Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

go wrong at this point. The meeting with Lord Blue, the Dragon Kings’ chosen representative, was a foregone conclusion what with Grath to coach Kyl through it. Soon, Kyl would renounce his name and take on the mantle of Gold, Dragon Emperor.

“I do not like thisss.” The Green Dragon was more sibilant than usual, a definite sign of excessive worry as far as Grath was concerned. “The Bedlams are gone and the Gryphon with them. The demon steed is also missing. Our defenses are weakened.”

The Bedlams had sent word just prior to the reception that they would be unable to attend. The cunning spell attached to Aurim’s memory had so far defeated their best efforts. Toma had planned well when he had devised that one. Grath could not help but admire the spell’s obvious complexity. How many were there who could so cleverly befuddle his guardians?

“Things will be all right, my lord,” he answered dutifully. “We are in Penacles, after all. There is no better guarded kingdom than this one save Talak, and yet there we faced much more resentment. Here, people already accept us . . . to a point, of course.” Grath hoped to find reasons to make future excursions to the City of Knowledge before necessity demanded that it be returned to drake control. Since the latter would not take place for some time, he did not feel too concerned.

His eyes suddenly focused on a fantastic figure entering the reception. Here was one whom Kyl would find most appealing, he thought. And so do I, the young drake was forced to admit.

There was no one in the Dragonrealm like the Lady Troia, mate of the Gryphon. She had met him across the sea, at the beginning of the revolt against the Aramite Empire. She was lithe and graceful, yet still a predator, her tawny color in keeping with her feline appearance. When she smiled-a bit uncertainly, he thought-her slightly pointed teeth reminded him of a female drake. She also had talons that were supposed to be every bit as deadly as those of Grath’s race.

If not for his desire for Valea, Grath would have been tempted to see what a flirtation with the cat-woman would have revealed. Likely his dismemberment, if what they said about her love for her mate was true. Still, he doubted that knowing that would stop his brother from trying. Kyl had to flirt. It was one trait of his that, while frequently useful, Grath was as yet unable to completely control.

“I would have thought that the Lady Troia would have remained home with her son sssince her mate hasss been called away,” muttered the Green Dragon. “She should not be here.”

“Why?”

“She isss also with child,” responded the Dragon King, as if that answered everything. Grath tried to puzzle it out, failed, then decided that it was not worth his time.

“Perhaps she has a message from the Gryphon. Perhaps the Bedlams and he are preparing to return to Penacles.”

Lord Green looked at him, but said nothing. Grath decided there and then that he would mention to Kyl that perhaps it would be an excellent notion to allow the Dragon King to return to his own domain. The drake had worked hard to bring them to this point, but it was clear that he needed some rest.

Without warning, the Dragon King started toward the Gryphon’s mate. After a moment, Grath followed, in great part because he wanted to see Lady Troia up close.

The cat-woman noticed them coming and, unlike most of those attending, gave them an open smile. This did not surprise Grath, who was aware that one of the Gryphon’s closest comrades during the war against the Aramite Empire had been the very scion of the Blue Dragon, a great drake warrior called Morgis. Through Morgis, Troia had perhaps become more used to the drake race than anyone else at the reception.

“It’s . . . Lord Green . . . is that the way to say it? I always forget.”

The Dragon King executed a slight bow. “That is one of the accepted forms of address.”

“Would you prefer ‘Your Majesty’?”

“With my emperor present, it does not strike me as proper. ‘Lord Green’ isss perfectly fine.”

She looked him over. “If you were of a more bluish tint, I’d swear that you were Morgis.”

“We do tend to look much alike to your kind.”

Another very feline smile spread across her fascinating face. Grath realized he had not yet bowed and quickly did so. Seeing her hand near enough, he followed his impulse and took it in his own. To the Lady Troia’s flattered amusement, he kissed it.

“Not all of you look the same. You’ve become a daring one, Grath. Do you stalk the same prey as your brother?”

It took him a moment to decipher her comment. When he had done so, the young drake smiled. “Kyl does well enough for both of us, my lady.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“What brings you to the reception?” the Dragon King asked without warning. “Are your mate and the Bedlams returning?”

Her smile changed to a frown. “I only wish. No, they’re still hoping to solve the riddle. The Gryphon contacted me long enough to let me know that they would not be returning this evening. Cabe and Gwendolyn don’t plan to cease their efforts until their son and the drake with him are free of this Duke Toma’s spell.” Her light, short fur began to bristle. “He sounds as foul a creature as the Senior Keeper D’Rak!”

Grath had no idea who this D’Rak had been save that by his name he had been an Aramite, a wolf raider. Lord Green, however, nodded his agreement. Grath made a mental note to ask the Dragon King about D’Rak and wolf raiders in general. Their empire might be in ruins, but a number of their ships still prowled the seas as pirates. Desperate men like that might be willing to bargain their services to a great power.

“I decided that with everyone else gone, it would be a good idea for me to be here. If there’s trouble, I’ll be around to lend a claw.” She unsheathed a handful of deadly talons impressive even by drake standards.

“But you have children of your own to be concerned about,” insisted Lord Green. “Both your son and the one within you.”

The young drake could not detect any swelling. Of course the gown prevented a better examination.

Troia laughed, an enchanting, throaty sound. “Your concern is appreciated, Lord Green, but I come from a sturdy people. I fought in battle only days before our first child, Demion, was born. It was not by choice, but it gives you an idea of how resilient my folk are. The way I am now will by no means slow me, I can promise you that! There is almost a full month to go. As for our other son, I have good people watching him.” She glanced past him at where the regent and Kyl were standing. “Would you excuse me, Lord Green? I want to ask a favor of Toos before I forget.”

“Certainly, my lady.”

They both bowed as the cat-woman moved on. Grath watched her walk with renewed appreciation for females, then recalled himself. It would not do to be so coarse among present company. What he did reflected as much on his brother as what Kyl himself did. Still, he was amazed that she could be so far along. What he could see did not in the least remind him of any of the pregnant human females he had seen.

His gaze drifted to Lord Green, who appeared rather preoccupied. The elder drake stared as the Lady Troia joined Kyl and Toos. For some reason, Grath doubted the Dragon King’s interest centered around the cat- woman.

“Grath, have you ssseen your tutor lately?”

The question caught the young drake by surprise, but he quickly recovered. “Scholar Trassske is not one for receptions, my lord. He felt it would be best if he retired to his chambers. I believe he isss studying the progress of the school of sorcery. The Gryphon planned to take him to visit it the day after tomorrow.”

“He may have changed his mind, but feels uncertain about arriving so late. Go and see whether that isss the case.”

“But-”

“Do it, Grath.” The Green Dragon walked toward Kyl and his companions, preventing any further protest the younger drake would have made.

Grath hissed quietly, incensed by the Green Dragon’s tone and attitude. He was not a servitor to be talked to so. He was the brother of the new Dragon Emperor, not to mention that emperor’s counselor. The Dragon King should be treating him with deference, not indifference.