Erini realized that Drayfitt had asked her something. “I’m sorry; what was it you asked, Master Drayfitt?”
The elderly man sighed. Somehow, he seemed even more drawn than when he had first discovered Erini. “I asked your majesty if she trusts her personal guard and her ladies-in-waiting.”
“Completely. Why?”
Drayfitt’s face revealed nothing. “No reason, milady. Only pleased to hear that there are those who can be trusted.”
Neither spoke again, more to save breath than because of any other reason. The journey downward had seemed so much easier. At last, though, the door finally came into view.
I cannot leave him! the princess suddenly thought in a swelling panic, the sight of the door resurrecting her shame concerning her ill treatment of Darkhorse. I have to do something for him even if—even if—
“I’ve been wondering,” Drayfitt began, “wondering why Quorin removed the guards from in here. They weren’t necessary, but he seemed to think them so important before. If they’d been here, you wouldn’t have gotten this far.”
Erini neither knew nor cared what reason the counselor might have had to send the sentries away. Only one thing concerned her. The princess was not even certain it would work, but, based on what little she had learned from the sorcerer, it should at least be possible.
On the next step, she fell forward.
“Princess!” Drayfitt reached for her, almost losing his own balance in the process. He was unable to stop Erini, who turned so that her back was facing her would-be rescuer.
While her face and hands were not visible to Drayfitt and his mind was concerned solely with her safety, Erini unleashed a crude spell formulated only from half-formed thoughts and wishful thinking. The elderly spellcaster had explained that hand gestures were not necessary and mostly acted as a guide, but the princess did not trust her skills well enough to do without them. Her fingers wiggled in a maneuver that was pure instinct. Unfamiliar with the world of sorcery, she could not say whether she had accomplished her task or not. Whatever the case, Drayfitt was now standing over her and Erini knew that trying any longer would only give her away. As it was, she remained uncertain as to whether he knew or not. He had shown her how to shield her thoughts during their one session, but theory and practice were never the same, that held true in sorcery and governing.
“Are you all right, Princess Erini?”
She nodded slowly, trying to act dazed. “Yes—I missed my footing. Thank you.”
The sorcerer helped her to her feet. “A fall here could prove fatal, milady. You would not stop for thirty or forty feet at least. Come, the sooner we leave here the better, as far as all is concerned.”
Drayfitt opened the door, guiding Erini up to the surface with his other hand. The sun was going down and the garden was full of deep shadows, though none as deep as that which was Darkhorse, the princess thought.
Closing the door quietly, Drayfitt quietly said, “We will forget this happened, your majesty. Best for both of us, I’d say. Now go before someone asks why we were here.”
“This is ridiculous! I am a princess! Am I not to be queen of Talak? Should I go skulking about? I won’t be like you, Drayfitt! Not even for the love of Melicard!”
He frantically waved her quiet. In the distance, Erini heard the sounds of men in armor. “I only recommend it from past experience, your majesty. What you do is up to you, of course.”
“Princess Erini.”
Erini started and Drayfitt cursed under his breath. The princess calmed down, however, when she realized who it was. “Captain Iston!”
The Gordag-Ai officer bowed to her and, after a moment’s hesitation, nodded briefly to the sorcerer. “Princess, you are making it extremely difficult for my men and I to perform our duties. So far, you’ve succeeded in evading every one of them.”
“The princess is skilled at such things,” Drayfitt interjected. To Erini, he said, “Think on what I said, milady, and, by all means, make use of such loyal men as your captain here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, then?” Iston asked, his suspicion roused.
“Only that I hope her majesty will allow you to perform your function. It’s sometimes hard to find a person you can trust so much. Good evening.”
His eyes on the departing sorcerer, Iston frowned. “That sounds like a warning of sorts.”
“It’s nothing.”
“As you command.” Nevertheless, the captain continued to look thoughtful. “Might I be permitted to escort you back to your chambers, your majesty? I have a handful of anxious bodyguards waiting for the two of us.”
“Why did you not bring them with you?”
Iston smiled enigmatically. “Some things are better handled by one man.”
They walked quietly through the garden, the officer falling in place just behind his mistress. Erini allowed her thoughts to turn back to the events below and the question as to whether her spontaneous actions had freed Darkhorse or not. She also wondered what Melicard would say if it turned out the shadow steed was free. Drayfitt would be unable to say anything; come the morning, he would be gone with the army. Both the king and Quorin might assume that Darkhorse had either escaped on his own or that Shade had taken him away somewhere.
Her secret would remain safe… unless she chose to tell Melicard. He had to learn some time… but when?
As before, her questions went unanswered. She exited the garden, followed by Iston, of course, with the knowledge that sooner or later the truth would come out and that it might benefit her if it was her admission, not Quorin’s, that Melicard heard first.
GUARD LEADER OSTLICH abandoned his hiding place overlooking the garden the moment the would-be queen and her lackey vanished back into the palace. His mind was aglow with the thought of the gold Counselor Quorin would pay him. What the princess from Gordag-Ai had been doing mattered as little to him as why Quorin had ordered the guards away from the area in the first place. He only knew that the counselor would pay for the knowledge that she had been down there and reward him further once the reins of rulership changed hands.
