Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III (94 page)

Without pause, the two guardians began to shift aside. Faras, too, had broken contact with whoever had spoken to the two of them. He dipped his head in what might have been construed a draconian bow.

“This is a trick,” rumbled Darkhorse softly. “They shall let us pass and then try to catch us from all sides.”

Eyeing the dragons, Cabe scratched his chin. “I don’t know. They
look
as if they’re telling the truth,” he whispered back.

“How would you
have
them look if they wanted you to believe their story?”

“Good point, but there’s only one way to really find out whether they’re lying or not, isn’t there?”

“And if they are, we shall easily take them, won’t we?” The eternal chuckled, which made the dragons, who had been unable to hear the conversation, tense.

The warlock and the shadow steed started forward, but then Faras, who more directly faced Darkhorse, hissed and shook his head. “Noooo . . . only
you,
Massster Bedlam! Only you. Ssso the emperor hasss
spoken.
”

“Through Duke Toma, no doubt,” muttered Cabe.

“I will
not
accept this!” roared his companion. “We go together!”

The two dragons shifted nearer one another, effectively cutting off any glimpse of the entrance to the Dragon Emperor’s sanctum. “That isss not permitted,” added Faras.

Darkhorse looked ready to charge both scaled titans, but Cabe quickly put out a hand to halt him. “No, Darkhorse. If we fight, then we certainly endanger Valea. I’ll go in alone.”

“You cannot walk blindly into such an obvious trap!”

“But I
won’t
be blind, will I?”

Ssgayn moved a stride closer, a great distance when one considered that he was a dragon. Darkhorse thought it
too
great, for he suddenly darted ahead of Cabe, becoming, in effect, a shield between the warlock and the leviathan.

The drake did not retreat, but he did pull his head back. “I only convey my liege’sss promissse that this will be a proper, peaceful audience.” Ssgayn’s reptilian eyes met the sorcerer’s own. “Thisss my
emperor
ssswears!”

Whether or not he truly believed the guardian, the warlock had no true choice. Valea needed him. “Very well. I’ll enter alone.”

“Cabe! I—”

“You’ll be near enough, Darkhorse,” Cabe interjected, glancing at his companion. “If this
is
a ploy, do whatever you have to do.”

Neither dragon looked comfortable with that notion, but they did not appear ready to back away.
I hope it doesn’t come to that,
Cabe thought.
Darkhorse isn’t as strong as he generally is and . . . and I’ve known Ssgayn and Faras so long.

The ebony stallion settled down, albeit with reluctance. He glared at the two huge drakes. “Very well . . . but I shall be waiting for your summons, Cabe. Do not hesitate in the least, and rest assured that I
will
come to you . . . no matter what or who I must go through.”

From the expressions on the draconian visages of Faras and Ssgayn, Cabe knew that Darkhorse would have to fight both of them if he did try to pass. The warlock shook his head as he started toward the guardians. If this was the path to peace, then perhaps the old days
were
better.

The two behemoths again moved aside, making a clear path for the warlock. Faras kept one eye on Cabe while Ssgayn studied the shadow steed carefully. The warlock paid no further attention to the guardians; his gaze was on the great bronze gate before him. It
had
been repaired recently, possibly by the Dragon Kings in preparation for the ascension. Toma would not have had the time or patience, not even if he had been willing to use sorcery. He could also not have replaced it during his long exile, for the other drake lords would have investigated immediately. That the gate had been repaired interested Cabe. It meant that at least someone had been fairly certain of Kyl’s success, and since only the Dragon Kings ever came here, it
had
to have been one of them.

That was something he could think about later . . . always providing there
was
a later.

He was just about to reach forward and knock on the gate when it swung open to receive him.

There was no one within. Cabe stepped into the gloom of the cavern and looked around.

A figure suddenly stepped out of the darkness, a figure who the warlock knew quite well.

“Ursa!”

Her sorrowful smile told him that she was not under the sort of spell that Toma had cast upon Gwendolyn. Cabe was glad to see that, but at the same time, he felt worse because Ursa was clearly a slave. She was clad in fine emerald-and-gold raiment worthy of her status as drake dam of the royal line, yet being here was clearly not by her choice.

