“Good!” The Gryphon paused, then eyed Traske. “Benjin, you’ve never been in the libraries before, have you?”
“No, my lord.”
“You haven’t?” That startled Cabe. “After all these years?”
“I blame Toos for that!” The former monarch of Penacles shook his head. “Toos has never trusted the libraries . . . and who can blame him? You and I were virtually the only ones he would allow to enter until fairly recently, warlock. The old fox rarely even visits them himself!”
Cabe had known the last, but not that Toos had been so restrictive. Surely, Benjin Traske, whose expertise had helped create the school of sorcery, deserved that much trust. Once again, he was reminded of the paranoia of the monarchy.
“Well, I think that it’s time the scholar was given permission to visit them,” the Gryphon commented with a glance toward the regent. “You may certainly join us, Benjin.”
“Thank you, my lord.” The calm veneer momentarily twisted into a look of extreme pleasure. Then, apparently remembering himself, Traske quickly reverted to his more stolid, scholarly expression.
As they rose to leave, Cabe could not resist quietly commenting to the Gryphon, “I thought that you no longer ruled this kingdom.”
“You may consider me king emeritus for the time being.”
“Perhaps you’d better hope that Toos will consider you that.”
The Gryphon chuckled, an incongruous sight, considering his features. “My old comrade-in-arms would be happy to consider me king of anything, just so long as he can relinquish the throne to me!” He pretended to shudder at the thought. “Now, come! We really should give Benjin all the time we can in the libraries!”
They left the drakes and the general to their game. The Gryphon led his companions back into the palace and through its halls. As the visitors had noticed on their initial walk through the gray edifice, the inside of the palace was little better decorated than the outside. A few pieces of art, most recent and all of them reminiscent of war, dotted the halls here and there, but for the most part the palace interior looked as if the architects had left their project undone. Only when they passed the grand ballroom was there a radical change. Cabe glanced inside as they passed by and marveled at the bright, glittering array of crystal and gold decorations. After the rest of the building, the sight of the ballroom was almost jarring.
On and on they walked. Cabe began to wonder why the Gryphon had not chosen to transport them there. Most likely it was because the lionbird preferred physical activity and considered such use of magic frivolous. While this pattern of thought was much akin to the warlock’s own way of thinking, this particular trek was one where he would have happily made an exception.
At last they came before a doorway beside which two huge, iron figures stood, roughly hewn warriors that, like the palace, seemed to have been abandoned before they had been completed. The Gryphon signaled his companions to halt. He continued on for several paces until he stood no more than two yards from the center of the doorway.
“Well? Will you let us pass?” the lionbird asked.
What happened next made Benjin Traske gasp and clutch the hilt of his blade, an action which, in retrospect, Cabe realized might have endangered all of them.
One of the iron figures slowly turned its head toward the waiting Gryphon. The other looked not at the lionbird, but rather at the two behind.
The warlock took hold of the scholar’s arm and whispered, “Make no false moves, Benjin. If they perceive you as a threat, they might attack. You’d be surprised at how fast they can move!”
“Iron golems,” the tutor muttered, still stunned. “I have heard of such, but only in old stories.”
“Did the stories mention what they could do to those they were sent against?”
Traske did not release his blade, but he made no other move, which was perhaps the best that Cabe could hope for.
Oddly, the Gryphon was still waiting for the doors to be opened. The golems continued to stare at the trio, as if uncertain what to do.
“You heard me. The three of us will enter here; is that understood?”
Very slowly, the golem watching the former monarch returned to its original stance. As its head swiveled back, the creature rumbled, “You may enter.”
“Thank you very much.” The Gryphon waved the other two forward.
The doors suddenly swung open of their own accord. Beyond was a chamber that, like the ballroom, was a contrast to the stark simplicity of the regent’s palace. That was because the chamber before them had once been the Gryphon’s very room, his private sanctum in the days when he had ruled Penacles.
