George wasn't with the young dragon cleric. The saddle fastened about the base of his powerful neck stood empty.
"Where is Sir George?" he asked anxiously, glancing over his shoulder to see Solveig following. "The truce is broken. You're not supposed to be here."
"I had to come," Seldaek insisted. "I need your help."
"Let's get you inside Kharendaen's lair, and then we'll talk," Thelvyn insisted, hurrying to open the doors to the old warehouse. He had never seen a dragon so agitated, and he felt concern for the old knight's safety.
Seldaek crouched low to slip through the doorway, although he was so upset he bumped his shoulders against the lintel and nearly brought down the wall. Solveig followed close behind him, taking care to avoid the end of his long tail. Thelvyn hurried to close the doors, then he quickly ushered Seldaek in the direction of Kharendaen's bed.
"Now, what is this all about?" he asked. "Where is Sir
George?"
Seldaek sighed. "I think Kardyer must have captured him. Sir George went inside Darmouk to search Kardyer's treasury for the Collar of the Dragons."
"Who is Kardyer?" Solveig asked impatiently.
"He is the most powerful of all the renegade kings," Seldaek explained. "Sir George talked to the drakes, who had heard that Kardyer has been boasting that he can defeat the Dragonlord. Perhaps he was only saying that to impress a renegade queen he seeks as a mate, but it led Sir George to wonder if Kardyer might have stolen the Collar of the 1 )ragons."
"The most powerful of all the renegade kings," Thelvyn repeated to himself.
"But we will be going to rescue Sir George, won't we?" Solveig asked.
"I'll be going to rescue him," Thelvyn corrected her sternly. "You couldn't rescue a kitten from a tree just now. Seldaek, can you take me there tonight?"
"Darmouk is in eastern Rockhome," the dragon said. "We would not arrive there much before morning."
"Then get some rest while I prepare to leave. I'll bring you some food."
Thelvyn began by raiding the pantry, searching for anything that would make an appropriate dinner for a dragon. Unfortunately, with Kharendaen gone, there simply wasn't all that much meat in the house. Then he hurried to prepare himself for his journey. Solveig followed him, looking concerned and impatient.
"Do you really expect to go after a renegade king all by yourself, with only that half-grown lizard?" Solveig demanded as he stuffed supplies into his pack.
"You forget that I'm the Dragonlord," Thelvyn answered calmly. "I've fought renegades before. Who do you expect ine to take along who wouldn't simply be in the way?"
"Perhaps you're right," she relented, then changed the subject. "Do you think Sir George is still alive?"
"I think so," Thelvyn assured her. "My hope is that things just took longer than he thought, or else he couldn't get out again right away, and Seldaek simply panicked. He might even be sitting there waiting for us when we arrive. And even if he was caught, they would know he was a mandrake on sight."
"They might also know exactly who he is," Solveig reminded him. "They could be expecting you."
"Then I'll have to be especially careful," he said. "I would prefer to find Sir George before the renegades know I'm there."
Thelvyn left a brief message to be relayed to the king the next morning, saying only that the Dragonlord had been called aw
ay on urgent business and that he would return as soon as possible. Solveig watched from the yard as he climbed into Seldaek's saddle, and the young dragon leaped into the night sky. Solveig was obviously impatient to find Sir George, and Thelvyn understood how much she wanted to go. But he knew his decision was for the best. The enchantments of his armor gave him the ability to face an army of renegade dragons, but a companion would only be someone he would have to protect.
Seldaek was game to do his best, as eager as anyone to rush to the rescue of the old knight. But the gold dragon had just made the same long journey, and he had only a short time to rest before he was in the sky once more. They were forced to stop to rest twice during the night, during which time the young dragon would stretch himself out to his full length and sleep like a stone for a quarter of an hour before he would leap up and insist upon continuing the arduous journey.