What happened to the princess was none of his concern.
XI
WITH THE GRAND crusade now ready to commence, no one had time to inspect the chamber where the King’s reluctant demon had been locked away. Caught in the midst of final details that would keep them secluded all night, the king and his advisors saw no one except those who came to deliver information specifically on the march. Thus it was the Counselor Quorin remained ignorant of a fact that would have been of great import to both him and the king… for the barrier, the magical cage, and its sole occupant were no longer there. Had he received a message from one of the guard leaders to the Counselor Quorin, the advisor might have excused himself and investigated for himself, venturing down to the shadow steed’s prison, and discovering something of such importance that even the king would have taken interest… because the barrier, the magical cage, and its sole occupant were no longer there.
THE BULK OF Talak’s great army moved in swift and orderly fashion despite its impressive size. By dawn, more than half the column was outside the city gates. Around them, the citizens cheered their husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers. Cohorts four hundred strong marched by, most of them veterans eager to teach the monstrous drakes that humans of this particular city-state would never bow to the Dragon Kings again.
Lost in the cheers and commotion was one pessimistic sorcerer and several irritated commanders, all of whom felt they were moving in the wrong direction; but it was their duty to obey, and obey they would. The city was not undefended. There were garrisons posted all around the countryside, especially the northern and western borders. The city guard would keep order in Talak itself and the palace would be well-protected by the royal guard.
Unbeknownst to these forces, the northern garrisons, in response to orders received that very dawn, were preparing to move westward to meet with their counterparts there. For the next we
ek, they were to face off in a series of war games designed to test their effectiveness in guerrilla fighting, much like the sort of war waged by Melicard in the early days of his crusade. While the commanders silently questioned the need for this, it was not the first time that some functionary in the government had decided to play up his own reputation by cracking down on the common soldier; and besides, the war was to be in the east for now, so no one would miss them for a few days, anyway.
No one argued the validity of the orders themselves; after all, they bore the king’s seal, didn’t they? Nobody but Melicard and his closest advisors used the seal.
The king saluted those riding out to do battle in his name, his visage somehow more regal than frightening this day. He had planned to lead them, as he had done in the past, but some of his advisors had recommended that he remain in the city. It would not do to have the crusade’s driving force accidently struck down in the heat of combat. At the palace, Melicard could coordinate all of his activities. There was also continued talk of the eventual marriage of Melicard and the princess from neighboring Gordag-Ai, an event most everyone was looking forward to with eagerness. Those near enough to see the king were able to get a glimpse of the Princess Erini standing at his side. Counselor Mal Quorin, Melicard’s chief advisor, stood on his other side.
In the shadow of a building near the city gate, a lone figure watched the ongoing procession with growing impatience. The shadows draped his visage, but even if they had not, it would have taken a long, close look to make out his patrician features and his arresting eyes—eyes with great, wide pupils not of any color, but instead glittering like fine crystal and seeming to see much more than the view before them. It was the face of one born to his place in the world, one who knew that all within his grasp was his. Azran Bedlam had worn such a look, but it paled in comparison with this one. This was the face of a Vraad sorcerer.
The true face of Shade.
FOOD. EAT. EAT. The others in the herd kept urging him. They had been doing so all day.
Provider. Walks-on-hind-hooves-and-smells-of-herd. Brings more food. Eat. The herd tried to watch out for one another, but the dark one kept refusing to be part of the herd, though he had said he was.
Not hungry. The dark one allowed the strange creature with the odd, loose skin to guide him. Drink? Walks-on-hind-hooves-and-smells-of-herd leads to water. Smells puzzled. Not thirsty, provider. Provider smells of fear. Why fear of self? Self not harm provider.
Self… not right.
Before him, the provider called to another of his own herd, a smaller walks-on-hind-hooves who often came to this herd and smoothed and washed their coats. The dark one could not recall ever having this done to him, but the others, who seemed very stupid to the dark one, had told him this. It was one of the happy times they had. The dark one did not care for their happy times. Their happy times were for stupid ones.
“Andru! When did they bring in this one?”
The boy—boy?—shook his head, his mane flying back and forth as he did. The dark one realized the boy could not speak.
The man—yes, man!—looked at the dark one. “He’s magnificent, but he spooks me for sure! More like a demon than a horse!”
Horse? Demon? The dark one’s mind stirred. He did not question for a moment that he understood the man so well, even though the rest of the herd seemed to only hear the tone of his voice. He was different. Far different. Memories began to stir, memories of confinement, of evil men and shadowed figures. Memories of a need to escape.
“Here! What’s wrong with you?” The man—for the first time, the dark one saw that the man was tall, well-muscled, and graying—sought to bring his skittish charge under control. The dark one—there was another name!—easily fought him off.
“Andru! Boy! Get the others! We’ve gotta rogue on our hands!”
The young one ran off. The older man tried to get a grip on the bit that someone had dared put on the dark one, but failed.
