Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III (12 page)

Gritting his teeth, the blue man strained to bend his fingers back. Sweat poured down his forehead as he fought the pain. Slowly, the hand resumed a somewhat more normal appearance, although even achieving that resulted in yet more excruciating torture. In the end, D’Rance could not help moan under his breath. He would somehow find the one who had done this and make him regret it all.

It had been foolish, he knew, to test himself so soon, but the opportunity had presented itself like a gift and the blue man, unable to resist, had leapt in. His reward had been the agony.

But it goes better,
he consoled himself.
I grow more skilled, yes . . .

Forcing himself to use his injured hand, the better to begin living with the pain, D’Rance removed his hood. He began to pick up the helm, then thought better of it. Glancing around to make certain that he would not be interrupted, he pulled from one of the pouches on his belt a small looking glass. Raising it to eye level, the northerner held it so that he could see the left side of his head.

A tiny streak of silver in his hair, a streak that had only weeks ago not existed at all, greeted his gaze.

The blue man smiled. He was making definite progress, yes.

V

“IF YOU THINK
that I’ll let you make this journey alone, Cabe, then you’ve not known the true me even after all these years!”

Had he been anyone else, the warlock would have been more than a little fearful at the sight his wife now presented. She was, for the moment, the woodland goddess, the Lady of the Amber, that many still thought her. Power radiated from her. Her brilliant scarlet tresses fluttered with a life of their own and she seemed to stand almost twice as tall as Cabe. Her emerald eyes sparkled bright, twin green flames that, at other times, had driven him to pleasant distraction. The expression on her face he had only seen once or twice in the past and both those times had been when her children had been threatened.

It hurt him to see her like this, for he knew that it was only her love and fear for him that had raised such a fury.

“You know what we agreed, Gwen. It’s not for us; it’s for the children. It isn’t fair to risk both of us. Someone has to be there for them . . . just in case. You were the one who originally thought that up, remember.”

“I know.” She looked bitter. “But it would be easier if it was me who had to take the risk. Then I’d know that you were safe and watching the children. Whatever I faced, I would be able to face it better knowing that.”

“And I wouldn’t? Gwen, you know that you’re my partner as well as my mate, but this time it has to be me and me alone. The visions came to me—”

“And Aurim.”

He conceded her point. “But I think it might be because he and I are so much alike in many ways. The second time, only I saw the images. Besides, I can’t take
him
with me. He’s not ready . . . unless his control has greatly benefited from the other day.”

Gwen managed a smile. “This morning I found one of the stick men wandering through the garden. Apparently, when Aurim tried to reverse his spell, he couldn’t keep track of them all and this one escaped. No, even if I was willing to risk our son—which I am
not
—I agree that he is not ready.”

“Good.”

“But I will not let you go alone, either. At least wait for the Green Dragon to recover.”

“It’ll be too late. Physically, the attack did little, but magically, it’s drained him. He’ll be too weak for some time.” The warlock strode the length of the bedroom to one of the windows overlooking the gardens. Below, the people whose lives he guided went about their daily activities, only vaguely aware that some important event now occupied the interests of their lord and lady. The two spellcasters had been at this since waking . . . actually, since the night before, when he had broached the subject. He had waited until he was certain of the Dragon King’s condition, because he had hoped the same as her. The Master of the Dagora Forest had agreed that the situation was too great to ignore and had wanted to join him, but at the moment he was even less capable of aiding Cabe than the warlock’s young daughter Valea was.

“Then I
have
to go with you.” She joined him by the window, leaning against his back and putting her arms around him. “We will have to ask Toos to watch the children.”

“I can just see that. I have another idea.”

“What?” Her tone indicated that any idea would be welcome as long as it meant that he would be safe. Unfortunately, both of them knew that there could be no such idea as long as he planned to journey into the depths of Legar, especially if there were wolf raiders there.

