Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

VIII

Throughout the day and into the evening, various folk in the kingdom of Talak were greeted with an unsettling sight. Before them they would suddenly find the dread legend known as Darkhorse. The demon steed appeared in the alleys of the dankest parts of the city, the open fields of the surrounding countryside, and even among the silent ancestors of the king laid to rest in the royal necropolis. Those who stayed around long enough to observe the shadowy form might have noticed how the glittering, blue eyes of Darkhorse took in everything, as if the legendary creature was seeking something. Yet, whatever it was, Darkhorse did not appear to find it. Through the day and into the evening the shadow steed searched, reluctantly foregoing his quest only when light finally gave in to darkness.

There was, after all, a reception he had been requested to attend.

If things are going so well, then why does it seem as if everyone in the room is about to burst from tension?

Cabe sipped his drink and watched the proceedings. Kyl, flanked by Erini and Melicard, was being introduced to various members of the kingdom’s aristocracy and civilian leadership. The king knew the importance of maintaining a balance between the two groups. In Talak, the divisions between the aristocracy and the upper-class merchants were less strict than they were in some kingdoms. Living under the continual shadow of the Dragon Emperors had a way of drawing people together. That, however, did not mean that the two groups did not constantly attempt to gain some advantage over one another.

Kyl was not a lone drake among humans, however. Next to the monarchs were both Grath and the Green Dragon. Grath followed every introduction with avid interest, while the Dragon King kept a wary eye on everyone. Farther back, an honor guard consisting of a dozen drake warriors, Faras and Ssgayn first and foremost among them, stood at attention, willing to take on the entire palace if need be. While outnumbered by the Talakian guardsmen, Cabe had no doubt that the drakes, if given the opportunity, would be able to wreak great carnage in defense of their lords.

As a sorcerer of renown, Cabe had not needed to dress for this occasion, but Gwendolyn had insisted on it. Therefore, the mage now wore a dark, dignified outfit akin to those once worn in the courts of Mito Pica. Cabe considered himself a survivor of that kingdom, his foster father having raised him in the wooded lands surrounding the city. The outfit consisted of dark blue pants and coat and a high-collared shirt of gray. Black, shin-length boots completed the conservative suit. In truth, the suit would have been considered conservative even in Mito Pica, for the sorcerer had decided to forego the more decorative aspects of his former kingdom’s tastes. Even doing that, however, did not make the suit anything a proper mage should wear.

The Lady Bedlam, however, was by no means so reserved. She was clad in a dazzling gown of emerald and pink that had many of the elite of Talak looking a bit on the shabby side. Cabe could not think of another woman in the ballroom who was more beautiful, more resplendent, than his wife, an opinion he suspected was shared by many of the male merchants and aristocrats, for some of them seemed almost as attentive to her as they were to either their monarchs or the drake heir.

Yes, everything seemed to be progressing smoothly, but now and then Cabe would catch a frown or a surreptitious glare among those gathered. Just enough to keep him tense.

The last of the introductions were made. After a short conversation with the king and queen, Kyl turned to Lord Green and said something. The Dragon King shook his head, but Kyl was adamant. At last, the Green Dragon nodded.

Kyl signaled to Grath, and the two began to walk unprotected among the Talakians.

“I don’t know whether he’s amazingly brave or simply majestically foolhardy,” said Gwendolyn as she rejoined Cabe. “We had best keep a careful eye on him.”

“He does wield power of his own.”

“Yes, but this is Talak.”

His wife had a point. If ever there was a place where the people would be prepared against dragon tricks, it was the mountain kingdom. “What’s he hoping to accomplish by doing this?”

She took a sip from her goblet. “That only Kyl and maybe Grath know. Kyl says that he wants the people to really know him, to understand that he should not be feared the way his father was.”

“The Talakians don’t fear him as much as they hate him.” It was a sweeping statement, even Cabe would have been willing to admit that, but it held more than a grain of truth. The most evident hate was that of the older soldiers and aristocrats, the ones who could still recall the days before the last Dragon Emperor’s death. Baron Vergoth could be numbered among those, although he was much more expert at hiding that hatred than many of his contemporaries. The warlock did not care for the way the baron’s eyes followed the dragon heir. Had looks truly been able to kill, Kyl would have been dead now, a blade in his throat. Vergoth, fortunately, was too loyal to his king.

