Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

“We will speak later, my lady. Remember what I have said. If you want something, you must often wait. It may be a long time before you-Aurim! Do you look for us?”

Valea’s brother stopped where he was. She noted that he looked slightly annoyed, which meant that he had not likely heard any of what she and the tutor had been discussing. The novice sorceress silently thanked Master Traske for his discretion.

“N-not you, teacher. Mother wishes to speak with Valea, though.”

The girl frowned. She knew what her mother wanted to talk to her about.

“Best that you go, then, my lady.” The huge man casually squeezed his charge’s shoulder as he guided her toward her brother. “If there is one authority we must always be on the best of terms with, it is your mother.”

Aurim attempted a smile, evidently thinking that the scholar was making a joke. While they were rare, Benjin Traske did occasionally make the wry comment . . . most of them concerning the diligence of his students.

Unenthusiastic about the prospect of facing her mother but lacking any escape, Valea joined her golden- haired brother. Aurim made to go, but the young sorceress took the time to bid farewell to Master Traske. “If you will excuse me, teacher.” She curtsied. “My thanks for your time.”

He bowed in turn, always an extraordinary feat considering the scholar’s girth. “I merely do my duty.”

“No more stalling,” her brother whispered to her. “Mother’s waiting!”

Valea knew that she had been fortunate that it was Aurim who had come for her and not their mother. The elder Lady Bedlam had a way of often divining the truth that at times unnerved her children. Fortunately, Aurim was not so observant.

Steeling herself, the young witch followed her brother. She did not look forward to the talk, knowing it would revolve around both her behavior today and her feelings in general for princely Kyl. Still, she was not completely disheartened. The unexpected support of Master Benjin Traske gave her strength. More and more his words made sense. She would listen to her mother and try her best to pretend compliance. The time would come. Master Traske had said as much, and she had rarely known him to be wrong.

She imagined herself as Kyl’s bride, his empress, and . . . the mother of his offspring. Valea knew the stories; she knew that drakes and her kind had married before. There had been children. It was all possible.

If he loved her, Valea was confident that somehow Kyl would overcome all the obstacles to their love. Somehow, despite drakes and parents, they would be together.

V

The first day of the journey passed with so little difficulty that Cabe could only marvel. Kyl was actually gracious and willing to follow the suggestions of the others. It took the warlock some time to realize that the change in attitude stemmed from the heir’s hidden anxiety. Kyl knew that he had to make the proper impression on both the humans and his own people or else he would never sit upon the throne of his sire. Now, en route to the first of a series of very crucial confrontations, the pressure was finally affecting the dragon heir.

For once, Cabe found himself sympathizing with the young drake.

The caravan came to a halt in a lightly wooded region, the northernmost traces of the immense Dagora Forest. Under the guidance of the Green Dragon himself, camp was set up. The Dragon King was doing his best to see to it that his emperor-to-be’s journey was a quiet, smooth one. The warlock, however, could not help but frown as he watched the master of Dagora go out of his way to see to it that every comfort was afforded the heir. A drake lord as old and as commanding as the Green Dragon should not have had to belittle himself so. It amazed Cabe to watch. What it was in Kyl that brought out such a manner from the otherwise regal Dragon King confounded him.

Protocol demanded that he eat with the Dragon King, Kyl, and Grath. A wide tent of human manufacture had been set up for the would-be emperor, and it was here that Kyl chose to eat, the better for privacy. The young drake had eschewed bringing along chairs, instead adopting a custom from one of the western kingdoms. Seated on pillows before a low table, Cabe was uncomfortable, but as none of his reptilian companions appeared to be having any difficulty, he remained quiet.

Fortunately, the meal was short and the conversation centered mostly on the kingdom of Talak itself, including such things as trade goods, history, and people. Kyl seemed to drink in every drop of information. Grath, too, asked questions, generally picking subjects his brother had not yet mentioned. A few times, the warlock either hesitated or admitted outright that he, in all fairness to King Melicard, could not provide the drakes with an answer. The dragon heir accepted this, although Grath appeared disappointed.

At meal’s end, Kyl took a last sip from his goblet, then said, “The food hasss been excellent and the conversssation very informative. I think, though, I would like to take sssome time to digessst both further. I thank both you, my Lord Green, and you, Massster Bedlam, once again for your invaluable ssservice.”

Warlock and Dragon King rose. Cabe winced as he stretched his legs at last. Next to him, the drake lord executed a perfect bow. “Should Your Majesty have need of my humble self again before retiring, pleassse do not hesitate to call for me.”

Cabe simply nodded in respect. Kyl nodded back, again not at all perturbed by his guardian’s attitude. Grath rose to guide the two to the tent opening. He bowed respectfully to both departing guests. “My gratitude also goes out to the two of you.”

Outside, Kyl’s two guards straightened. The Green Dragon and Cabe walked past the watchful pair in silence, each mulling over the dinner conversation. It was not until they were well away from Kyl’s tent that the Dragon King spoke.

“I am encouraged, friend Cabe. Much encouraged. Hisss Majesty asks pointed and intelligent questionsss.”

Many of which seemed to originate from Grath, Cabe wanted to add. He was thankful that Kyl’s younger brother was along. Where the heir faltered, surely Grath would save the situation. “You think the audience with Melicard will be successful, then, my lord?”

“It mussst be! There is no room for failure! You and I both know that!”

Once more, they continued on in silence. It was not until they were among the other members of the caravan that the silence was broken . . . or perhaps altered was the better word.

The camp looked no different, yet Cabe suddenly felt as if someone had invaded it. He paused and looked around.

“Is something amisss?” the Dragon King asked quietly.

“I don’t . . . maybe . . .”

They were in the trees around the camp.

“Seekers. . . .” he whispered to his scaled companion.

“What? Impossi-” The drake lord broke off as he, too, suddenly sensed the presence of many avian minds. One hand clenched tight.

“No!” Cabe hissed, fearing that the Dragon King would try to unleash a spell. He did not know what the birdlike Seekers wanted, but if it was to attack, they would have done so by now. Either that, or they would have fled, which would have made more sense based on the numbers that the warlock perceived. There were several of the humanoid birdfolk, but not nearly enough to endanger the caravan.

“What do they want?”

“I don’t know. . . .”

Around them, several of the human and drake workers stared at the two powerful figures, most, no doubt, wondering just why it was their lords stood frozen in place. Cabe was thankful that none of them had been close enough to hear his discovery of the avian observers.

It was too dark to see the arrogant forms hidden among the treetops, but now and then the patient sorcerer heard the quiet rustle of wings. The Seekers seemed satisfied with observing. Cabe could feel no desire to