Legends of the Dragonrealm Volume 2

VII

ERINI WOKE THE next day feeling as if the dreams of her childhood had become reality. Yesterday had turned the fears of the future back into hopes. Yesterday, she had met Melicard the man.

In the light of day, the magical aspects of his unique features had taken on a new quality. Erini had thought him handsome in spite of the coldness of his elfwood side; now, she saw that the elfwood could enhance as well. There was a beauty to the wood when it became one with the king’s pale skin. The rare wood had always been beautiful by itself, but, as Melicard had seemed to draw from it, so, too, had it drawn from him. The two sides of his face had become one despite their differences.

Even the stiff, artificial arm had felt smoother, more supple than earlier.

Galea and Magda came and helped her this morning; a good thing, too, since she found she could not concentrate. Her thoughts continued to be of yesterday’s journey out onto the palace grounds and the tower to which he had led her. It was part of the wall and there were three others identical to it spread equal distances apart. This was the best one, Melicard had informed her quietly, to view the city as a whole.

His manners were rusty, as would be reasonable after so many years with so little practice. Still, the more they walked together-without the ever-present shadow of Mal Quorin-the more a new man had emerged; a new man, or one who had been locked away for over a decade. More and more, Erini was discovering that the dark, moody ruler of Talak was a creation of Melicard’s own fears and, though she dared not suggest it openly, the influence of men like the counselor. This was not to say that the drakes were innocent, not by far, but the princess knew that some, at least, were trying to make peace with humanity. The others… she could not entirely fault Melicard’s crusade.

He had pointed to the north first. “There you see the old center. After the palace was built here, everything shifted. The buildings in the old center were torn down and new ones put up. Since there’s a gate over there, merchants and travellers have taken it over much the way they have the other gates. Also out that way is the main garrison of the city. A remnant of the days when a drake ruled from the Tybers.”

Sensing his mood changing at the mention of the Dragon Emperor, Erini had turned west and pointed at a number of fancier buildings. “What about those?”

“The wealthier families. Master merchants and the old blood make their homes there. You probably saw some of that since the gate you entered lies in that direction.”

She smiled then, already knowing the effect a smile would have on him. Few women-few people-had smiled at him and meant it, possibly because the king never smiled himself.

In the tower, he had returned her smile. She wondered how she could have ever thought it would be a chilling sight. In reply to his comment, the princess said, “There was so much to see that I cannot recall half of what I passed. Besides, most of the time my thoughts were on meeting you.”

Only one other thing disturbed the otherwise pleasant tour. Pointing to a large structure in the eastern side of Talak, the princess asked, “What is that? I saw a building like that in the west. Are they theatres? Arenas?”

“In a sense. You’ll find similar buildings in the northern and southern parts of Talak as well. All together, they house a standing force at least five times the size of the armies of Penacles, Zuu, or Irillian by the Sea.”

A standing army. The city of Zuu, though far to the southeast of Gordag-ai, was familiar to her by name at least. Though relatively small in comparison to giants like Penacles and the maritime Irillian, their armies were of similar strength-mainly because nearly every adult was willing to take on a foe and being a part of the army was considered an honor. Erini did not understand the ways of Zuu, but if Melicard had a force five times the population of that city-state…

THE REST OF the day went peacefully. She had eaten with the king for the first time and, during the course of the dinner, had carefully broached the subject of their courtship and impending marriage. Melicard’s replies were short and vague, but more, she suspected, from shyness than reluctance. Realizing she was starting to push things too quickly, the princess turned to small talk.

Her betrothed had walked her to her room, where both ladies-in-waiting tried not to look disconcerted at the sight of their mistress and the king walking arm in arm. Melicard wished her a pleasant evening and departed. Erini could not recall when exactly she had finally gone to bed, only knowing that she had probably spent several hours either thinking or talking about the king-whether Galea and Magda wanted to hear it or not.

Now, at the beginning of what she hoped to be an even more promising day, the princess found she could not be satisfied with anything she wore. Magda tsked a lot, reminding her that it was Erini the king was to marry, not a particular dress. Erini grew flushed. Here she was acting like the mindless young things that had always surrounded her at the palace back in Gordag-Ai. Always they had spoken of this young duke or that in giddy terms, much to her annoyance. Now, she realized with a wry smile, she was acting every bit as empty-headed.