With careful steps, the three entered the chamber. Cabe noticed that the other golem continued to observe the Gryphon’s two guests. He could not recall the last time that the iron monsters had taken such interest in him. Then he realized that it must be Traske in whom the metal man was interested, for the scholar had never been permitted entrance before.
Benjin Traske still clutched his knife hilt, but he had almost forgotten the golems. Now he was busy inspecting the room that they had entered, his eyes quickly fixing on one ornament in particular, a skillfully woven tapestry hanging on one of the walls.
“I still use this place on occasion, although for the most part my stays last only the day. Troia would never forgive me if I left her and Darot alone overnight. Since we live not that far from here, I cannot blame her. Mostly, I use this chamber when I’m researching the libraries.”
The doors suddenly swung closed and as they did, they revealed two more of the metal colossi standing guard inside. Cabe had seen these two often enough, but for the first time that he could recall, they were watching the Gryphon’s guests closely.
Leading them to the tapestry, the Gryphon explained its importance to the scholar. “This is the only way-the only way we know of-that one can gain entrance to the libraries.”
“The detail is fantastic!” whispered Traske. “And it appears to be very ancient. I have never seen such a style before.”
“We don’t know how old it is, Benjin, but it may be from the first Dragon King. No one is certain.”
Traske squinted. “But . . . this is present-day Penacles! That cannot be right!”
“The tapestry is quite magical. It always shows the kingdom as it presently is. We could watch a building being torn down, return to this chamber, and find that it’s also vanished from the image.”
“How does it help us journey to the libraries? I do not even see them.”
“You have to know how to look for them, Benjin. Where the libraries are concerned, you won’t see an actual building. Instead, there’s usually a symbol of some sort. It varies now and then. Sometimes it’s a book, other times it might simply be a cross or star. Knowing the tapestry as I do, I merely have to search for something that is out of place.” The Gryphon studied the image. “And I think . . . that’s certainly a strange choice!”
“What is it this time?” Cabe asked.
“See for yourself.” Their host put his finger next to the mark, then shifted to the side so that the others could look at it.
Just under several buildings in what was the eastern edge of the city was the symbol. Cabe had never seen its like in all the times he had watched the Gryphon use the tapestry, and its very pattern disturbed him.
Benjin Traske peered at it. “A very stylized version of a dragon, is it not?”
“It is. That’s not the symbol you find on each tome in the libraries, though. Looks very familiar.”
“It should,” whispered the warlock. “Kyrg and Toma both used it as one of their banners.”
“I’d forgotten that! Of course!”
Cabe frowned, suddenly filled with tension. “I don’t like that coincidence. This could mean that Toma somehow gained access to the libraries.” Traske, who had finally been told of the drake’s other intrusions, frowned at this. “He could be in there now.”
The Gryphon nodded agreement, bu
t added, “I can’t see how he could have gotten into the libraries, but then he did get into the Manor. There may be danger in the libraries. Perhaps you should stay here after all, Benjin.”
The scholar looked disappointed but understanding. “If you think I should.”
“If nothing’s wrong, then we’ll immediately return for you. Now, if you could please step back ten paces?” He waited for Traske to obey. Then, placing his finger directly on the symbol, the Gryphon began to rub it. As he did, Cabe moved next to him.
The golems, the chamber, and Benjin Traske began to fade away. Only the tapestry remained the same. It was as if a great fog were building up, a fog that somehow did not affect the duo or the artifact.
The Gryphon continued to rub. Quickly the chamber and all in it vanished, only to be immediately replaced by the dim image of a corridor and countless shelves. Within seconds, the image became distinct. The last vestiges of blurriness faded away before a full minute had elapsed since the transfer had begun.
Cabe and his companion stared down both directions of the corridor. All the great books were in place and everything was as neat as was possible. Yet, once before a drake, the fatalistic Ice Dragon, had somehow obtained entrance to this magical place. The warlock wondered if that intrusion had at last been repeated.