“Where is Darkhorse?” the Lady Bedlam asked suddenly.

“I don’t know.” Cabe could sense his presence somewhere in Talak, but could not fix on one location. Still, it seemed as if the eternal was suddenly making his way to-

There were shrieks from just beyond the king and queen. Both human and draconian sentries readied their weapons, prepared for the worst. Kyl, speaking softly to an elegant if somewhat plain-faced countess, turned slowly toward the direction of the cries.

The shadow steed had finally made an appearance.

That there was not more panic was due to the earlier presence of mind of the queen. Erini had very carefully warned her subjects of the coming of the legendary creature. Most of those gathered here had long been aware of her peculiar friendship with the creature from the Void, and while many of them were aghast at such a relationship, it was well-known that Darkhorse had saved the lives of both the king and queen.

Still, one could not blame anyone for becoming startled at the abrupt materialization of a huge, ebony stallion. Two women fainted and several more guests, both male and female, looked ready to join them. Darkhorse, as usual, ignored the effect his arrival had had. He trotted across the marble floor, his hooves making no sound and leaving no marks. When he finally stood before Melicard and Erini, the eternal dipped his head in both greeting and respect.

“My greetings to Your Majesties,” he rumbled.

His respectful attitude toward their monarchs helped settle in part the nerves of the other guests. A few even eyed the eternal with satisfaction. The warlock sipped his drink again, thinking they see Darkhorse as an ally of Talak, a weapon to use against the drakes. He glanced at Kyl, who also seemed quite pleased that Darkhorse had come to the reception. The emperor-to-be was quietly studying the reactions of the Talakians. Grath whispered something in his ear that made Kyl smile and nod his head. Is this what you wanted, then, Kyl? To make Talak feel that it has nothing to fear from the new Dragon Emperor because they’ve got allies such as Darkhorse to aid them if need be?

If that was the case, then Kyl was even more devious than Cabe had imagined.

Things slowly returned to something resembling normal. It was almost humorous to watch some of the guests constantly look from the dragon heir to the eternal and then back again. This was likely the most unusual reception any of the Talakians had ever attended. It would make for tales to tell. As the warlock continued to observe, he saw that with Darkhorse’s presence now an accepted thing, people were beginning to approach Kyl. The handsome drake was less of a shock compared to the eternal. Now he was simply exotic. True, his teeth were a bit sharp and he spoke with the characteristic sibilance of his kind, but the rest of his appearance made him worthy of any royal court.

He had already charmed most of the women he had talked to, but this time Kyl was careful not to aggravate the men who were with them. For the most part, the young drake was in his element and whenever it seemed he might falter, Grath was there to whisper in his ear or even add a rare word of his own to the conversation.

Yet, Cabe still did not feel confident about the night. Perhaps it was simply because this was Talak, hated enemy of the drakes. . . .

You share my fears, then? came a voice in his head.

He knew that it was Darkhorse, but it still gave him a start. Gwendolyn looked at him, but Cabe only smiled and made a comment about the wine. If Darkhorse desired to talk to him alone, then he would respect the shadow steed’s wishes . . . to a point. There was little the sorcerer hid from his wife.

You may tell her what you wish when I am through. I certainly have nothing to hide from the Lady of the Amber, remarked the great stallion. Darkhorse was one of the few who still called Gwendolyn by that title, but he was careful not to use it in her presence. For roughly two centuries, she had been kept sealed in a prison of amber, the legacy of Cabe’s mad father, Azran. The Lady of the Amber was almost as great a legend as Darkhorse himself, but few knew that Gwendolyn Bedlam was the same woman.

What do you want?

Several yards away, Darkhorse continued to speak with Erini. It was astounding the way he could hold two conversations at the same time without ever becoming confused. I have found something of interest . . . or perhaps I should say that I found nothing and find that of interest!