“Give me that one,” she commanded with as much conviction as she could muster, pointing at a dress she had already tried on. Galea shook her head and picked it up again.

Some time later, as Erini studied her finished self in one of the mirrors, she discovered she was still dissatisfied with the dress.

Is this what love is? the princess wondered. I hope not. I’ll never be able to live with myself if I keep acting this way.

A servant arrived just as she was about to leave her room and informed her that something had come up; Melicard was begging her forgiveness but he would not be joining her.

“What is it? Does Talak face an attack? Is Melicard injured or ill?”

“He did not say, milady. He seemed well, though, and there was no word of an encroaching army in the outlands. I know nothing more.”

“Thank you.” Erini ended up eating only with her ladies. All through her meal, a meal which proved that, if nothing else, Melicard had someone who could perform miracles with eggs and spices, she found herself returning to the mysterious actions of yesterday. The strange states of the sorcerer, Drayfitt. The anger and fear of Mal Quorin. The door in the garden wall.

The door in the garden wall?

After brunch, she insisted that her two companions learn more about the city so that they would feel more comfortable. With a start, she also realized that she had yet to speak to the captain of the troop that had accompanied her coach to Talak from Gordag-Ai. The hapless soldier had not disturbed her, obviously believing she was too busy adjusting to Melicard to speak to him. Surely, though, the captain and his men wanted to return home as soon as possible, didn’t they?

“Magda, before the two of you depart, would you please ask someone to summon-oh, what is his name? The captain of the cavalry troop that my father had accompany us.”

“Captain Iston?” Galea piped up quickly. “I’ll do it for you, Madga. I know you have some things you want to take care of before we leave.”

“Thank you, Galea. I’d appreciate that.”

The princess, who felt she had missed something, looked at her other companion as soon as Galea was out of the room. Magda smiled briefly. “Little Galea and Captain Iston have known each other for several months. He is the third son of Duke Crombey and a career soldier himself. That his unit was given to you is a sign of favor on the part of your parents.”

“Gave to me? Do you mean to tell me-”

“They’re staying here, yes. Permanent attachment. Not one of those men has a family to return to. If I may be forward, I hope you’ll encourage Galea. The captain is a bit older than her, but they are very serious and definitely a good match. She will bear him strong children.”

Erini fought down a grimace. “Is that his main priority with her? Passing on his name to a new generation?”

“It has some importance.” The taller woman looked at her curiously. “Your father, King Laris, and Melicard’s father kept that in mind, I imagine. Most royal marriages are set up that way and quite a few more common ones as well-but, before you say what your face is already shouting, I think I speak truthfully when I say that Galea and her cavalry officer would marry even if children were out of the question.”

The princess looked at her older lady with new respect. “You surprise me, Mag. The two of you aren’t that much older than me-”

“Fourteen years is not that much older? You flatter me.”

“As I was saying, sometimes I watch you and I see those creatures that my father insisted I associate with, those-those crystalline dolls of the court. Other times, you seem to be in command of the world.”

Magda made some adjustments on Erini’s dress. “No secret there. I’m a woman. If you want a puzzle to play with, try to figure out men. Now there’s a mystery.”

Erini thought of Melicard and nodded.

HER TALK WITH Captain Iston was short. Once she had gotten over the fact that her parents had turned an entire unit of Gordag-Ai’s cavalry over to her-as a personal guard-the rest was simple. Captain Iston proved to be a competent soldier and one of the few who listened to her without trying to act parental.

“I have only one request, then, your majesty,” he said at the conclusion of their talk.

“That is?”

“It makes little sense for your bodyguards to be so far away from you. True, we are cavalry, but any soldier of Gordag-Ai is also a master warrior on foot, too. We were given the honor of becoming yours. At the very least, let me set up a series of watches so that each man can perform his duties.”

Erini thought it over and nodded. “I’ll have to talk to King Melicard first, captain, but I don’t think that he will object to my request.” Counselor Quorin might, but his likes and dislikes meant little to the princess. “I think I’d also like you to have a permanent place in the palace itself, captain. There will be times when I’ll need you and I want you to start developing ties with our new countrymen.”

