The Ambassador shook his head helplessly. 'The Alphatian fleet is already on the way, each ship transporting every soldier it can bear. If your battle with the Masters does not end quickly, then we will move our armies in behind your allies and attack them from behind, taking them by surprise. No one was to know that we were secretly allied with the Masters.'
'I figured that out a long time ago,' Thelvyn told him. 'I knew from the first meeting of the Grand Alliance that you were a spy. From the very first, I fed you false information that led the Masters into a trap. So even though you never suspected it, you've been able to help us considerably.'
'Can you save my people?' the Alphatian asked eagerly, almost pleading.
'That should be simple enough.' Thelvyn bent his head around to look at Marthaen. 'Do you suppose we could find two or three competent young dragon sorcerers who could leave at once for Alphatia? The ambassador can accompany them and point out everyone who might benefit from knowing the Overlord's name. They in turn can convince the Alphatian army to help us rather than attack us.'
'Our people will fight alongside you once they hear of this, make no mistake,' Ambassador Serran insisted. 'Knowing now that he planned to deceive us, we have as much cause as anyone to hate the Overlord.'
The arrangements were made at once, although the Alphatian ambassador needed to stay long enough to attend the meeting of the Grand Alliance. He was concerned that the dragons should have as much support in fighting the Masters as the other nations could spare, and he wanted all the other delegates to know of Alphatia's complete devorion to the cause. Thelvyn was satisfied with the way things had turned out, but Alphatia's potential duplicity was one of the least of his concerns. Although he did not speak of it to anyone else, he was afraid the Overlord would order the deaths of the Alphatian spies rather than permit them to regain their free will.
Thelvyn took advantage of the final minutes before the meeting to have a quick word with his companions. They withdrew to one corner of the garden while the delegates continued to arrive.
'That was very reassuring,' he told the others. 'I've been concerned that our forces might be vulnerable to the will of the Overlord, the same problem we had during the invasion of the Highlands. Now we can be sure that anyone who knows the Overlord's secret name is protected from his influence. Besides that, we can apparently use his name to break his influence over his present slaves.'
'That's nice,' Solveig commented, obviously uncertain that the tactic would be as useful as it seemed. 'We could hire heralds to run up to their army shouting the Overlord's name, and that would be the end of the war.'
'I admit it won't be as simple as that,' Thelvyn said. 'But it will allow us to free any of the gemstone dragons we subdue rather than slay them. The Overlord permits them to believe they are willing servants so that they can help channel his powers, directing his vast armies of slaves far more efficiently than he could do alone. We can weaken him by taking apart his structure of command, whether we free the gemstone dragons or slay them.'
'At least now we have the absolute support of Alphatia,' Sir George remarked.
'I'll believe that when it happens,' Thelvyn said. 'The ambassador is making promises that are not his to make or keep, and the Alphatians might simply summon their armies back home. At least we won't have to worry about having them at our backs anymore.'
The meeting of the Alliance itself went smoothly. The delegates were not informed of the events of his nearly disastrous journey to the world of the Masters. They did know that a vast, powerful army was approaching from the wilderness of the northwest, and that the only thing standing between their enemies and their own lands was the dragons. The idea that dragons would be willing to fight in their defense was still new and strange to them. It helped to make them even more aware of their gratitude and their own obligations to the battle.
Thelvyn elected to speak to them candidly on the subject of their defense against the invasion. He doubted very much that the dragons would be able to defeat the army of the Masters on their own. At best, he could only hope to slow the advance of the enemy long enough for the armies of the Grand Alliance to be brought into the Highlands, hopefully meeting the Masters in a final battle at the defensive line of the Wendarian Mountains. The dragons would be at their best advantage in the mountains, and it would be easier for the others to hold the passes rather than attempt to fight such an enemy in the open. He also admitted to his suspicions that the Overlord himself would come to complete his conquest of their world, especially if his army began to falter.