Cabe held back a sigh, hoping against hope that this was not to be one of the eternal’s murky explanations. There were times when the shadow steed could leave him more befuddled than informed. What exactly are you talking about?

There is no trace, no sign, of the sort of sorcery such as what was used to bait the traps that almost snared me and did capture you!

That did not surprise Cabe, and thus should not have surprised Darkhorse. I haven’t noticed anything and I doubt that there is anything to notice. Melicard knows better, Darkhorse! He wants peace, too. The days of genocide are over. Cabe hoped they were. You should have told me that you were looking for some sign of guilt. I could have told you that Melicard is innocent. Erini could have told you that!

To the naked eye, there was still no hint that the eternal was doing anything other than conversing with the queen. Yet, in the sorcerer’s mind, the shadow steed practically roared with impatience. But that is what I mean! Of course you cannot sense any trace, but neither can I! Me! I should be able to find some trace; no one knows the Vraad . . . or especially Shade . . . as well as I, yet I find absolutely no evidence here!

It was to be one of the stallion’s murky explanations. And that means?

Someone else is responsible.

As worldly as the eternal was, he somehow still retained a childlike attitude in many things. Cabe hmmphed, but fortunately Gwen did not notice. There are others who despise or fear the drakes. Zuu, for example.

No, it was not Zuu. I have been there.

Cabe still had no idea as to how Darkhorse could be so certain about his findings, but he knew better than to argue that point. Well, there can’t be too many remnants of Shade’s legacy, can there?

I do not know. With that, the eternal broke the link.

So that’s what he’s been doing, the warlock mused. Using his invitation to make a thorough check of this place. Cabe was glad that Darkhorse had found nothing in Talak. It would have crippled the possibilities for peace if Melicard was discovered returning to his old ways. Not only that, but it would probably have also meant the end of his marriage to Erini. That bothered him almost as much as the threat of a return to war.

Cabe despised the intrigues of government. Sorcery was so much simpler, so much more straightforward, in comparison.

“What do you suppose is happening there?”

Gwen’s question concerned a young noble who was speaking with Grath. They appeared to be having a somewhat heated discussion, at least where the human was concerned. While what Grath was saying was not audible, the drake’s demeanor indicated reason and calm. Yet, each word seemed to incense the noble.

Stepping between his brother and the human, Kyl muttered something to the Talakian.

The noble replied.

Kyl, hissing loudly, started to swing a fist at the man.

“Trouble!” Gwendolyn breathed.

Before either of them could move, Grath took hold of his brother’s arm and prevented the blow from landing. Unfortunately, the noble took the aborted assault as excuse to draw a ceremonial knife from his belt. Even from where he stood, Cabe could see that the blade was as well-honed as any normal knife.

“Jermaine!” Melicard called. “Stop!”

Both the king’s men and Kyl’s honor guard began moving toward the struggle. Neither Bedlam could get a good enough view of those at the center to dare a spell. It was possible that the wrong reaction would leave either the dragon heir or the noble open to attack. The death of either would shatter the peace, no matter what the original reason for the argument.

Jermaine, the noble, slashed at Kyl. Grath’s hand blocked the attack, but not without incurring a jagged cut. One of the courtiers behind Jermaine grabbed the noble’s other arm. Jermaine struggled free, then took a step toward his adversary.

The entire situation threatened to get out of hand . . . if that were any more possible. The two honor guards had already taken up positions around the combatants, old hatreds causing both of them to choose their own kind. A full-scale battle was brewing.

“I’m going to try to pick Kyl out of there!” Gwendolyn hissed. “I don’t understand why the fool hasn’t done so himself!” Although the warnings against using drake magic were supposed to apply to the emperor-to-be as well as his retinue, it was doubtful that Melicard would have held Kyl responsible for using his sorcery in self-defense. Still, perhaps the drake felt it was safer to fight by hand rather than risk the defenses of Talak.

Then, just as it seemed that everyone was converging on the battle, a blast of thunder shook the entire room. It was so intense that everyone froze, many perhaps thinking that an earthquake or siege had commenced.

“Children, children! Behave yourselves now!”

It was Darkhorse. His stentorian voice echoed throughout the room.