“If you will follow me, Master Bedlam, they are waiting for you.”

She started to turn away, but he caught her arm. “Ursa, can you tell me if—”

“We have to go to them, Massster Bedlam,” the beautiful drake insisted, turning anxious. “I cannot sssay anything.”

“Toma?”

The look in her eyes was answer enough. Cabe quickly released his hold on her. With Ursa in the lead, they began the trek through the dark cavern entrance. Creatures fluttered about above them. The warlock heard something fairly large scuttle away.

“May we at least have some light?”

The words were no more off his tongue when a dim, golden sphere materialized before them. From Ursa’s gasp, he gathered that she was not responsible. Toma was keeping a very keen eye on his old foe.

It was the longest short walk in which Cabe had ever partaken. He knew that the distance to the main cavern was but three or four minutes, yet time seemed to slow during the journey. It felt more like an hour. That might have been due to his own anxiety concerning Valea or, knowing Toma, it
might
have been a spell.

Certainly, his first glimpse of the main cavern when he and Ursa finally emerged seemed to be the product of a spell.

When last Cabe had left here, the throne room of the Dragon Emperor had been a fallen ruin. The huge stone effigies that lined the path to the throne had been in total disarray, with many of them tipped over and shattered. Vast portions of the ceiling had collapsed. While the massive stone throne itself had more or less survived, the steps of the dais it stood upon had been cracked and broken. All around, the Gold Dragon’s treasures had been crushed.

Here, too, someone had tried and succeeded in repairing much of the damage. Now there were barely any signs that the destruction created in the process of bringing down the mad emperor had ever taken place. Only a few telltale cracks and some missing fragments gave any indication that the warlock’s last visit had not been a delusion.

On the throne once occupied by his sire sat Kyl.

To his left stood Valea.

At the sight of his daughter, the mage started forward. Ursa shook her head and tried to grab hold of his sleeve, but Cabe moved too swiftly for her. He stalked toward the path and the effigies, his only concern being to get Valea safely away.

“
That
. . . will be far enough, warlock.”

From behind the statues nearest to the dais stepped Toma. The renegade duke wore the form of the knight, but instead of his more normal green coloring, the drake was a resplendent gold and green. Cabe had seen him like this only once before, when Toma had invaded Talak and had captured both Gwendolyn and him.

A movement near Valea tore Cabe’s gaze from the deadly drake. To the sorcerer’s shock and amazement, he watched as Grath, materializing out of the shadows, seized hold of the young witch’s arms. Kyl’s brother bore an expression of interest in the proceedings, nothing more. Cabe did not even have to utilize his skills to know that Grath was no prisoner, no enchanted victim. He was a willing participant in Toma’s madness.

It was all the mage could do to keep his fury under control.

“It isss cussstomary to kneel before the emperor,” Toma announced.

“I am not a drake, as you know,” returned Cabe. He gave the renegade a slight smile. “Besides, I recall the ascension being some days away still . . . if it still comes after what you’ve done.”

At that, Kyl leaned forward. There was something in his manner that the warlock thought bespoke of built-up tension. The heir resembled a trap set much too tight, so that the slightest touch would set it off. Cabe thought it an interesting contrast to the attitude of the other two drakes. “What do you mean by that?”

“He meansss nothing by it, Your Majesty. He isss seeking to undermine you, to ssstir phantom fears in the hopesss that you will be a less able monarch becaussse of them.” Toma took a few steps upward as he spoke. Almost midway to the top, he turned to again study the human. “He hasss never desired a
strong
ruler for our race. That would be too much a danger to growing
human
control. That would be too much a danger to the power that he and hisss friends wield.”

Cabe wanted to laugh, although the duke’s words were anything but humorous. “I’m hardly
you,
Toma. I never asked for or desired
my
power the way that you covet not only yours but everyone else’s. Neither I nor any of the others have tried to seize the entire land . . . unlike you.”

“I did what I did in the name of my father, the
emperor.
”

“And now you do it in the name of your brother?”