It was still pitch-dark, well over an hour before dawn, when Seldaek glided silently down into the desolate valley. At Thelvyn's direction, he returned to the place where he was to have waited for Sir George. In spite of their hopes, the old knight wasn't there to greet them. Thelvyn dropped down from the saddle, patting the dragon on his shoulder.
"I have to go in alone," he said. "I doubt I can find Sir George and get out again without being seen, but I hope to find the old fool before I have to fight the renegades."
"I understand," Seldaek answered.
Following much the same path that Sir George had taken many hours before, Thelvyn passed through the ring of lakes and made his way along the base of the ridge. Seldaek had told Thelvyn all he knew about Darmouk, although he was drawing mostly upon the legends of the dragons. The drakes had been able to add little to that. Thelvyn hoped to discover a secret entrance or escape tunnel of the ancient dwarves to enter the city, someplace con-lined, where no dragon could have gone. The problem was, he soon came to realize, he could have searched days, even weeks, for such an entrance without finding it.
He resigned himself to the fact that he would have to find his way into the underground city by the main entrance, following the vague instructions that Seldaek had been able to give him. As Sir George had the day before, he was able to locate the hidden entrance by the presence of die two dragons standing watch on the ledge above it. For a moment, he drew back into the shadows to think. If he were expected, then the dragons on watch were meant only to give an alarm. Renegades were said to have delusions of superiority, even invulnerability, but Kardyer still would never expect two of his minions to be able to defend his lair against the likes of the Dragonlord. They were there only to watch and to sound the warning, meaning that Thelvyn had to deal with them before they saw him, or else he had to slip past unseen.
Caution told him that he mustn't leave enemies at his back. He hated to kill dragons, but he reminded himself that these were renegades, and thus dangerous even to their own kind. His treaty with the Nation of Dragons had made it clear that he was welcome, even expected, to slay any renegades he might find.
Thelvyn moved quickly while his resolve was firm. Tele-porting into his armor, he drew his sword and raised the blade, sighting along its edge. For a brief moment, he considered his target, the dragon on the higher of the two ledges and the one most likely to escape to sound the alarm. The enchantments of the sword responded to his will with a flare of tremendous power. With the sound of lightning streaking through the sky, the weapon discharged, and the flash of the bolt tore through the night. The beam of intense force struck the dragon in the head, between its horns, with such force that it not only crushed the dragon's skull but snapped its neck. The great creature simply collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been dropped, dead even before it had begun to fall.
The second dragon rose, darted its head back and forth sharply as it probed the darkness. Unable to get a clear target at the creature's head, Thelvyn had to train his sword toward the dragon's massive chest, this time discharging a beam of the weapon's searing cutting force. The bolt was blinding in the night air, like a flash of lighting, and the beam scorched a hole directly through the dragon's chest. This time the stricken dragon lived just long enough to rear up in surprise and pain, then fell heavily onto its side and tumbled heavily down the side of the ridge, finally coming to rest in a sprawling heap at one side of the entrance to the passage.
Thelvyn ran to the entrance, aiming his sword toward the dark opening. If there were other guards on hand, he wanted to catch them before they could race back down the passage and spread the alarm. Once inside, the darkness was almost impenetrable, even to his keen eyes. He pulled off his helmet to listen, but there was no sound of anyone fleeing down the long, winding tunnel. So far, at least, his way appeared to be unopposed.
Now he faced new choices. Returning his sword to his belt, he teleported out of his armor. If the warning had not been given yet, he hoped to find Sir George before the renegades knew he was there. He thought he could be more stealthful without the armor, which was heavy and awkward. He hurried along the dark passage as quickly as he dared. Dawn would be coming only too soon, and the dragons below would awake. The tunnel was dimly lit with magic lanterns that glowed ceaselessly for as long as they lasted, although after thirty centuries or more since the Rain of Fire, many had failed.