“Milady,” he continued, now looking at the queen, “I regret to say that I may have cracked your floor down to the foundation! For that, I do apologize.”

Queen Erini was barely able to hide a smile. She nodded to the shadow steed. “You are forgiven, I think.”

“My gratitude for that.” The ice-blue, pupilless orbs focused on the king. “Your Majesty, the situation is now in your hands.”

Melicard reacted immediately. His expression unreadable, the lord of the mountain kingdom marched toward the struggle. Two courtiers held the noble named Jermaine by the arms. Kyl and the others watched in silence as the tall king stopped before them and stared.

“My Lord Kyl, I hope you will forgive this distasteful display. It should never have happened.”

The dragon heir exhaled. The fire in his eyes faded. He eyed the noble, then his brother. Something passed between the two drakes. To the king, Kyl replied, “It isss underssstandable, Your Majesssty! Mossst regrettably underssstandable.”

“I will have someone see to your brother’s hand.”

“Let me.” The queen stepped forward. There was a murmuring among the guests.

“The wound is slight,” argued Grath. “There is no need.”

“Nonsense!” Erini took the drake’s hand. She inspected the wound, then cast a disappointed glance toward Jermaine. The noble had the good sense to look at least a bit ashamed.

It would have been simple for any spellcaster of reasonable strength to heal the flesh wound. Grath himself could have done so, given a little time, but Cabe understood what the queen was doing. Talak was responsible for the wound and so Talak, in the form of Queen Erini, would heal it.

Meanwhile, Melicard had turned on the young noble. “Have you anything to say, Jermaine? What was this all about?”

Jermaine’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. One of the courtiers holding him cleared his own throat and quietly said, “If I may, Your Majesty; I think it was a misunderstanding.”

Pulling his attention away from the queen’s ministrations, which had already caused the wound to seal, Grath announced, “Yes, that was all.” Curious eyes turned his way. “A very great misssunderstanding. We were discussing the future relationship of our two kingdoms-”

The king raised a hand, silencing the drake. “That will be sufficient. I know this lad and I know how he thinks.” The disfigured monarch paused. “I know very well how he thinks. Baron Vergoth!”

The baron stepped out of the assembled throng. “Yes, my liege?”

“Will you see to our unruly guest here?” The king indicated the petulant Jermaine.

“One moment, Your Majesssty,” interrupted Kyl. “What do you plan to do with him?”

The two lords confronted one another. In level tones, the king asked, “Did you have some particular punishment in mind, Lord Kyl?”

“I had no punishment in mind. I underssstand hisss way of thinking. There isss much reason behind it, consssidering the passsts of our two racesss. I would rather hope that you will take that in mind and treat him accordingly. Better to work to break down old hatredsss rather than reinforce them. The latter will only ssslow the peace we both desssire.”

Melicard stared at the drake as if seeing a different person there. He visibly mulled over what Kyl had said. “I cannot very well reward him for shaming Talak, but I understand your point. Very well.” Melicard turned to Jermaine. “You know what I could have done to you for endangering the kingdom?”

“Yes, my liege. I . . . apologize for everything. I would make some restitution.”

“You will. I’ll see to that. I will have you work to help make this peace real, lad. We cannot let it be said that Talak was incapable of changing when the chance was offered to it. We’re not merely speaking of peace with the drakes, you fool, but also with the other human kingdoms. Who would trust us if you had more seriously injured-possibly even killed-one of those to whom I have granted protection under a banner of truce?”

“I had no intention of killing him, Your-”

“Which excuses nothing.” Melicard folded his arms. “Baron Vergoth and some guards will escort you from this palace. Tomorrow afternoon, you will return here, at which time I will tell you how you will make amends for this. Is that clear?”

Jermaine went down on one knee, his eyes downcast. “Yes, my liege.”

The king turned to Vergoth. “If you please, Baron?”

“Aye, Your Majesty.”

The impetuous noble was led silently off. The other guests whispered among themselves. Cabe read a variety of emotions among them. There were many who felt that the king had been more than generous, considering the importance of the affair, but there were also several who revealed sympathy for Jermaine. The warlock made a mental note of the names and faces of the most conspicuous of the latter just in case.