“Your majesty, I’m a soldier! I should be sleeping with my men!”

“You won’t be far. Besides, an officer is allowed some privacy, I think. You’ve earned the right to live life a little, too.”

Magda and Galea announced themselves almost as if on cue. Iston did his best to maintain a military appearance, though his eyes wandered to the shorter lady-in-waiting more than once.

“We were about to leave, as you suggested, when I thought that there might be something in particular you wanted us to look for. Good day, captain.”

“Good day, my ladies.”

Erini smiled while the officer’s eyes were on other matters. “Nothing, thank you, but a thought occurred to me. Captain Iston, if it would not be inconvenient, I have one more request of you.”

He bowed. “Name it.”

“I am occupied with many things at the moment, but I want someone to get to know the city. Magda and Galea are performing that favor for me. I’d feel better, however, if they had someone trustworthy to protect them-just in case. Would you be so kind as to take a few of your men and escort them? It would give you a chance to study Talak for yourself, something you were undoubtedly planning, anyway.”

Iston hesitated, then, with a glance at Galea, nodded. “A wise idea, your majesty. If the ladies will permit me a few minutes, I will have horses and half a dozen of my finest join us. Will that be acceptable, my ladies?”

Galea was silent with just the slightest crimson in her cheeks, but Magda took events in hand and gave her approval. “That will be fine, Captain Iston.”

“Has the princess any other need for me?”

“None.”

The cavalry officer extended his arms. “If the two of you will accompany me?”

Erini watched them depart, Galea’s hold on Iston so tight, the princess wondered if it would be possible to separate them again.

Her feeling of joy increased tenfold. She was on her way to strengthening her relationship with Melicard and now her own people were beginning to adjust to their new home. She turned to the mirror for one last look, wanting to be her best when she found her betrothed, which she would. Now there was only-

Erini started.

A figure stood visible in the mirror. A hooded figure much like Drayfitt, only younger in stature, but clad in garments a bit archaic for the times. She could not make out his face; something about the angle seemed to make it indistinct, almost a blur. His cowled head had just turned in her direction…

She whirled instinctively. Her hands began to move of their own accord.

The room was empty.

Erini glanced back in the mirror, almost expecting to see the figure still standing there. Nothing. She turned and rushed to the spot where he had stood. Kneeling, the princess touched the floor.

There were bits of dirt in the vague shape of a heel.

A feeling of ancient, enduring power caught her by surprise and she fell backward, only barely managing to stifle a scream. It was the first time she had truly sensed another spellcaster and, though she did not understand exactly what she had done, Erini had a fair idea of what she had felt.

She debated for some time what to tell Melicard, if anything. All she had to prove her story was a tiny clump of dirt that even the princess had to admit could have come from her own shoes or, more likely, the shoes of some errant servant. Only because of her increasing sensitivity to the powers did she know for certain that what had been reflected in the mirror was no figment of her imaginative mind. Erini could visualize Mal Quorin’s expression should she give in and tell Melicard or anyone else her secret. It would probably be the fatal blow to the betrothal.

Not now. Not yet. I have to wait. Her decision was far from strong and she wavered even as she chose. Drayfitt! He might understand, but… won’t he tell Melicard? Erini knew that the sorcerer was extremely loyal to his liege and that such loyalty might demand he betray the princess. Erini muttered a curse her father did not know she had overheard countless times while growing up. She slowly rose, deciding that she would postpone telling anyone for the time being. Her only fear was that, by doing so, she might let some other danger grow unchecked.

Confused and no longer looking forward to the day, the princess left her chambers. Whatever else happened today, nothing matched the importance of strengthening her relationship with Melicard. Nothing save what might destroy that relationship before it matured.

PRINCESS ERINI FOUND Melicard in the least likely of places in the palace. He was holding court-in a sense. What she actually discovered was a huge, nearly empty throne room in which the king sat on a simple chair-not even the throne, which stood empty at the top of a dais-and argued with four or five men whom Erini realized were emissaries from other city-states. Quorin, standing behind the king, looked on in a combination of barely contained anger and contempt.

“… drake lovers, all of you. I should have guessed as much, especially from you, Zuuite. You’ve long lived under the beneficial rule of the Green Dragon, haven’t you?”