“That’s odd,” commented the Gryphon.
“Seems quiet to me.”
“Yes. Absolutely quiet. Where is the librarian?”
The hairless little gnome was nowhere to be seen. Always he, or perhaps another exactly like him, appeared to those arriving in the libraries. This time, however, it was as if the vast structure had just been abandoned.
“Maybe he was too far away for once.” Even Cabe doubted his suggestion. The gnome should have been awaiting them.
The Gryphon continued to scan both ends of the corridor. “I think that perhaps we’d-”
Cabe glanced at his companion. The lionbird was staring past him at something far down the passage. The warlock turned and saw that the gnome had at last made an appearance.
The crooked little figure stood no higher than Cabe’s waist. Somehow, despite his size, he had always impressed the mage as a creature not to be trifled with. The notion had always lingered despite the fact that the gnome had never made any hostile gesture toward any of them.
“I am afraid that the libraries must be closed to you for a time, former lord of Penacles.”
“Closed? That’s ridiculous! They’ve never been-”
The sudden silence filled Cabe Bedlam with fear for his companion. He tore his gaze from the gnome and looked at the Gryphon . . . but found no one beside him. Immediately, he turned his attention back to the ominous little figure. “What have you done with him?”
“He is back in the chamber, as you will be, too, Bedlam.” The creature sighed. “Your family will insist on disrupting my existence for all eternity. I have never seen such a consistent streak for falling into trouble as your tree bears.”
“What does that mean?” The gnome had known some of his ancestors? Cabe doubted somehow that the librarian was speaking of Azran or Nathan. He suddenly had the suspicion that this gnome was incredibly old.
“Your line will probably be the death of me yet . . . or rather again. By laws that I myself put into effect, fool that I was, I can tell you nothing more save that the face of your terror is before you often.”
It was a warning as twisted in riddle as any other answer given by the tomes of the libraries. Cabe wanted to demand a better answer, but before he was able to say anything-
– he was back in the Gryphon’s old chambers.
“Cabe!” The lionbird grabbed him by the arms as if to assure himself that the robed warlock was real. “What happened? Where were you?”
“Being told puzzles by the gnome. I do know one thing; not only has he existed for as long as the libraries, but he seems to have met a few of my ancestors over that time.”
“Did he explain what he meant by that nonsense about the libraries being closed?”
“I think he did.” Cabe repeated his short conversation with the crooked little figure. When he was finished, the Gryphon and Benjin Traske both looked as confused as he felt.
“It suggests something about Toma, I would think, but with so much else going on, there could be other meanings. How typical of the libraries.”
“Whatever the meaning, he indicated that there would be no more information or aid. I gathered that he couldn’t.”
“We shall see.” Returning to the tapestry, the Gryphon raised a clawed hand with the intention of rubbing the libraries’ symbol and returning to the hidden edifice. However, midway to the ancient artifact, the lionbird halted his hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“The symbol . . . it’s disappeared!”
The warlock could scarcely believe that. Trailed by Benjin Traske, he joined the Gryphon in his search. The dragon symbol had not only disappeared, but there was no new symbol to replace it. Even if Cabe had somehow missed it, he knew that the sharp eyes of his companion would not have. The Gryphon knew every detail of the tapestry and every nuance of its function.
“I didn’t think that was possible!” muttered the former monarch. “It shouldn’t be! He has to obey! The libraries serve the lord of Penacles or whomever he permits access to it. The libraries know that Toos has given me leave!”
Cabe considered that. “Perhaps that’s why we can’t enter now. Perhaps the libraries are somehow serving Toos or you by doing this.” He suddenly thought about the visions that had appeared in the Manor. Was it, too, trying to warn or protect those who lived within? “Is that a possibility?”