He paused for a moment to listen, suddenly aware that dragons were moving along the passage behind him—a small army of dragons by the sound of it. His first thought was that some the renegades had been away in the night, hunting or perhaps pillaging in distant lands, and were now returning to their lair. When they discovered that their sentries had been slain, they hurried to the defense of their underground stronghold. Thelvyn considered fighting them, knowing they would be at a disadvantage in the lightness of the passage. But he knew he would be able to slay only the first two or three. The rest would retreat, closing the passage for his own escape.
Thelvyn decided it was time to sacrifice caution and turned and ran deeper into the tunnel. He knew he had descended some distance already, and he thought he might reach the bottom of the passage ahead of the dragons. But soon he realized they were moving too swiftly, coming up quickly behind him in the darkness. At last he retreated into the best cover he could find, a deep, black recess in the rocks where he could wait for the dragons to rush past him in their haste. Thelvyn knew it was difficult for dragons to run downhill; their hind legs were longer than their front, like a cat's, to help them leap into flight. But these dragons were moving along at a fair pace all the same, one almost on the tail of the one ahead of it. He watched them pass, twelve in all, and it was only after the last one had rushed past that he realized, to his amazement, that they were all gold dragons! They couldn't be renegades!
Shouting and waving his arms, Thelvyn leaped out of t he shadows and hurried after the dragons, but they were so intent upon their raid of the renegade lair that they failed to notice him. All he could do now was to run after them, hoping that he wasn't too far behind. Soon he came to a series of small gate chambers, the final defenses of the original occupants against invaders from above. Making his way past these, he finally came into the main cavern of Darmouk, pausing a moment to look around at the ruins of the ancient city as it lay in the eternal twilight, illuminated by the dying light of the ancient magical lamps. The gold dragons had already taken wing in the spaciousness of the huge cavern, hurtling themselves over the terraced streets toward the sprawling palace that rose like an island in the cave's center. The renegades were only now becoming aware of the danger, a few dragons rising to face the invaders before fleeing from the wrath of the larger and more powerful golds.
Once more Thelvyn teleported into his armor, and prepared to join the golds. He hesitated as he saw another gold dragon leap through the gloom of the gate chambers behind him, and he pulled off his helmet to wait. It was Seldaek, who had obviously witnessed the arrival of the golds and hurried to join them.
"I tried earlier to summon Kharendaen magically, but I didn't think she hear
d me," the young dragon explained, anticipating his questions. "Apparently I was mistaken."
"They don't know that I'm here, do they?" Thelvyn asked. "Is Kharendaen among them, or did she send other golds?"
Seldaek could only shake his head helplessly. "I do not know who has come. They did not pass near enough for me to recognize who they were."
"Come on, then. I don't want any of the gold dragons to get hurt, so I'd better get over there."
"Do you wish to ride me into battle?" Seldaek asked.
"I have my own means of flight," Thelvyn said. "You warn the other golds that I'm here. And try to discourage the ores from joining the fight."
Indeed, Thelvyn could hear the ores shouting and cussing and rushing about, but they were either slow to get themselves organized or reluctant to join in a fight between dragons. They wouldn't be a serious threat, at least not for some time. Thelvyn summoned the cape of flight into cautious life, aware of just how little practice he had at using it. He felt himself rise slowly, arching toward the center of the city as he gained speed. The cavern suddenly seemed full of dragons darting and chasing back and forth. The golds were having their way so far, but the renegades had them outnumbered at least two to one. Thelvyn drew his sword, knowing full well that aim would be difficult while he was in flight. He thought it best to show himself to the attacking golds by putting down a few of the renegade dragons,
although the palace remained his ultimate destination
Marthaen landed on the dusty stones of the great plaza of the ancient palace, folding away his wings tightly to protect them from harm in the coming battle. His sister Kharendaen landed nearby a moment later. The main doors of the palace stood open before them. They looked about for a moment, suddenly aware that this wasn't a palace of ancient kings but the forgotten sanctuary of an Immortal. Great bearded images of Kagyar stood on guard on either side of the steps leading up to the doors.
D& D - Mystara 02 Dragonking of Mystara Page 17