Not dark one. Dark… horse. Darkhorse!
The shadow steed’s memories returned in a torrent of mixed images and scraps of thought. Darkhorse froze as he tried to assimilate everything, and the handler chose that moment to grab the bit.
“I don’t know which mule-headed lord or lady left you in the royal stables, but you’re goin’ to have to learn who’s master ’round here!” He tugged hard on the bit, trying to force Darkhorse’s head down. The horses around the ebony stallion shied away, already familiar with the strength and tactics of a man who had not yet met an animal he could not break.
Of course, the jet-black steed before him was far more than an animal.
Darkhorse, at last himself again, finally took notice of his would-be master. Soul-snaring blue orbs met the narrow eyes of the human—causing the latter to scream and release his hold. Stumbling backward, the man made a sign against evil.
Darkhorse laughed. Laughed, not only because of the futile gesture, but because he was free!
“Hela and Styx!” The horseman fell to his knees. “Spare me, demon! I couldn’t have known!”
“Not known me? Not known Darkhorse? I am no demon, horseman, though neither am I one of your charges! Tell me quickly now and I will leave you be! What place is this and what day?”
The answers both amused and angered the phantom steed. This was Gordag-Ai, the Princess Erini’s homeland! He could see what she had done. In haste, perhaps because she was still with the sorcerer, she had wanted him to be safe and secure. Her mind, however sharp, had thought of him in terms of a true animal—and why not? Very few people truly understood what he was. Therefore, when she had attempted to free him, her crude spell had sent him to a place her memories recalled as safe—the kingdom where she had been born and raised. Since he was a horse, her rescue attempt had sent him to the royal stables, surely the most secure place for one of his kind! Unfortunately, the side effect of so haphazard a spell had nearly made him just such a creature; and as much as he admired their forms and their loyalty, he had no desire to become one.
What frustrated him were the results of that side effect. Almost a full day had passed while he slowly reverted to himself. The massive army of Talak must already be far beyond the city, heading toward the Hell Plains; and though he had no proof to back up his fears, Darkhorse suspected that something terrible, something that Shade would have a hand in, was going to happen. Not just in Talak, either.
He realized that the human was still kneeling before him and that several others were standing at the entrance to the royal stables looking quite dumbfounded. Darkhorse laughed bitterly and said, “You have nothing to fear from me, little ones! Darkhorse has always been the friend of humanity, though there are those for whom my love has been tried! Fear not, for my time here with you is over!”
Rearing, the shadow steed summoned a portal. It flickered uncertainly for a moment, but the stallion, impatient to move against his adversaries after so long, paid it no mind. After his confinement and the stifling power of Drayfitt’s magical cell, he expected his own abilities to be less than they should be. That was why it was time to include others in his battle with his friend/foe. It was time to seek the help of Cabe Bedlam.
The gate he opened flickered again—then vanished.
Cursing loudly—much to the panic of the few humans who had not run off already—Darkhorse tried to resummon the portal. It blinked into and out of existence almost too fast to be seen, enraging the frustrated eternal even more.
“I am Darkhorse!” he shouted at the disobedient hole. “A gate is less than nothing to me! Materialize!”
He was greeted by a complete lack of reaction. There was not even a flicker this time. His confinement had sapped his abilities far worse than he could have believed possible.
This was a spell with Vraad origins, the shadow steed finally concluded. A treacherous, destructive thing like its creator!
“Very well,” he rumbled. “If, for the nonce, the paths beyond are forbidden to me, than I shall travel th
rough the world of humanity!” Darkhorse looked down at the humans. “Be vigilant, mortals! The clans of Silver are awake and, though I suspect they look toward Talak, it would be safe in assuming that Gordag-Ai is also among their desires!”
When it appeared that his message had sunk in, the huge stallion reared and charged east. At first, the men in the stables grew panicked again, for there was no eastern entrance, only a solid wall. Then, before the unbelieving eyes of people who had thought they had already seen all there was to see, Darkhorse melted into the obstruction, like a ghost.
DARKHORSE HAD NO time for patience with the failings of humanity. If the fiery presence of a huge, jet-black stallion charging over their heads was enough to set them running in a hundred different directions, then that was their misfortune. What the shadow steed fought to stop was far worse than a little fear left in his wake. Shade, a Vraad sorcerer, would not settle for a little fear. As a Vraad, he would expect to control everything. It was not because he was necessarily evil; if anything, the Vraad had been, in Darkhorse’s limited knowledge, amoral. They could not comprehend that something might be out of their reach unless another, stronger representative of their race had already claimed it. Even then, it was a matter of who had the upper hand.
The warlock would be working to divide and eliminate rivals, even potential rivals.
Darkhorse quickened his pace as Gordag-Ai fell behind him. Princess Erini’s homeland had been given a warning about the drake menace near them. What concerned the phantom steed now was the very person he had looked to for aid. Cabe Bedlam and his family were in danger. A Vraad sorcerer would not let a spellcaster of young Bedlam’s potential go unchecked; if he could not enlist their servitude, then he would destroy them the way one would destroy a pest.
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. II Page 15