The emissary from Zuu replaced his helm, which he had been holding in the fold of one arm. A bear in size, he looked more than ready to trade blows with Melicard. Instead, he retorted, “Tell that to Prince Blane and the others who died defending Penacles from the Lochivarites and the monstrous forces of the Black Dragon and the drake commander Kyrg! You recall the sadist Duke Kyrg, do you not, your majesty?”

It was a telling blow. Kyrg’s name, Erini recalled, conjured images in Melicard’s mind of his father slowly losing control as the drake ate freely from the writhing bodies of still-living animals. Rennek IV had spent the next week babbling on and on about not wanting to be eaten alive, something he knew that Kyrg had been capable of doing. Those memories were only two of the many that haunted Melicard almost every night.

The king’s face turned as pale as bone. The elfwood hand came down on the arm of the chair and broke it into splinters. Even Mal Quorin stepped back from the rising fury of his master.

“Get… them… out of… here, Quorin! Get them out before I forget treaties!”

As the counselor rushed around the chair to aid the emissaries in their hasty departure, Erini started forward. She had been waiting out of sight near one of the side doors to the massive room with the intention of joining her betrothed once the talks were finished. Now, the princess wanted nothing more than to soothe Melicard before his anger drove him to further destruction and possible injury.

A firm hand clamped itself on her shoulder. “Your majesty, I wouldn’t recommend you speak to him at this time.”

She turned on the sudden intruder, intending to give him a strong, royal reprimand, and met the sad gaze of the sorcerer Drayfitt.

“He is in a dangerous mood, milady, and neither of us should be nearby. Things have not gone well.” The aged spellcaster shook his head slowly. “And I fear that I am the cause of much of it.”

“So what have your problems to do with me?”

Drayfitt gave her a sour smile. “Counselor Quorin, in what may be his finest performance, has been trying to make your arrival and stay here a detriment to the king’s crusade. He’s already pointed out how you kept the king occupied while I destroyed Quorin’s damnable book.”

Erini blinked. “Book? What are you talking about, mage?”

“I speak too much. Suffice to say, milady, King Melicard is not quite certain about the courtship. We have to give him a little time to recall all you did for him yesterday-and it was significant, I can tell you. He was almost the Melicard of long ago.”

“You ramble a bit, Master Drayfitt,” the princess paused, “but I will stay clear of him for a short while-providing you give me some answers I seek.”

Drayfitt closed his eyes in concentration. When he opened them, he quietly replied, “Don’t ask me about yesterday. Even I don’t know everything-as Quorin has reminded me again and again.”

The spellcaster’s muttered words did little to assuage Erini’s curiosity, but she knew there were other ways to find out what she wanted to know. The princess was about to ask him a question that she was fairly certain he would answer, when the elderly man stumbled against the wall. Erini reached out and grabbed his hand to prevent him from sliding to the floor.

He regained his balance almost immediately, but the look on his face was the most tragic yet. “Forgive me, princess. My powers have been tested beyond their limits lately; I’ve made heavy use of them much too late in life. Had I continued to train, to practice, while I was still young…” Drayfitt’s voice trailed off as he stared at Erini’s hand, which he still held in his own. After several seconds, he looked up at the princess as if she had sprouted wings. All his grief, all his exhaustion, seemed to vanish as he said, “Step down the corridor with me, please. We need privacy. I think there is something we must talk about quickly.”

Not knowing whether she was mad to trust him, Erini reluctantly followed. Drayfitt led her along for quite some time, refusing to release her hand from his own. She began to worry. What if the spellcaster cared as little for her as Mal Quorin did? Despite his polite, sometimes helpful attitude, he might object to the marriage as much as the counselor did. What did he see in her hand?

As if trying to relieve her fears, Drayfitt turned and smiled assurance. He led her around a corner and stopped. There were no guards in sight.

“I could’ve touched the minds of some of the sentries and had our talk in a more open place, but such flamboyancy always backfires. Knowing something as simple but important as that was one reason I lived peacefully most of my life. I dearly wish it was still true.”

“What do you want with me?”

“You have a natural affinity like none that I have ever seen.”

