he?” A familiar terror welled up in her, and she put one jeweled hand to her throat.
“Calm yourself, my lady,” Teryl responded, his hand fluttering on her arm. “I was speaking of Lord Maldrake, your second husband.” The mage stood and went to a sideboard. There he poured a little wine and mixed it with the contents of a stoppered vial he produced from his voluminous robes. He handed the glass to Yvaughan and said, “Here, my lady. A glass of claret before dinner will soothe your nerves. Drink.”
She looked at the glass wildly, then glanced up at the wizard’s smiling face. She trusted Teryl. He was her only friend at the Castle of the Three Suns… besides my husband, of course, she dutifully added. Whatever Teryl has put in the glass is for my betterment. She downed the wine with one swallow and handed the glass back. Teryl replaced it on the sideboard, taking care to wipe it dry.
“You’re right, of course, Teryl,” Yvaughan said a moment later, her tongue feeling thick. “How foolish of me to mix up my first and second husbands.” She turned at the sound of footsteps. “Ah, I believe my love is here now.” She gazed toward the door as Lord Maldrake strode forward, her face ht with an uneasy smile.
“Yvaughan!” Maldrake cried, placing his hands on her shoulders and kissing her cheek. “And how are you today?” he asked her, glancing at Teryl Auroch who stood nearby. The mage shook his head slightly.
“Maldrake, I’m fine!” Yvaughan cried. “Teryl’sjust being a worrywart. Come, sit beside me and tell me about your day.”
“With pleasure, love,” the young lord said. “By the way, Brisbois is joining us. I hope that won’t be a problem.” He sat down and mussed Yvaughan’s hair. Teryl sat down on a nearby chair and fidgeted.
“Certainly not!” She returned the kiss shyly, then rose slowly with her husband’s help. “Let me check with the kitchen, and I’ll have an extra place s-set,” Yvaughan slurred.
“Let the servants do it,” Maldrake said, holding Yvaughan’s hand.
“I’m up already,” she replied, stroking her pregnant abdomen. “It would be more work to call a servant than to do it myself.” Slowly she made her way across the cluttered room toward the hall that led to their private kitchens.
As she walked from the hah, she heard, faintly in the background, her husband and Teryl talking about her. Their apparent concern for her health made her face flush. Everything was going as planned, Teryl was saying. That can only mean the baby, thought Yvaughan. Maldrake responded with a hearty laugh-the proud and happy cry of a man expecting his first child.
As she pushed open the kitchen door, a tiny fear rose inside her. She touched her throat again. “I must learn to be less afraid.”
Verdilith drank deeply from the underground stream in his cavern. The icy water sluiced through his spearlike teeth and dripped, glistening, from his cruel lips. He swallowed, and the man-sized gulp of water rolled down his long, slender neck. Seventeen dorsal plates, each the size of a small shield, shifted gently as the gulp passed by. He sighed. Golden-green scales rippled in pleasure from the peak of his massive shoulders to the tip of his long, supple tail. He stretched, spreading leathery wings nearly to the ceding, one hundred feet above. His eyes glowed with orange fire, scanning the treasure-strewn lair around him. He rumbled to himself, the shaft of air in his throat whistling heavily as he spoke, “I’ve had enough of gold and silver-for the moment. What I want is flesh and blood.”
The pangs of hunger had started. Verdilith rolled to one side, his mountainous bulk settling against a cluster of stalagmites. He scratched the coppery scales of his belly, his vision clouding with images of something fresh and fat and swollen. He chopped his jaws in anticipation, then rolled to his feet and stomped off toward the gold and silver hoard where he nested.
Above his bed, the vault of the cave was higher, rising fully three hundred feet. The cave was twice that distance wide. Despite occasional dampness from the spring rains, the ground generally remained dry and cool and comfortable. The underground stream provided fresh water, and air circulated in from a number of tiny, almost invisible cracks in the cavern’s walls. Reaching the gold pile, Verdilith rolled onto his back and gazed up at the ceiling. The magical crystals he had imbedded in the vault still glowed, filling the cavern with their shimmering light. Ruby, emerald, and sapphire rays of light leaped furtively from crystal to crystal, casting a twinkling light over the treasure horde. Verdilith was glad, for he couldn’t bear absolute darkness in his lair.