“I’m going to try to find Darkhorse. I think I know where he might be and I think that he would be willing to help.”

There had been a time, long ago, when the mere mention of the demonic creature would have brought nothing but a stone silence from the enchantress. Darkhorse was a thing of the Void, an empty place beyond the plane of men. Though he had long worn the form of a giant, shadowy steed, he was more a living hole. His ways were not always the ways of other living creatures, if
living
was a term that could be applied to what he was.

In truth, it was not only what he was that had made him a thing somewhat repulsive to the enchantress, but also the company he had kept. Darkhorse had been a companion to Shade, the warlock whose quest for immortality and power had made him a force swinging from light to darkness with each new incarnation. Only Darkhorse—and perhaps Cabe and Queen Erini, who had come to know the faceless warlock best toward the end—mourned Shade.

Gwen had finally reconciled with Darkhorse, in great part because of his friendship with Cabe. “If you could find him, I would feel much better about this, but that raises the point. How do you hope to find him quickly? He could be anywhere and you yourself said that you really only had this one day, a day we’ve already used part of. He could be anywhere, even beyond the Dragonrealm, you know.”

The dark-haired warlock exhaled. “Other than us, there’s only one person he ever truly visits.”

“Erini.”

“Erini. I’ll visit her and ask if she’s seen him or has news of him. I only wish I’d thought of it when we were there last.”

The enchantress released him and came to his side. She joined him in watching some of the drake and human workers carry a pair of long benches into the depths of the garden. The Bedlams had encouraged their people to make use of the sculpted land, providing they were careful about maintaining it. The population of their tiny domain had grown, however, and so it had become necessary to make some additions and changes to the gardens.

“Melicard may not be too pleased to see you back so soon. I’ve often wondered whether he still blames us in part for his father.”

“Blames me, you mean. Kyrg and Toma were hunting for me when Kyrg brought his army to the gates of Talak.” Cabe frowned, recalling the young prince he had first met. At the time, he had shared much in common with Melicard. Both of them had been unseasoned, naive, when they had been thrust into the center of things. It had cost Melicard his father, but at the same time it had cost Cabe more. He had lost not only the elf who had raised him and had been more of a father to him than Azran ever could have, but also, albeit only in spirit, his grandfather. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter what the truth is in this case. Melicard is Melicard. We have to live with that and I’ve got to put up with that when I arrive there.”

“Then you had best depart now.”

Cabe realized that he had been hesitating, that he could have left minutes before but had talked on. He leaned forward and kissed his wife. It was a kiss that spoke too much of the fact that while they would likely see each other again before he departed for Legar itself, it would only be for a very, very short time.

“Good-bye,” he whispered . . . and disappeared.

UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES
, Cabe would have materialized in one of the greeting areas where dignitaries from other kingdoms awaited an audience with Melicard. Times were not normal, however, and so the warlock chose to instead appear in the most likely chamber where he might find the queen. He hoped to locate her and find out what information he could, then leave before Melicard discovered his presence. It would be easier that way.

Erini took her lessons and tested her magical skills in what had once been an auxiliary training room for the palace guard. Much to his misfortune, though, she was not there this day. Cabe had hoped she had been practicing. It was the right time of day, but he knew that Erini occasionally altered her schedule. Scratching his chin, he contemplated his next move. There were perhaps two or three other places he might find the queen alone, no more. Other than those locations, he stood a good chance of confronting the king, too.

She was not in the riding range nor was she in the next location he visited, the private rooms of Princess Lynnette, only child of the king and queen. Standing among the elegant but fanciful pictures of woodland creatures that decorated the princess’s chambers, Cabe quietly swore; he did not have time to go running about searching for Queen Erini. Time was short enough. There was still the monumental task of locating Darkhorse.

He recalled then another place. There was a possibility that the king might also be there, but it was less likely than his remaining choices. He teleported.

