Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

by Richard A. Knaak

  “What do they want?”

  “I don’t know. . . .”

  Around them, several of the human and drake workers stared at the two powerful figures, most, no doubt, wondering just why it was their lords stood frozen in place. Cabe was thankful that none of them had been close enough to hear his discovery of the avian observers.

  It was too dark to see the arrogant forms hidden among the treetops, but now and then the patient sorcerer heard the quiet rustle of wings. The Seekers seemed satisfied with observing. Cabe could feel no desire to attack.

  “I think . . . they simply want to know a little about the future emperor.”

  “I shall have them shot from the treesss,” snarled the Green Dragon. From his tone, he had still not come to grips with the realization that the Seekers had settled around the camp without his notice.

  “Don’t!” admonished Cabe. “I . . . I think we won’t have any trouble from them if we simply let them be.”

  “Seekers?” The very idea of allowing the caravan and, especially, Kyl to remain surrounded by the bird folk went against the draconian monarch’s notions of safety.

  Cabe could hardly blame him. Still, he had no desire to start a conflict with the ancient race. Although only a vestige of their former might, the Seekers, once rulers of the land, were still a cunning and deadly foe when stirred. For now, it was simple curiosity that drove them.

  Then, as silently as they had come, the Seekers departed.

  Only the warlock and the drake lord noticed their withdrawal. The reptilian knight glanced down at his human companion. “Why did they leave?”

  Why, indeed? “They must have discovered what they wanted to know.”

  “Peaceful intentionsss or not, I am putting the guardsss on alert, friend Cabe! If even one of the bird people returns, I will have it destroyed!”

  With that said, the Dragon King whirled about and stalked away.

  The mage watched him vanish into the night, silently hoping that there would be no further incident. Then, ignoring the still curious glances of the servants nearby, Cabe turned and headed toward his own tent. It would be wise, he concluded, to make a few additions to the spells he and the drake lord had cast. Stronger yet more subtle ones. There would be no repeat of the surprise visit. Next time-though in truth he hoped there would be no next time-he would be alerted to the avians’ presence long before they became a threat.

  Even still, Cabe knew he would sleep lightly this night. Very lightly.

  To the weary mage’s relief, the night passed with no return of the bird folk. Cabe had not slept well, not trusting that his newly cast defensive spells would be sufficient for the cunning avians. The nagging lack of confidence was something he had often fallen victim to in the past, and the warlock was quite aware that Aurim had inherited the tendency to doubt himself from his father. That, more than anything else, was why his son’s spells went awry. Cabe hoped that one day Aurim, at least, would overcome the doubts. It was looking more and more as if he never would.

  The caravan was ready to move on in an astonishingly short time, no doubt thanks in great part to the Green Dragon’s threatening encouragement. He did not see the silent night as any sign the Seekers had meant no harm. To him, it meant that the avians intended something more monstrous later in the journey. The drake lord wanted to make as much progress as possible before that happened.

  Cabe did not argue with him, deciding they were all best served by taking no chances. If circumstances called for him to step between the bird folk and the Dragon King, then so be it. He hoped it would not come to that.

  The weather stayed clear, allowing them to cover much ground. There was little trouble, save an argument between a human rider and one of the drake warriors the Green Dragon had brought with him. It was the opinion of the human that his counterpart’s reptilian steed was eying the horse with too much eagerness. Separating the two succeeded for a time in ending the matter, but when the accused riding drake started fighting for control with his master, his definite intention being to accost one of the other horses, the Dragon King had the drake warrior ride off and feed his mount. He was also warned that if the beast still hungered when the two returned, it would be its own master it was fed.

  That this was the only incident of friction between the human and drake folk was encouraging. Even though the humans for the most part had originally come from settlements located in the lands of the Green Dragon, they had never mingled much with the drake race. Cabe’s tiny kingdom had brought the two races closer together than in any part of the Dragonrealm with the possible exception of Irillian by the Sea. There, however, humans were second to their reptilian counterparts. They were treated well, but the divisions still remained. Such was not the case at the Manor. The warlock hoped that he would one day see the rest of the Dragonrealm follow their example. Even he had been amazed that the two races could work so well together.

  Evening came none too soon for the mage, who wondered whether he had grown a little soft over the past few years. For the most part, he had traveled by means of either his own sorcery or the swiftness of Darkhorse. Cabe could not recall the last time he had gone on an extended journey with only true horse for transportation. He had forgotten how uncomfortable a saddle could be after two days of riding.