The council concluded with unanimous pledges of support. Darokin already had an army on the way to the Highlands-indeed it was nearly there-as did Alfheim. And while there was no delegate from Rockhome present at this session, Korinn Bear Slayer had made arrangements for a force of dwarvish fighters to defend the Highlands during the siege. They should arrive soon. Thelvyn still had no idea of what he could expect of the vast fighting force that was already on the way from Alphatia, but at least he could be certain they wouldn't join the enemy. He knew that the Ethengar were a scattered, defeated people, living in exile in the hills of northern Rockhome; he could expect no help from that quarter. Of the others, he could only wait and see.
With such matters settled for the moment, Thelvyn was now eager to depart for the west and join his army of dragons. Time was now of the essence; he wanted to begin harassing the army of the Masters, making sudden strikes and retreating again at times and places of his own choosing. Somehow he had to slow the invading army and weaken it as much as possible, and a series of quick, relentless strikes would cripple the enemy most while sparing the strength and numbers of his own dragon warriors. His own job would be to seek out and defeat the leaders among the Masters, since he alone could dare to take on their most powerful fighters with little risk to himself.
The final problem that he had to face before leaving Braejr was dealing with his old companions. Solveig looked unhappy, but her place was there in Braejr with the people she had a duty to lead and protect. Perrantin was already on his way back to Traladara, riding in the saddle of a dragon courier. Sir George looked adamant even before the subject of his going along was discussed.
'We don't have a spare dragon you can ride,' Thelvyn told him, approaching the matter cautiously. 'All of our dragon saddles are being used by the couriers.'
'Well, I don't really need a saddle, do I?' the old knight retorted. 'Thanks to the Great One, who in his infinite wisdom has foreseen that you need my help, I can now fly anywhere I want on my own.'
'You can't be expected to fight with dragons,' Thelvyn insisted. 'I know you would have rather been born a dragon, but even the Great One could not grant such a gift.'
'I may not be a dragon, but I am dragon-kin, and all dragon-kin have been summoned to this battle in the name of the Dragonking,' Sir George countered. 'Don't argue with me, lad. I was there when all this started, on the night you were born, and by the beard of Barenthesis, I plan to stay with you until the end.'
Thelvyn rolled his eyes, then nodded reluctantly. 'Very well, then. Who am I to deny a worthy mandrake a chance to fly with dragons at least once? But if you have anything to pack, you must get it ready at once. And remember that anything you decide to take along, you will have to carry yourself.'
The last threat wasn't serious. Thelvyn knew full well that Sir George would need one of the dragons to carry his weapons for him. Although he had regained his power of flight, a drake simply didn't have the speed or the endurance of a dragon, and, even unencumbered, it would be all he could do to keep up. Thelvyn returned to the lair to collect his harness and weapons, which he now wore in addition to the Collar of the Dragons.
Although he had spent the day warning his companions and allies that the coming battle could well be the final one, its outcome likely to decide the fate of their world, he hadn't had time to think much about that fact himself until their flight into the west. While he was by necessity a leader, he was not a general. He wanted to enter every battle with a reasonable certainty of winning. He wanted to know beforehand that most of the advantages belonged to him, or that he had done everything he could to turn the odds in his favor. Now that simply was not the case. He would have to probe his way through what seemed to be an insurmountable problem, winning all the small battles he could and running away from the others.
If he worked at it very hard, if he avoided every mistake he could, and if he was very lucky, he might slowly but steadily turn the enemy's advantage to his own. But he remembered all that he had seen and learned in his journey into the world of the Overlord, and he knew that he was not likely to win this war. He was afraid the dragons would have to pay a fearful price even if they did win. He couldn't forget how their race had nearly been destroyed the last time they had fought the Masters. While he had been made Dragonking for the express purpose of defeating the enemies of his world, he still felt that he had a duty to defend the dragons from danger. He must not let them spend their lives recklessly to help him fight his own battles. He wished there was some way he could send them home and fight the war alone.
The first part of their journey was a fairly short flight to the western mountains of the Wendarian Range,