Once more, King Melicard turned to his special guest. “I apologize again, Lord Kyl, for this disastrous incident. Despite what anyone might imagine, such behavior will not be tolerated. The next one who shows such colors will not benefit from your good will.”

“I underssstand and appreciate your wordsss, Your Majesty.”

“He is healed, Melicard,” Erini informed her husband just then. She held Grath’s unblemished hand toward the king so that he could see for himself.

“Very good!” The king raised his arms to the assembled folk. “My friends! This incident is at an end! Please return to what you were doing! There is still food and drink!” Melicard nodded toward the emperor-to-be. “There is still a peace to plan.”

Slowly, the guests spread out again. Kyl and Grath joined the king and queen, who were on their way to thank Darkhorse for his timely assistance. Gwendolyn looked at Cabe. He nodded his understanding. The crimson-tressed enchantress followed after the monarchs. Conversations sprouted up elsewhere. People began to relax, albeit not too much. The drake and Talakian sentries returned to their assigned positions, but not without last glances toward one another.

For all practical purposes, the reception returned to normal, though every conversation now tended to revolve around what had happened. Drinking also slowed as many became fearful that a drop too much would cause them to say the wrong word to the young drake lord.

“That was very fortunate, friend Cabe.”

The warlock looked up into the half-concealed face of the Green Dragon. He had completely forgotten about the Dragon King. Now he wondered where the drake had been during the altercation. The emerald warrior had taken no part in the event, not even when the life of his lord had been in jeopardy.

“It could not have happened better than if we had planned it,” the drake went on. “The moment Melicard stepped forward to put an end to it, I realized that it would be better if I remained behind. Let the king of Talak take responsibility. The significance of that would not be lost on the other guests . . . and how true that turns out to be! Yesss, things have moved to cement the ties between our two races!”

“I’m just glad that no one was hurt.”

“Of course!” The Green Dragon looked slightly offended. “I would not have wanted that, either, but I had confidence in the outcome of the sssituation.”

Cabe was glad that one of them had been so confident. There were times when, despite the years he had known him, the warlock found the Dragon King an enigma. The mistake, he suspected, was trying to see the drake’s desires in terms of human ideals. There were similarities, but also significant differences. Very significant differences, at times.

The sorcerer took a sip from his goblet and let his eyes wander toward where Talak’s rulers and the future Dragon Emperor were speaking with one another. Kyl had been raised among humans, but while he more resembled one of Cabe’s kind than something akin to the Dragon King, he was still a drake . . . wasn’t he?

Was he neither? Kyl and the others had been very young hatchlings when the mad Dragon Emperor had fallen, young enough to still be influenced and molded to other ways. Knowing that the only way for them to survive-and for his own race to continue as a power equal to the rising humans-the Green Dragon had taken it upon himself to create this unusual situation.

It had not been an easy task. There had been many humans and even some drakes who had threatened the young heirs over the years. The avian Seekers had actually even kidnapped them once in an attempt to use them as leverage against the Ice Dragon. Yet, despite all the dangers, despite those who still sought to end the possibility of a new Dragon Emperor, Kyl had grown to adulthood. However, no one, not even Cabe, was certain as to what the young drake would be like once he assumed the throne. How much of his personality was influenced by his guardians and how much was influenced by his race’s history?

“The ceremony will top this visitation off grandly,” the Dragon King was saying. “It wasss an excellent suggestion, would you not say, friend Cabe?”

Only half aware of the conversation, the ebony-haired mage nodded. “It was.”

“It wasss Grath’s idea, you know. I only dissscovered that this day.”

“Grath’s-” Cabe stirred, but before he could say anything more, the Green Dragon had turned from him.

“Excuse me, Massster Bedlam, but my emperor desiresss my presence.”

“Grath’s idea?” whispered the spellcaster. It made sense the more he thought it through. The ceremony had not seemed like the sort of notion Kyl would have come up with on his own. He was intelligent, there was no denying that, but such a personal display was not generally his way. Grath . . . now that was more reasonable.