“A very peculiar possibility, but, yes, one that might be worth contemplating.” Still bristling, the Gryphon glanced at the third member of their party. “I apologize, Benjin. This was hardly expected. Perhaps next time that you are here we will be able to make the journey.”
“I am patient, my lord.” Although his face was bland, the scholar’s eyes again revealed his disappointment.
“Then let us return to the others and see how the game is progressing.” Despite his attempts to be cheerful, the Gryphon was clearly still upset about this development. Never had the libraries defied him so.
By the time they returned to the arena, the game was almost in its climax. Cabe and the others joined Toos, who stepped away for a moment to speak with them.
“It’s Grath’s turn. He’s trying to find a way out of his predicament, but I think it’ll be checkmate in a few moves. He was threatening to beat the young emperor-to-be, but then his luck turned. Made some bad moves. Misjudged his champions’ opponents. There’s no way the king can fight his way out if he’s cornered, which he will be soon enough.” He glanced back to make certain that Grath had not yet moved. “Lord Kyl will hardly need my help now.”
“How well do they play?” asked the Gryphon.
“Early in the game, I would have said that Grath could have given either of us trouble, but now I’d have to say that both of them are good players who still have to learn. Lord Kyl looks to be the better of the two.”
A warrior on the field moved. The general excused himself and returned to the game, but Kyl was already commanding his knight forward. Toos remained next to the dragon heir just long enough to discuss the move, then left the young drake to his own efforts.
“Not the move that I would’ve made, but it’ll bring the battle to an end soon enough. The Gryphon informed me earlier that he might bring you to the libraries. Is that where you were? Did you enjoy them, Scholar Traske? I don’t believe that you’ve ever been to them.”
The Gryphon answered for them. “We were forbidden entrance, Toos. The gnome said that the libraries were closed to us!”
It was evident that the regent did not believe what he was hearing. “That’s preposterous!”
“True, but it happened.”
“Tell me everything.”
They did. Toos listened in disbelie
f, shaking his head when they were finished.
“Madness!” he snarled. “I’m inclined to take this as a sign that we should cancel this entire affair, but that’s out of the question. Perhaps it’s so many drakes nearby. There’s not been this many dragons in the land since the siege led by Kyrg.”
The others had not considered that fact . . . or, at least, the warlock had not. He eyed the Gryphon who was nodding thoughtfully. “That, too, is a possibility, but I think that there’s no doubt that Toma is somehow involved. Cabe’s conversation with the librarian was a murky one at best, but I feel that that’s what it concerned.”
“Well, I think that I’ll try to see if they’ll let me enter, though I doubt it. In the meantime, you can rest assured that measures will be taken in this matter.”
“We know that we can trust you to do that. Toma may try to get near to our young emperor-to-be, so perhaps you might want your people to keep a special watch on him.”
“Oh, believe me; they are.”
An exclamation of triumph informed them that the game was at an end. As expected, Kyl had emerged the victor. Grath waved his congratulations from where he sat. Behind the younger brother, the Dragon King put a consoling hand on Grath’s shoulder.
“We should inform Lord Green,” Cabe suggested.
Toos studied the drake lord. “Yes, I’d thought of that. I’ll do so this evening, when we discuss the final details of this visit. You all know that there’s the required reception so the aristocrats and merchants and such can feel impressive. I’d also planned a ride out to where two of our best units are having their field exercises, but it might be best to postpone that. I’ll have to see what the lord of Dagora thinks about it.”
Kyl chose to join them then, which ended the conversation. The young drake was elated with his victory. “Did you all sssee? What a fassscinating game! I shall have to devissse sssomething akin to it once I asssume the throne! What a marvelousss passstime!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much,” returned Toos, pretending that nothing was amiss. “There will be opportunity to play again, of course, but I’m sorry to say that for now matters of state must take my time. If you will excuse me, I think the Lord Gryphon will be happy to show you the armory. Penacles might be called the City of Knowledge, but we have amassed quite an interesting array of armaments, too.”
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Page 57