She was sitting in a chair, a tiny globe of light shining above her head, when Cabe manifested not more than an arm’s length before her. Queen Erini dropped the book she had been reading and gasped, but she was quick-witted enough to recognize the warlock and thereby stifle the scream that would have surely followed.

“Cabe! By Rheena! You know that you are always welcome in my presence, but certainly
this
is rather extreme!”

Queen Erini of Talak did not much resemble the image of a sorceress or a witch as most in the Dragonrealm thought of the type. She seemed, in fact, more the perfect storybook princess. Slim and delicate in appearance, with long tresses the color of summer accenting her oval face, Erini looked hardly out of her teens even though she was long past that time. Her pale features were without flaw. Unlike the day of her last lesson, she was now clad in a more sensible and less formal silver and red dress, one that a person could actually walk around and sit down in. It still had its share of jewels sewn into it and the typical puffed sleeves of royal garments, but otherwise it was actually rather plain. He suspected it was probably her favorite dress for that very reason. When last he had seen her, she had been wearing an elaborate gown of gold, an affectation of her former homeland, Gordag-Ai. It had completed the image of a young queen who should have been more at home doing embroidery in the company of her ladies-in-waiting than attempting to perform a magical spell of moderate complexity. Yet while it was true that Erini was fond of embroidery, she was also a woman who had let it be known long ago that she would be more than a showpiece for her husband, King Melicard I. She was a person who followed her own mind in all things, although she did respect the opinions and thoughts of others, especially her husband.

The king, to the surprise of many in those first years, had argued little. He loved his wife for what she was, not what she represented.

Cabe Bedlam quickly knelt before her. It was likely not necessary, for Erini considered both spellcasters her social equals, but it made Cabe feel better for the shock he had given her. “Forgive me, Queen Erini! I searched for you in the most obvious places and then recalled your fondness for the royal library.” The bluerobed warlock glanced around at the impressive array of tomes that had been collected in the oak-paneled room. Other than Penacles, the City of Knowledge, Talak boasted one of the finest collections of writing in the Dragonrealm. The books were, for the most part, copies, however. Melicard had sent scribes throughout the continent on quests to obtain access to whatever bits of writing they could find. At Erini’s urging, he was now also having some of the
copies
copied so that others could share in what his people had discovered. “I’ve come on urgent business so my arrival was a bit more abrupt than I would’ve wished. I hope that you will overlook my transgression.”

“Only if you take a chair and cease to be so formal,
Master
Bedlam.” She indicated one of the half-dozen elegant and padded chairs situated in the carpeted room. A slight smile played at her lips. “And you need not fear my husband’s presence. He is engaged in some proper time with his daughter, someone he sees too little of considering the great love he bears for her.”

“My thanks, Que—Erini.” Although Cabe’s body was tense with anxiety, he forced himself to sit across from the queen.

The warlock waited until she had picked up her book and put it on the tiny table beside her. The ball of light, which had bobbled about during her initial fright, remained situated above her head. Cabe nodded at the magical lamp. “I see you’ve been practicing. It’s very steady.”

“I only wish I’d practiced years ago. To think of the time I’ve wasted!”

He shook his head. “I wish you’d quit thinking that. Erini, if there’s one thing I know, you’ve not wasted time. You have a husband and a beautiful young daughter. You’ve made Melicard a king more accessible to the people’s needs.” Cabe waved a hand at the rows of neatly arranged books. “You’ve encouraged learning to read. The only access I ever had to reading was what Hadeen the elf owned. In fact, the only reason I ever learned to read was because of him. Now, you threaten to make Talak second only to Penacles in the education of its subjects.” He folded his arms. “I could give more examples, but that should be sufficient.”

“I threaten to make Talak second to none, actually,” the slim monarch replied. The smile had not only returned, but it had spread. “You are correct, Cabe, but I still cannot help feeling angry at myself for all those years I left my power to languish.”

“You’d seen too much death and destruction. It wasn’t what you were raised for.”