A thunderous groan echoed through the cavern, and Verdilith stroked his rumbling stomach. The bloodlust time was upon him. It filled his eyes with a crimson haze and made his enormous heart pound heavily. The desire for blood would only deepen in the coming months. Perhaps he should sate his hunger a bit now so that he could give his undivided attention to furthering his plans. Yes, his thoughts whispered, draw blood first. Then think of Penhaligon and what the future holds.
The dragon shifted his great bulk, his hind leg kicking aside an offending crown. Life is good, he thought complacently, though there is much yet to be done. What should we do to slake our thirst for blood? Attack the castle itself? No, too many paltry humans live there. We would be overcome by their hordes. The orcs east of here? No, we may need them intact for later. The little village south of here? Ah, now there’s a thought! Or perhaps one of the logging camps nearby…?
The dragon smiled and his eyes clouded over with dreams of blood and heat and rending flesh. Rising to his feet, he leaped once into the air. With a sudden roar of wind through the cracked walls, the massive dragon disappeared, and in his place floated a tiny bat. His eyes glowed red with hunger, and his leathery wings bore him to the ceiling. Squeaking once, the bat flapped into a hole in the cave vault. The papery noise of his wings filled the narrow tunnel beyond as he flapped and crawled toward the surface. Within moments, the tiny bat emerged from the hole into the chill air of late afternoon.
Instantly Verdilith reverted to his true form. He had learned early on to shapechange as fast as possible, for once a sharp-eyed sparrow hawk had almost eaten him before he transformed. He surveyed the snow-covered knoll above his lair and the surrounding jagged hills. No tracks showed in the snow, and nothing moved upon the hills.
The great green sat back on his haunches and scented the air, his tongue flicking in and out, tasting the winter afternoon. Horseflesh! And a scent of pine! With a single bound he leaped into the air. His great leathery wings beat once, twice, a third time before they finally lifted the weight of the dragon. Powerful wing strokes hurtled him into the silver sky, over the hilltops and the twisted copses of the ravines. Rising to a comfortable height, Verdilith turned and soared southward, following the smell of horseflesh. Below him, the treacherous hills of the Wulfholdes whirled past. A small herd of deer froze as the dragon’s shadow flashed overhead, then scattered into a deep patch of woods nearby. Verdilith dived after them, but pulled up short. Why hunt deer one by one in the forest? he asked himself. I can eat horses by the tens in their corral. The sweet scent of horseflesh grew stronger on the wind, intoxicating his already excited senses.
Verdilith screamed his hunger. Blood would soon be his! His heart pounded in time with the surge of his awesome wings. The scent filled his scaled nostrils. Verdilith extended his wings and soared silently, outracing the clouds.
In time, the dragon’s eyes glazed over. The setting sun cast a red pall over the trees below. His excitement grew. His breath became fast and shallow. His wings turned effortlessly, dropping him low above the ground. A hideous anticipation pounded in his heart. The desire to rend flesh flooded through him.
It had been so long since he had eaten.
Then, below, the dragon spied a small loggers’ camp. Only one tiny light glimmered inside the wooden structure. Out back, in a large corral, horses stood, champing nervously. The dragon circled once, then screamed again and plunged earthward.
The terrified horses below neighed shrilly in return. Verdilith descended on them. He swooped low, his talons clamping around three of the beasts. He rose into the air, his laden claws smashing into the side of the stable. The wood splintered, and the dragon dropped the broken beasts at the base of the bam.
Verdilith rose on the wind, wheeling around in the blood-red sky. Again he fell on the corral. The horses reared and kicked, trying to avoid the sudden claws that raked their backs, the wicked teeth that snapped mercilessly around them. They galloped along the fence, their eyes white with fear. Foam hung from their gaping muzzles. The horses’ screams rent the air, but no one came to save them.
The dragon ripped great chunks of flesh from the beasts, not heeding the few hooves and teeth that found