  Thinking of Darkhorse, the saddle-worn mage wondered where the eternal was. The shadow steed was not yet late, but Cabe still feared that some other hidden trap had caught Darkhorse unprepared.

  He was carefully dismounting when Grath joined him. “Master Bedlam. Can I be of any assistance?”

  “Thank you, no. I’m fine.”

  Someone came to take the reins of his horse. Cabe gladly gave them up. Beside him, the young drake continued to wait.

  “Might I speak to you for just a moment, Master Bedlam?”

  The Green Dragon and Kyl had already started walking away. Cabe, seeing that he was not needed at the moment, nodded to his companion. “What do you want?”

  Grath looked almost embarrassed. “The closer we come to Talak, the more uneasy I become. I do not mean that I fear danger, not with you, Lord Green, and soon Darkhorse to protect the caravan, but rather . . . rather I am fearful of the coming confrontation with His Majesty, King Melicard.”

  “Kyl’s been well-rehearsed. He’ll do fine.” At least, Cabe added to himself, I hope so.

  “It is not Kyl I am worried about. He has been trained from birth for such things. No, I fear my own lack of experience will tell. If I commit an error, it will reflect upon Kyl . . . upon all drakesss . . .”

  Worried as he had been about the dragon heir’s performance, Cabe had not really considered the pressures on Grath. He had always been of the assumption that Grath was capable of doing what had to be done. When was the last time he and the others had considered the situation from the younger drake’s point of view?

  “Grath,” he finally said, trying to choose his words for best result, “you’ll do fine. I’ve watched you. Gwendolyn and Lord Green have watched you. We probably haven’t told you lately how proud we are of your efforts. You complement Kyl perfectly. He couldn’t have a finer counselor.”

  “If my clutch had been first,” Grath said, referring to his hatching, “I would have been the heir. Yet, although I am not, I am still to fulfill a role of great importance. That is why I have always strived to know all that there is to know. If I give wrong advice to Kyl, it could cause catastrophe.” The drake looked down. “To be worthy of giving counsel to the Dragon Emperor, I have striven for knowledge as if I am the heir himself, but . . . but I ssstill . . .”

  Cabe put a hand on Grath’s arm. “You would be as good an emperor as Kyl, Grath! When the meeting between your brother and Melicard commences, you’ll do just fine. Kyl would have no other beside him. He’s said so many times, remember?”

  “Yesss . . .”

  “We’re all weary from the day’s ride, so-”

  A familiar presence touched the warlock’s thoughts. Grath
, noticing his expression, tensed and glanced around.

  “Ho there, Cabe! Hello, young Grath!”

  Standing where nothing but the creeping darkness of the coming night had been before, was the irrepressible shadow steed. Darkhorse dipped his head in further greeting, then trotted silently toward the duo.

  “You made it!” Cabe fairly shouted. Then, collecting himself, he said more quietly, “It’s good to see you safe.”

  “So I noticed! Ha!”

  “Welcome back, Darkhorse,” Grath added.

  “Thank you, one and all.” The huge stallion’s ice-blue eyes glittered. “It was an entertaining excursion to say the least!”

  The warlock’s relief faded. “You found more spell traps?”

  “Two too many, my friend! Someone was trying to ensure most readily that I was snared!” Darkhorse’s voice lowered to a quiet boom. “I did not admit to you the trouble the first trap caused me. It came very close to capturing me as the other captured you, Cabe!”

  Then what would I have done? the sorcerer could not help thinking.

  “Of the other two snares I found, I can only tell you that they were traps of great cunning! Had I encountered one of them first, it might be that both you and I would have struggled in both ignorance and futility while day after day passed without our knowing it!”

  “How did you deal with the spells?”

  The eternal chuckled. “They were designed to trap, not cope with being trapped! Once I understood their nature, I simply swallowed them.”

  “Swallowed?” Cabe tried to picture the sight, but failed utterly.

  “They were quite tasty in their own way!”

  Cabe was still deciding whether or not he should ask Darkhorse to expand on his remark when Kyl appeared, trailed by Lord Green and the two guards. The emperor-to-be was still clad in his riding clothes.

  “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 wasss 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 asss 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. Lassst 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 massive 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 assured, 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 clustered 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, Massster 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 passed 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 identity. 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.