Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

XXII

“Are you feeling better?” asked Gwendolyn.

Cabe lowered his cup and peered at his wife from the bed. She looked concerned, as she had since he had first been carried back to the Manor from Kivan Grath, but she also looked preoccupied with something else.

“Better than yesterday. Better than the two weeks I don’t remember.”

His last, fairly clear memory before waking in his bed but two days ago had been of his wife leaning over him, fear dominating her expression. It had not been a delusion, as he had thought, but rather a brief awakening just after Darkhorse had brought him to the Manor. The shadow steed had returned to the cavern the moment that he had assured the safety of Kyl, Valea, and Ursa.

The eternal had joyfully greeted his human friend yesterday, ecstatic to discover that the warlock had finally recovered. No one knew exactly what had happened to Cabe, only that he had hung between life and death for two weeks, then abruptly recovered almost completely.

Darkhorse had described the surprise with which he had viewed the cavern upon his return. He had expected a battle of epic proportions still raging, only to find the dragon Toma dead on the dais, maw still curved in what seemed a cruel smile, and Cabe sprawled on the steps. At first, the shadow steed had feared that his friend had died alongside the devilish drake, but then he had noted the thin thread of life remaining.

“Praise be that it was not yet time for you to journey down the Final Path!” the stallion had rumbled yesterday. Darkhorse, too, had recovered. He had recovered so much, in fact, that he had made the rare transformation and given himself a pair of long, tentaclelike arms with which to hug the weary mage.

Everyone had come to give Cabe their best and express their pleasure at his survival . . . everyone except one young drake. Even Ursa had come, although when Cabe had pressed her about Kyl, the female drake had quickly excused herself.

No one would even tell him what had happened to the meeting with the Blue Dragon. It had, of course, not taken place due to Kyl’s own injuries. The heir, however, had suffered much less than Cabe and had recovered some days ago.

After Kyl’s heroism in the cavern, Cabe had not wanted to think ill of the emperor-to-be, but again doubts crept into his mind. Kyl had looked willing to join forces with Toma when it had seemed the renegade would win.

Toma. The Manor had been trying to warn them in its own way about the truth concerning Toma and Traske. The warlock knew that now. He wondered if the other images had any such meaning. He also wondered just how sentient the Manor was. More than Cabe had ever imagined? It would bear looking into once things calmed down.

“Do you want anything to eat?” asked Gwendolyn, stirring her husband from his thoughts.

“No, Mistress Belima’s lunch should do fine for the next few days.” The cook had been so gratified by the mage’s recovery that she had made him a bit of just about every specialty she knew. Of course, with Mistress Belima, that was almost everything. Cabe’s lunch could have easily served the army of Penacles. Despite all he had eaten-and his days of sleep had made him ravenous-he had hardly even made a dent in the vast meal. Gwen had used her power on Cabe, but that had only allowed him to survive. He looked forward to digging further into the pile of food later, but now he could only dream of eating.

“Then, do you think you can handle another visitor?”

“Another one? The Gryphon’s been here despite now officially being recrowned monarch of Penacles. Troia couldn’t make it because of the nearing birth and the somewhat abbreviated coronation ceremony. Erini and Lynnette paid a visit yesterday . . . at the same time Darkhorse showed up, of course.” It had not been surprising to find the trio depart at the same time. This way, Erini could visit with all of her friends without Melicard becoming disgruntled at the shadow steed’s presence. Melicard could never seem to make up his mind about Darkhorse. At least the king had sent his own regards. “I think that everyone in the Manor has been here, including Master Ironshoe several times to thank me for, as he put it, ‘putting down that mad riding drake once and for all for poor old Ssarekai.’”

“I’m sorry you missed Ssarekai’s funeral.” Despite the drake having been petrified by Toma, everyone had agreed that it would only be polite to his memory to bury Ssarekai as soon as possible.

“I’ll visit his grave later. He deserves so much more than the end Toma gave him.” Who does that leave? the warlock pondered. Could it be . . . the Green Dragon?

“Shall I tell him to come back?” The enchantress grew more concerned.

Cabe realized that she thought he was growing weary again. “No. Who is it?”

She stepped toward the door, giving him only a cautious look. “I think I’ll just let him introduce himself.”

The sorceress quickly departed through the doorway. Cabe heard her whispering to someone, but could not hear what was being said. Heavy footfalls announced the coming of the visitor.

“I am glad to sssee you better, Massster Bedlam.”

It was Kyl, but Kyl as Cabe had never seen him. The young drake was clad in resplendent dress armor that glittered like the noonday sun. A dragonhelm, a real dragonhelm, lay crooked in his arm.

Cabe straightened. “Congratulations, Your Majesty. I would gather that the meeting with Lord Blue went well and that he’s thrown his support behind you.”

