myself and I want each and every one of you to give me any observations about them as they draw nearer.”
Darkhorse hesitated, caught between his fear for his benefactress, the princess, and his concern for Talak. Talak won out, though the steed swore to himself that he would look in on Erini once he had seen whatever there was to see of Silver’s horrible army.
Out on one of the highest balconies of the palace, they gathered to watch. One of his aides handed the king a long tube, which Melicard put to his eye. Darkhorse did not have to ask the purpose of the device, which obviously gave the king a better view of the distant reaches. Sorcerers had created similar tools before, though this one had evidently been crafted by hand.
“I see them,” Melicard commented at last. “By my father, it looks to be a vast legion! I don’t think there’s been a drake host this great since perhaps the siege of Penacles!”
While others gazed on or waited for the opportunity, Darkhorse adjusted his own senses, allowing him a view that even the mechanical toys of the king could not match. Melicard was correct; this was a vast host-and at its head rode the Dragon King himself. Oddly, Silver seemed almost apprehensive. Bully and coward though the drake lord was, Darkhorse would have expected him to be in a far more triumphant mood. With such an army behind him and the city gate supposedly ready to welcome him in without a struggle, he should have been confident. Was it just the drake’s way, or did he know something?
Surveying the drake warriors who rode beside their master, Darkhorse finally discovered the horrible truth. Seated behind one warrior and looking distinctly distressed was none other than Mal Quorin.
“King Melicard!” The eternal returned his senses to normal.
“What now, friend Darkhorse? Do you see something?”
The shadow steed laughed. “Do I see something? Your majesty, was it your intention to perhaps draw the drakes unsuspectingly to your gates? Did you hope to fool them into thinking that the traitors still controlled the city?”
From the flushed look on Melicard’s face, he had intended something very close to that. Darkhorse was not surprised; it would have been a fairly logical maneuver.
The stallion dipped his head so that he was almost on a level with the mortal. “Your majesty, the plan will fail now! Mal Quorin rides with the drakes!”
“Impossible!” Melicard raised the tube to his eye again and tried to see what his ally had. Unfortunately, the device was not up to the task. He threw it to the floor in disgust, where the glass lens on one end cracked from the force. The king did not even notice. “I believe you, Darkhorse, even if I can’t see it for myself! How, though? What sort of trick?” He turned to one of his aides. “Alert the gate! Tell them that our plan is known!” To another, he added, “Go to our treacherous counselor’s cell! Find out from the guards posted there what happened and why I was not informed!”
“Go easy on the sentries, your highness,” Darkhorse commented, somewhat subdued. His mind had been racing and he suspected he knew the secret of Quorin’s escape. “They are probably confused and fearful. I think that I may have accidently been the catalyst for the devil’s escape.” He did not elaborate, intending that for a time when things were more peaceful-if such a rarity were ever to occur.
Melicard nodded, reading the eternal’s attitude and knowing Darkhorse was angry toward himself. Fear suddenly raged across the monarch’s odd features. Not fear for himself, but for his bride-to-be. “Erini! He might have done some something to her!”
That was doubtful, in Darkhorse’s opinion. He suspected now that the box was a last resort saved by Mal Quorin on the off-chance that he had to flee to his master. In opening up the container, the shadow steed had unwittingly unleashed the spell, which apparently had been specifically tied to the imprisoned advisor.
The king would not listen to those around him. If he had not been informed of Quorin’s escape, then it followed that he might also have not been informed of any new attempt to kill or kidnap Princess Erini. Darkhorse was on the verge of stating that he would investigate, having already desired to do so since first arriving, when a new voice broke through the chaos.
“What’s wrong? Darkhorse! Melicard! Are the drakes already at the gate?”
“Erini!” At the sight of his beloved, the king rushed to her and took her in his arms, ignoring the embarrassed looks on the face of his subordinates. The princess held him briefly, but seemed more interested in what was going on that would require everyone’s presence here. “I couldn’t sleep any more,” she commented as she broke away and walked toward the rail of the balcony. “I was worried that something might happen while I was resting.”
Melicard, a little at a loss due to the chaos his mind had been struggling with, joined her. “The drakes are out on the horizon. There. Darkhorse says that Quorin is with them.”
“Quorin? That’s terrible.” Erini stared northward, as if trying to see the drake army without the aid of any device or her own sorcery.
Darkhorse snorted. Terrible? He would have expected a far more virulent response from the princess, who probably hated Quorin more than anyone else here. Studying her closely, he noted her pale, almost unresponsive features. It was likely that her lackluster response was due in great part to a surge of fatalism concerning the coming day or even simply because she had only slept a short while. Unlike Melicard and his men, who were long used to staying awake for a day or more, she had never had the need to do so. Would that I could sleep! I would sleep for a year if such was possible!
But not until Shade has been dealt with, he reminded himself.
Shade. Darkhorse still wondered what purpose the warlock had had in setting him off on the endless and pointless chase. Shade had wanted him occupied. Why?
He realized belatedly that Melicard was speaking to him. “What was that, your majesty?”
“I asked what might be taking your friends so long? We have need of the Bedlams, Darkhorse. I would like to discuss our options with them before-hand-unless they feel they can arrive at the last moment and remove the threat with a wave of their hands.” The king’s voice was tinged with aggravation. His kingdom’s existence was hanging in the balance and two of his greatest allies were among the missing.
Darkhorse, too, began to wonder. Cabe had fallen prey to Shade’s machinations earlier. Had the warlock struck twice? “I will go seek them now! There is still time before the Silver Dragon can strike! Will you be safe?”
“I would never leave my kingdom defenseless against a threat like the drakes. I swore that Duke Toma would be the last of his kind to ever enter Talak with his head still attached to his body.”
The shadow steed chuckled. “Indeed. You also have your personal sorceress, too.” He indicated a somber Erini with a nod of his head. She looked at Darkhorse, smiled briefly, then returned to her dreamlike gazing. “Yes. I will return before long, King Melicard! You have my oath on that!”
“I would prefer your presence instead. We will await your return.”
Summoning a portal, Darkhorse leapt from the balcony and vanished into it. The transition was swift this time and he barely noticed his brief passage through the emptiness. In mere breaths, he was exiting the other side, his destination as near to the protective barrier as he could get. This time, he hoped for a simpler visit.
He sent a probe first, hoping that it would engage the attention of one of those he sought. With the Bedlams sorely needed elsewhere, Darkhorse wanted to keep his return as quiet as possible so as to not panic the others who lived here. Unfortunately, he received no response, which, when he thought about it, left him few other choices than to call out.
Trotting closer to where the Manor itself stood, Darkhorse shouted, “Bedlams! Cabe! It is I, Darkhorse! I have need of you!”
He heard confused shouts and the mutters of angry folk. Several anxious minutes went by before someone responded to his summons. It was not Cabe. It was an uncrested drake, one of the servitor caste, who finally dared to challenge him.
“What isss it? What do you ssseek?”
“What do I seek? Your master and mistress, drake! The warlock Cabe Bedlam and his mate, the Lady of the Amber!”
The drake seemed more interested in the ebony stallion than locating those he served. “I have never ssseen a beassst such as you!”
“I was here earlier! I am Darkhorse!”
“Darkhorssse!” The drake hissed in pleasure. “The massster has ssspoken of you! I wasss sorry that I misssed you! I am Ssarekai, one who trains and cares for riding drakes and sssteeds such as your magnificent