He caught sight of the younger drake, ever near Kyl’s side. Now and then, whenever the emperor-to-be looked hesitant, Grath would speak. In fact, Cabe now noted that Grath generally spoke only when necessary. He was like a shadow of his elder sibling.

Two emperors. The drakes would be gaining two emperors, not one. Taking another drink, the sorcerer was glad that at least one of them could be trusted.

The Dragonrealm needed such an emperor if it was to have peace.

Two days later, in the early hours of the day, the drake emperor-to-be journeyed to the necropolis in which were buried the kings and queens of Talak. He was accompanied by Cabe, Gwendolyn, Kyl, the Green Dragon, and, of course, the royal family. Darkhorse was not with them, having said that there were things to which he had to attend. A contingent of the royal guard had escorted the group to the tall, iron gates of the vast cemetery, but Melicard had ordered them to follow no further. The necropolis was a sacred place, a place of final peace. Here the king demanded that his ancestors and those others buried here received the quiet they deserved.

The day was as Erini had said it would be. A light mist lent a sense of tranquility to the morning, putting everyone into a contemplative state of mind. Even Kyl seemed changed. He was subdued, perhaps thinking about his own heritage. In some ways, his background was much like that of Melicard. Both their sires had been driven mad, then had died because of that madness.

Despite his differences with the young drake over the Bedlams’ daughter, the warlock could not help but feel some sorrow for Kyl . . . and Grath, for that matter. He also felt relief that they did not hold him responsible for the Dragon Emperor’s madness. After all, Cabe had only been defending himself.

They were led through the cemetery by the master groundsman, a surprisingly young if pale man with white hair. Cabe had expected an ancient cadaver clad in black, enveloping robes, but the groundsman, while indeed clad in dark, respectful clothing, would have belonged among the courtiers at the reception save for the short, eagle-headed staff he carried.

“He is new,” Queen Erini whispered to the Bedlams, “but his family has held the post for the past two centuries. Roe knows and reveres this place as much as anyone could. His own family rests nearby, as is only just, considering the care they have given this place.”

On the queen’s other side, Princess Lynnette stared at the surrounding mausoleums and tombs with childlike fascination. She had been here many times before. Melicard had insisted that she come to know the history of her family the moment she was old enough to understand. Lynnette had little fear of the necropolis, which had surprised Cabe until the petite princess had told him that she could never be fearful of a place where so many members of her family watched over her.

The tomb of the kings and queens of Talak was actually a series of interconnected mausoleums that had gradually spread across much of the necropolis. Cabe had actually expected a massive ziggurat, but the low, flat structure before him was by no means inferior to the pyramid of the spellcaster’s imagination. Elaborate gargoyles stood watch over the doorways, the latter of which were flanked by thick, marble pillars bearing the royal crest. Talak was unique in that its human rulers had risen more or less from one family line. The people of the mountain kingdom had been very loyal to their monarchs.

The master groundsman led them to the grand entrance of the structure, a more recent addition that enabled one, so the guide said, to find their way to any of the crypts, including the most ancient. As they approached, however, Cabe heard a slight rustling from all around them. He was suddenly alert, his powers already gathering for whatever stalked them.

A band of armed and hooded men appeared from within and around the entrance.

No magic that the warlock could detect had been used to camouflage them; these men were simply adept at concealing themselves. The warlock had never seen an armed force in a cemetery, at least not before now. They were not of the royal guard, for instead of the eggshell breast plates, these men wore chain mail under their cloaks. The sentries, a full dozen, resembled to Cabe avenging wraiths risen from the grave. They eyed the newcomers blankly, somehow radiating a sense of dread power. Cabe was surprised to sense a bit of power among them. So far, that power had not been used, but it was potent enough that he remained wary.

The master groundsman raised his staff. “Stand aside for King Melicard I, the Queen Erini, Princess Lynnette, and their most respected guests!”

The guards did not move despite the command, and it took the warlock little time to realize why. He doubted that drakes had ever sought entrance to the necropolis before, much less the royal crypts.

Roe waved his staff at the reluctant guardsmen. This time they obeyed, albeit casting distrustful glances toward the drakes in the party. The master groundsman waited until they had stepped aside, then turned to his charges.