“Only just thisss morning.”

That made the warlock’s eyes widen. “This morning?”

Kyl looked him straight in the eye. “I informed the massster of Irillian when I first woke after the battle that I would not even consssider a meeting until I knew that you were going to recover.” The heir looked embarrassed. “I have been here every day for asss long asss the Lady Bedlam would permit, awaiting your return to usss. Each day, I thanked you for all you’ve done.”

That stirred a vague memory. Kyl, kneeling by him. Kyl’s voice, apologetic and promising to make amends.

“She will vouch for the truth of my words, Massster Bedlam.”

“I don’t doubt you. You have my best wishes, also, Kyl. I’ve evidently been wrong about you.”

“Not entirely.” The emperor-to-be hissed. “Pleassse alssso relay my apologiesss to Valea. She will not ssspeak to me and I can hardly blame her. I did intend to ussse her asss a pawn, and for that I shall never be able to forgive myssself. She deservesss ssso much better.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“That isss all I asssk.”

Cabe was silent for a time, then quietly said, “Kyl, I’m sorry about Grath.”

The heir shrugged and took his helm in both hands. His countenance was neutral, but his eyes bespoke his misery. “I cannot sssay that Grath-or I-were innocents caught up by Toma’s sssubtle teaching, but . . . thank you.”

“What will happen to Faras and Ssgayn?”

The drake placed the helm on his head. Even clad so, he resembled more a legendary human king than the emperor of the drake race. “They chossse in the end to ssserve their emperor, not the beguiling renegade. Their greatest crime isss a narrow view of loyalty. They will be punished, but if they remain repentant, I will find a place for them.”

Cabe had been relieved to discover that the two guardian dragons had not joined the lengthy list of those who had fallen because of Toma’s obsession. They had decided in the end to stand aside and let Darkhorse pass when it became apparent that not all was as it had seemed in the cavern. “Good.”

“I mussst go now. There are preparationsss to be made. Lord Blue isss waiting to essscort me to Irillian, where the final sssteps before the coronation can take place will be made. There isss alssso the matter of cleaning up the throne chamber again. The largessst refussse has been taken away and burned, but damage still remains. Also, a petition from the lord of this new drake confederacy demands my eventual attention.”

So much for the grand designs of Toma. Still, something else Kyl had just said . . . “Lord Blue?”

Kyl walked to the doorway before answering. When he did respond, there was a note of question in his voice. “Lord Green hasss requesssted that his brother in Irillian take over the matter. He expressesss hisss apologiesss, but sssays that he believesss Blue will be better able to handle the event. Perhapsss when you are fully recovered, you could ssspeak with the lord of Dagora and find out what ailsss him.”

“Perhaps.”

Kyl bowed, indicating his intention to depart. “May I expect you to be at my ascension?”

“The Dragon Kings might not care for that.”

“They will endure it if it isss what their emperor desiresss. I promissse you that.”

“Then, we’ll be there.”

The heir unleashed an uncharacteristically childlike smile. “Thank you.”

He departed, leaving Cabe temporarily alone. The warlock stared out the window of his bedchamber, thinking that the coronation would certainly be interesting at the very least.

“I asked Aurim to see Kyl and the Blue Dragon out of the Manor. I thought you’d like some company.”

Cabe looked at the doorway to discover his wife had returned. Gwendolyn came to the bedside and sat down next to him. The two kissed. “Thank you. How is Aurim? Has there been any aftereffect?”

“Still nothing. I think he’s safe. Once he succeeded in remembering, the spell apparently dissipated completely. Both the Gryphon and I have checked carefully for the past two weeks. Nothing remains.”

“So no last vestige of Toma to haunt us.” The drake and his evil were dead. Cabe sighed in relief for the first time. It had still been difficult to accept that the duke would trouble them no more.

“Hard to believe that it’s finally all over,” she whispered. “Peace has a chance . . . and through Kyl of all drakes.”

“Peace has a chance,” he agreed, “but it’s hardly all over. There’s a lot to do. The Dragon Kings will accept Kyl as emperor, but that doesn’t mean they’ll cease plotting. Then there’s Zuu and the new generation of mages growing up. This confederacy of drakes . . . they were allies of Toma. There’s a hundred other things that I can think of that will delay peace long past even our lifetimes.”

She gave him a playful frown. “You are without a doubt the most pessimistic optimist I have ever met. Let’s at least enjoy what we’ve achieved so far, all right?”

Cabe took her in his arms and kissed her again. He did feel more hopeful, despite his own words. Perhaps the path was still fraught with rocks and pitfalls, but there was definite hope . . . and who could ask for anything more than that?

The Dragonrealm at peace . . . it was finally possible.