The sorcerer continued to hold her hand, studying it closely as if looking for some minuscule marking. Erini had a very uncomfortable idea that she knew what he was searching for. Nevertheless, she played innocent. “What sort of affinity? For excellent fingernails? For having the ‘fair skin’ of a maiden in the tales of the minstrels and players?”

His features grew grim. “Don’t play games with me, your majesty! You know what sort of affinity I talk of. Have you felt the involuntary desire to test your skills? What do you see? Most burgeoning spellcasters see the lines and fields of power that crisscross the world. Others see the spectrum, the dark and the light, and choose what they need from that. Which are you, Princess Erini?”

He’ll tell Melicard! The thought was an irrational outburst, but Erini did not care. She was not yet ready to face the king with her own curse, not until she was certain her relationship with him was stronger. The princess tried to pull away, pretending to be offended. “You’re mad! I am a princess of Gordag-Ai and the betrothed of your own monarch! Release me at one and forget this nonsense!”

Drayfitt’s other hand shot forward and Erini had momentary fear that the sorcerer was going to strike her. Instead, his hand went up to the hair above her eyes. Mystified, she stood silent as the elderly man searched for something.

“Aaaah! The growth is slower than I would’ve thought, but it seems to be different with each magic-user. Interesting. Ishmir was wrong.”

“What-what are you talking about now?” She jerked her head away, as if suddenly feeling continued contact would affect her somehow. Simultaneously, Drayfitt released her hand.

“There is a lock of silver amongst your beautiful, golden tresses, Princess Erini. The silver will expand-magically, you might say-as your abilities grow. Soon-and sooner than you want, I know-it will be impossible to hide it. Before that point, you must decide what you will do.”

This was the last thing she had expected to deal with this morning. Erini stepped back and smoothed her dress, more to try to calm herself than because it needed it. “You don’t know what you’re saying! If you will excuse me, Master Drayfitt, I believe I will retire to my chambers. I’m not feeling well.”

She started to go around him, but the aged sorcerer took hold of her again. His strength was phenomenal, a complete contrast to his weakness a moment before. A fire burned in his eyes. “Don’t make the mistake I did, milady. Even if you never need them, it is best to hone your skills. I can help you. I’ve lived through the pain and the fear-more than most, I regret to say. I can teach you. There is no choice; your abilities will grow with or without your permission.”

“Let me go,” Erini commanded icily.

Drayfitt obeyed, but he was not yet through speaking. “Think about it. I’ll be honest. I may need your assistance later on.” As her eyes widened, he immediately added, “What I ask of you will only benefit King Melicard, not hurt him. I want the best for him, as do you. I think that your marriage will may possibly save him from the fate of his father-or worse.”

Erini could listen no more. There was too much in what Drayfitt had said that had the ring of truth or, at the very least, conviction. A part of her wanted to turn to him for whatever aid he could give her… but the fear of losing everything and the shame of what she was becoming held her back. Perhaps some time alone would let her clear the fog that had grown thick in her mind.

As she walked stiffly away, the sorcerer called after her, “I hope you feel better, your majesty. Let us talk again soon.”

She did not respond.

THE THRONE FELT proper beneath him. Taloned hands stroked the cracked armrests. He smiled as he thought of the others making obeisance to him, awarding what was due to him after these frustrating past few years.

The hatchlings are tainted, the Silver Dragon decided. They have lived with humans for too long. That was the fault of the Green Dragon, master of the Dagora Forest and ally to the humans. When the Gold Dragon had been defeated, the royal hatchlings had been taken by traitorous Green and turned over to Cabe Bedlam, the foulest of the human race. Now, those hatchlings that would have become Dragon Kings were on their way to becoming human sheep instead.

It is the only thing to do. They must be eliminated eventually so that some other traitor does not try to use them as puppets. The line that rules all others will be mine. My claim is strongest. They will see that. I will make them see that.

“I didn’t return to you so that you could sit dreaming in a broken-down chair.”

The Dragon King jumped. “Curse you, warlock! Announce yourself from now on!”

Shade stepped out of the darkness of a nearby tunnel and looked around. “Where are your brave warriors? Out trying to scrounge up some more toys to replace your crystal bauble?”