“My liege, I must apologize for this behavior.”

It was Kyl who replied, “Pleassse, King Melicard! Assure him that I underssstand the hesssitation.”

“Again, that is most gracious of you, Lord Kyl,” Queen Erini said. She looked pointedly at Melicard, who nodded.

“Lead on, Roe,” the king commanded, putting an end to the incident.

The groundsman led them up the steps and to the doors, which opened up as the party reached them. A pair of gray sentries stood at attention behind the doors. Cabe found the situation rather ironic. Melicard had left his soldiers at the gate in respect to the dead, at least so he had indicated, but the monarch had failed to mention that his ancestors had protectors of their own, protectors with sharp weapons and secret magic.

If the party had expected a dank, frightful tomb, they were disappointed. It’s almost as if we were walking through the libraries of Penacles! was the warlock’s first thought. The corridor connecting the various crypts was clean and, if not well lit, at least sufficiently illuminated. Cabe wondered if the rest of the necropolis was so well preserved.

“This way,” announced the keeper, pausing to point to a corridor to the party’s left. They followed him down the new hall, passing empty spaces in the walls that were obviously reserved for the future. Cabe shuddered and saw Gwendolyn do the same. Neither Erini nor her daughter seemed bothered by the reminders of their mortality, perhaps because they had come here so often that the crypts no longer held any anxiety for them.

The corridor was short and ended in a stairway leading into the earth. Roe began to descend, with Melicard close behind. The Green Dragon also had no qualms about the descent, but Kyl and Grath both froze. Then, the emperor-to-be stiffened and literally forced himself down the steps. Grath hesitated only a bit longer. The queen and her daughter followed after them.

Bringing up the rear allowed the two spellcasters to take a moment to ready themselves. The enchantress squeezed Cabe’s hand, took a deep breath, and started down. Grimacing every step, he shadowed her, trying not to think about the sort of hole they were entering.

The remainder of the trip was thankfully short. The names and faces carved into the stone plaques became more recent until at last the party confronted the final resting places of Rennek IV and his wife, Queen Nara, who had died many years previous to her husband.

It should have been darker, for a single candle was all that was burning when they arrived, but the master groundsman’s staff proved to be a surprise-the head glowed brighter the darker the path became. Thus it was that the illumination available to them was almost as great as if they stood out in the open air.

Before Kyl was permitted to begin, the king had a ceremony of his own. One day each week he journeyed to this place, often with his family beside him. A wreath already hung over each of the stylized images of his parents, wreaths fairly fresh, since Melicard had been here four days prior. Nonetheless, the king removed the wreaths by hand, then reached into a sack he had been carrying. From it the monarch of Talak brought forth new wreaths, which he then placed where the previous pair had hung. Melicard then stepped back and knelt before the two plaques.

He spoke, but was so quiet that no one else could hear what it was he was saying. Cabe did notice the queen silently mouthing words, tears running down both cheeks. She, at least, knew what her husband was saying.

After several minutes, the king rose. There was a hint of moisture on both cheeks, which disconcerted the warlock a little since the one eye was only supposed to be a carving. The magic of elfwood, however, was a mystery to even the most learned. There was argument as to the extent of its ability to mimic life. Over the years, Cabe had come to the opinion that elfwood did more than mimic.

Now at last it was Kyl’s turn.

He signaled Grath, who carried a bag similar to the one the king had been holding. The younger drake reached into the bag and pulled out not a wreath, but rather two bundled packages about half the length of his forearms. Grath gently opened each bundle, revealing what at first appeared to be a pair of roses. He held out the roses to his brother, and as the dragon heir reached for them, they caught the light.

The roses glittered. The sight was breathtaking. Only now did those gathered realize that the scarlet flowers were not real, but rather sculpted from some magnificent crystal. In every detail did they match or, as impossible as it seemed, surpass their real counterparts. It was almost possible to believe that sniffing one of the sculpted roses would reveal a tantalizing fragrance.

No one spoke as the drake stepped forward and placed one rose before each of the two plaques.