“Of course,” replied the duke in all solemnity. “Ssserving the emperor hasss always been my duty . . . but perhapsss you cannot fathom sssuch thinking, warlock.”

Cabe took a defiant step forward. Kyl leaned back in the throne, his eyes darting from the warlock to Toma and then back to Cabe again. Grath tightened his hold on Valea, who was clearly under some spell that did not allow her to move of her own accord. Cabe was, however, fairly certain that she could both hear and see him. “Oh, I can fathom such thinking, as you say, but not in regards to
you,
Toma. I know you. I remember. Perhaps you did have some loyalty to the Gold Dragon, but I wonder just how much of that has been transferred to the one who, because he bears the markings that you feel life cheated you of, sits on the throne that
would
have been yours, otherwise.”

The duke hissed in anger, but said nothing. Cabe noted with interest how Kyl studied his supposed champion. It was not the type of look that he would have expected. The heir was not so pleased with Toma as the warlock had first imagined.
What else have I been mistaken about?

“You have ssstill not anssswered my question, Massster Bedlam. What do you mean when you sssay that my ascension to the throne isss now in jeopardy?”

He had Kyl listening. That was more than Cabe could have hoped for under the circumstances. Toma clearly wanted to find some reason to prevent the warlock from answering, but to interrupt again would only serve to indicate the danger the duke felt Cabe’s response represented.

“First, I must assume that it was not the duke’s original intention to cause such chaos so close to the culmination of his plans. I must assume that he wanted you to be firmly ensconced on the throne . . . with Grath beside you acting as his mouth.” The last was only a guess, but from the way Kyl’s brother behaved, Cabe had to assume that he had spent most of his life misreading Grath. The younger drake was no innocent; he was definitely allied with Toma. The reasons behind that alliance would have been interesting to know, but now was hardly the time to pursue such questions.

Toma laughed, a harsh, raspy sound containing little humor. He turned partially toward the heir and pointed an accusing finger at the warlock. “You see how hisss mind works! You need to forget whatever supposed friendship he extended to you, my liege, and recall only hisss dissstaste for you whenever you were near hisss daughter.” The renegade’s eyes burned bright as he returned his attention to Cabe. “Hisss Majesty isss well aware of the circumstancesss that forced me to abandon a plan ssso well conceived and executed that I walked
among
you for years! An accidental encounter that could have been forgotten if not for your precocious ssson! No one would have had to come to harm or trouble. You would have all sssimply been made to forget. What your get did to my ssspell I do not know, but by meddling when he should not have, he forced me to defend my emperor.”

Now it was the sorcerer’s turn to laugh. “‘Defend my emperor’? Nothing would’ve happened to Kyl if you’d left. In another day, he would’ve simply met with Lord Blue and, I’ve no doubts about this, Kyl would have gained his support without trouble.” Cabe’s expression turned grim. “I wonder, too, how you planned to make us forget Ssarekai’s death on top of matters, Toma. He remembered you, didn’t he? Poor Ssarekai. Knowing him, he tried to stop you himself. You didn’t have to kill him, especially not the way you did, but that’s typical of you—”

“Toma!”
hissed Kyl. “You told me that Ssssrekai wasss alive but bessspelled!”

The duke’s taloned hands folded into fists. Cabe felt a mild tug on the powers around them. Toma was doing something, but it was too weak to be a spell of any danger.
What
then?

“An accident, my liege,” replied the sinister drake. “I acted without thinking, for a knife wasss at my throat. I assure you, I did not want the ssstable master’s death—”

“I’ve told you about Toma, Kyl,” interrupted Cabe. “Others tend to die around him.”

“I will have you
sssilent
!” roared Toma. This time, there was the definite buildup of power. Cabe quickly threw up a magical shield, all the while silently praying that he had not underestimated the intensity of the duke’s assault.

The area surrounding the warlock flared bright orange.

“Toma! Ssstop! I forbid you!”

The renegade did cease his attack, but was otherwise paying little attention to Kyl. He descended to the last step, eyes wide with hatred and lipless mouth open to reveal the sharp, predatory teeth. Cabe strengthened his shield again, but Toma unleashed no new spell.