“What of it?” The crystal had been a double blow to the drake’s ambitions. Not only had it broken, but the chamber of the Vraad and several others nearby were now impassable. The smoky substance released by the artifact showed no sign of dissipating, either. Even Shade, who had come back to look for the Silver Dragon, would not enter.

The shadowy sorcerer had still not explained exactly why he had chosen to finally accept the drake’s offer of an alliance. It was not for what the Dragon King had already discovered, though there was one item of interest that the warlock wanted-or at least remembered-nor was it because they shared common goals. Shade seemed to care little who was emperor, as it long as it did not interfere with his own goals, whatever those might be.

“Nothing,” Shade finally replied in answer to the drake lord’s question. “Let them search.”

“What about you?” Silver’s reptilian eyes narrowed sharply. “Did you find it?”

“You said it was in the palace.”

“Correct.”

The warlock shook his head. “I will try again later. Something went amiss.” A slight hint of humor touched his normally indifferent voice. “I ended up in the personal chambers of the king’s bride-to-be. She’ll probably have nightmares for weeks and drive Melicard mad.”

The Silver Dragon chuckled. “Such a tragedy is little in comparison to what I intend to do to that cowardly scavenger of a human! Talak will fall as Mito Pica fell-but, this time, there will not be enough left over to rise again. After Talak… Penacles, I think.”

“Why not Gordag-Ai in the region of Esedi? Your ‘brother’ there is dead and few of his clan remain active; you’ve already taken claim to his kingdom. Teach your subjects that they must obey you. That is the point of having true power.”

Shade watched the Dragon King visibly mull over the thought. Gordag-Ai would be easier pickings and boost the morale of the drake’s clans. It would also guarantee that his erstwhile draconian ally would remain busy, thereby gaining Shade valuable time-time to remember what it was he had set out to do and whether he had any right to do it.

Staring at one of the majestic effigies lying broken on the cavern floor, the warlock tried to ignore the increased pressure building in his head. He knew his mind had changed again, simply by the added pain. Shade also knew that the fact that he could recall his personality changes meant that he was beginning to stabilize. What worried him was what he would be like at that point.

He felt some shame and remorse for his past actions, especially against Darkhorse, but yet, at the same time, it was his growing feeling that those who stood in his way, regardless of their reasons, were simply in the wrong. If they surrendered to the inevitable, the warlock would leave them be-maybe-but if they continued to oppose him, he felt he was justified in removing them in whatever way necessary.

Shade realized that the drake lord was speaking. “What was that you said?”

“I asked you what you think you are doing, human! Is this how you vent your frustrations?” The Dragon King pointed toward the spot Shade had been staring at moments before.

The warlock returned his gaze to the effigy-or to where it had once lain. Now, there was only a pile of fine dust. Very fine dust. Shade looked down at his hands. They literally glowed with the use of the powers.

“I am Vraad,” he whispered to himself. “Vraad is power.” The words had been spoken millennia before by many, all of whom, save Shade, were dead now. It had almost been a litany to the race, and his remembrance of it was yet another sign of what was happening to him. Still, it bothered the spellcaster that he had reduced the ancient statue to ash without realizing it. A warning beat briefly against the walls of his mind, but the pain drowned it out. He looked up at the impatient and somewhat nervous Dragon King. “Merely a little carelessness on my part.”

The drake’s burning red eyes narrowed. “Yesss. That is what got you into your predicament originally, is it not?”

“Watch your tongue, drake lord. It might dart too far out of your mouth once too often.”

The Silver Dragon hissed anxiously. Because Shade had found a need for him, he had grown overly confident about his power. Only now did the drake realize that there were limits to which he could push the spellcaster. Both knew that the alliance was temporary at best. Quickly, the would-be emperor turned the conversation back to an earlier subject. “What do you ssseek in the book? Most of it makes little sense.”

“A key, of sorts. I really don’t know what. Not yet, but soon. Soon I’ll be my old self again.” A vague line that was what now passed for his smile surfaced briefly, faltered, and died. Shade wrapped his cloak about him and, as the Dragon King rose in the sudden realization that something was amiss, vanished.

Through his own words, the warlock had just rediscovered the purpose, the goal, of his search-and why he dared not let anyone, even Darkhorse, stand in his way.