Straightening, Kyl broke the silence. “May thesssse lasssst as a sssymbol of both regret and hope, King Rennek, Queen Nara. Long after the beauty of a true rossse would have faded, let the not ssso cold beauty of thessse pieces show my pain at what my kind hasss done to thisss kingdom. Let it alssso symbolize my promissse to the lords, both passst and presssent, of thisss mountain kingdom that the days of terror are now forever passst. I cannot remake all of what wasss lossst thanks to my sssire and hisss predecesssorsss, but I shall do what I can; that I ssswear in memory of all of you!”

There was more after that, much of it concerning regret to Rennek in particular for the atrocities of Kyrg and Toma, who in the name of their sire and emperor, had been willing to do most anything, no matter how vile. Kyrg had paid the penalty at the siege of Penacles and no one had seen Toma in years, but the memories of the terror the duo had spread remained vivid to those who had been involved, including Cabe. Kyl’s words faded as the warlock pondered the evils of the drake dukes and their master. He knew that he would not rest easy until he was certain that Toma had followed his brother and his emperor to oblivion.

The young drake finished. It was an elegant and worthy speech, no matter what the true reasons behind it. The king was too intelligent a man to fall prey to pandering, but it was impossible for him not to be affected by something such as this. Erini had tears in her eyes.

Kyl turned to Melicard. “I hope I have acted with sssensitivity toward your esssteemed progenitorsss, my lord. If you find the rosesss not to your liking, I will replace them with sssomething elssse.”

“The fire roses were . . . appropriate,” replied the king. His voice shook a little. “I’ve not seen such beautiful work in years.”

“The skill isss almossst lossst. A ssservitor in the Manor knew how to make them, but had not done ssso since coming there. When I was made aware of sssuch skill, I had him make thessse two with the original intention of them being given as farewell giftsss to your lovely queen, but that changed when I dissscovered I had no proper token to bring to thisss ceremony. I hope you will forgive me, Queen Erini.”

“Of course I will. They shall have a place of honor down here, Lord Kyl,” the queen said, her eyes still a bit moist. “I will see to it.”

“I thank you. Perhapsss when I return to the Manor, I will be able to convince Osseussss to make another pair for you.”

“Osseuss?” Erini glanced at Cabe and Gwendolyn. “A good thing then that we were able to prevent a terrible injustice. It would be a tragedy for the world to lose such an artisan!”

Cabe, who had never been aware of the servitor’s talent and wondered how Kyl had come to know, had to agree. The roses had been the crowning touch to the drake’s performance, a perfect complement to the carefully crafted, yet emotion-turning speech he had given. Even Grath and the Dragon King had been touched by it. Roe was staring at the dragon heir as if seeing him for the first time.

There was nothing more to be done here, but it was several seconds before Melicard appeared able to organize his thoughts. His gaze darting back to the roses, he commanded, “Have someone watch these closely, Roe. I want nothing to happen to them. I also want you to personally devise the best way to keep them safe here. They must never leave.”

“Yes, my liege.”

Again there was silence. At last, Erini seized control of the situation from her husband. “I think it’s time we return to the palace. I have arranged for a midday meal in the gardens. I hope that will meet with your satisfaction, Lord Kyl?”

The drake bowed. “Mossst assuredly, Your Majesty.”

“Good! Master Roe, if you would be so kind as to lead us back to the gate?”

“As you wish, my queen. Please follow me, everyone.”

The master groundsman started down the corridor, Melicard and the others following. Gwen took Cabe’s arm, both of them more than happy to be departing this place. They waited while Kyl, Grath, and the Green Dragon followed the royal family, then fell in place behind the drakes.

As the party wound its way toward the steps, the Dragon King suddenly looked back at the warlock. He said nothing and but a moment later returned his attention to the trek. With the only true light emanating from the staff that young Roe carried, it was a struggle to see the expression on the half-hidden face within the dragonhelm, but Cabe was almost certain that he had read in the eyes of the drake lord a deep sense of satisfaction at the outcome of this ceremony. Things, as the Dragon King had put it at the reception, could not have happened better than if they had planned it.

Strangely, the warlock could find no comfort in that thought.