Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III (68 page)

Then, the heir to the dragon throne looked her way.

The smile was there again, the smile that was just for her. Kyl did not pause, but the smile and the look in his eyes told Valea that he
would
see her before long.

Scholar Traske spoke true!
she thought, barely able to keep her pleasure hidden. Her mother, though, was talking to one of the servants about some household matter and therefore missed the brief struggle. Even had the Lady Bedlam noted the flush of pleasure spreading across her daughter’s countenance, it was probable that she would have assumed that it had to do with her own return.

None of that truly mattered now. The novice sorceress had confirmation. Kyl truly
did
care for her.

“IF YOU DO
not have need of me at thisss time, I would like to return to my kingdom immediately, my lord. There are duties I, too, must attend to.”

Grath nudged Kyl, whose attention had been on Cabe Bedlam’s fiery daughter. Pausing, the dragon heir gave the drake lord an understanding nod. “By all meansss, Lord Green! You of all here do not need to ssseek my permission!”

“It would be improper otherwise. Although the formalities must still be observed, you
are
my emperor. If there wasss any doubt, it was dispelled by your excellent behavior in Talak.”

Kyl basked in the compliment. “Thank you for sssaying ssso. When shall we be graced with your company again, Lord Green?”

“I shall return before it isss time to depart for Penacles, be assured of that. Asss to the exact day, that I cannot say.”

“There isss no need. Let me sssay before you go, that I am ever appreciative of your loyalty and guidance.”

The Dragon King bowed. “I do what I must, Your Majesty.”

Kyl and Grath watched as the Green Dragon departed, then continued on their way to their chambers, the two drake guards ever maintaining a respectful distance behind them. The heir turned to his brother. “Without Green’sss sssupport, none of thisss would have been possible, would you not sssay so, Grath?”

“It would have certainly been more difficult, but you would have overcome it, brother.”

“With your aid, perhapsss. I mussst again commend you for the wordsss and gift you sssuggested for the ceremony. They were perfect! Hisss Majesty King Melicard wasss overcome! I will have hisss sssupport now!”

“I merely made recommendations, Kyl. It was your execution of them that made it work.” Nevertheless, there was a smile on Grath’s visage.

“What would I do without you at my ssside, my brother?” The dragon heir put a companionable arm around his brother’s shoulders and smiled. “Talak wasss a sssuccess! Penaclesss will alssso be a triumph! With ssstrength from both drake and human elementsss, no one will quessstion my right to sssit upon my father’sss throne!”

“They would be foolish to do so now,” commented Grath. His face hardened. “But sssome will. There are always a few.”

“Asss long asss they are not ssstrong enough to caussse me any worry, Grath. You will sssee to that, will you not? I could trussst no one elssse ssso.”

The younger drake nodded thoughtfully. “As you wish, Kyl. Asss you wish.”

A formidable figure abruptly loomed before the drakes, but his presence brought slight smiles, not scowls, from Ssgayn and Faras. Grath immediately bowed in respect, and even Kyl could not resist a slight nod of his head. Benjin Traske had that effect on others, especially those who had been his pupils.

“I’m glad to see you back, lads,” rumbled the scholar. “I would have greeted you and the Lord and Lady Bedlam sooner, but I was ensconced in my chambers and did not know that you were back until a servant informed me.”

“There wasss no need, Ssscholar Trassske,” Kyl returned. “But it isss indeed kind of you to come to usss now. I am sssorry that you could not be with usss in Talak. Your fine inssstruction made all the difference, I mussst sssay.”

Traske chuckled. “You sound very much like the diplomatic monarch, Kyl, and I thank you. It pleases me to think that I might have had some small part in your success. A tutor always likes to see his pupils excel. When you have the opportunity, I would love to hear of your experiences.”

The thought of impressing his former tutor was enticing, but Kyl was a bit weary from the long trip. Besides, there were other things he needed to prepare for, not the least of them being a chance encounter with Valea. Of course, Kyl never left chance encounters to chance; he and Grath made them happen. The handsome drake had a suspicion of where the Bedlams’ daughter would be for the next hour or two, and he intended on stumbling on her at some point during that period.

As ever, it was Grath who stepped in to solve his dilemma. It was
always
Grath. Who else could it be? “I would be happy to relate our tale to you, Scholar Traske! It would give me the chance to ask you a few questions that I have about the mountain kingdom. I wasss amazed by it!” He waved his hands as he exclaimed the last. “Would that be satisfactory to you, Master Traske?”

“I would be delighted. You have time now?”

“I will make time. I’ve questions that cannot wait.”

“You should first perhaps make certain that your brother has no need of you,” Traske reminded Grath. “This is a crucial time for him. Your trip to Talak might be a thing of the past, but there is still Penacles to consider and the Dragon Kings afterward.”

Grath had always been the scholar’s most avid student. Kyl knew that the heavyset scholar enjoyed conversing with his former pupil. Grath also enjoyed the conversations, especially since Traske was a fount of information. Whenever there was a question that the younger drake could not answer—and those seemed to be becoming increasingly fewer—he would turn to the human who had taught them.

Had it been within his power, Kyl would have offered Benjin Traske a place in his empire, if only because between the human and his brother, he would have had the best counselors that any ruler could hope for.

Why
not
ask him at some point? The human had no plans once his role at the Manor was finished. His only pupils were Aurim and Valea, but Aurim was nearly finished with his lessons and Valea . . . well, perhaps that would be the final factor. Valea would need friends. There would be Ursa, but the witch would need more than one companion.

When Grath returned from this conversation with the human, Kyl would present the suggestion. His brother would know best whether they could trust Benjin Traske to be loyal to them when the time demanded it.

“By all meansss, he may go, Ssscholar Trassske! I have no need of him at thisss time. I have many things to attend to that will keep me busssy for the next few hoursss. If I have need of my brother, I know where to find him.”

“My gratitude, Kyl.” Benjin Traske bowed his farewell. Grath did the same, a barely perceptible nod following.

Left alone with Faras and Ssgayn, which was almost the same as being completely alone, Kyl contemplated his next move. He needed but a moment to refresh himself. It was true he was weary, but not weary enough to forget the importance of letting the exotic young witch know that he had not forgotten her. The glance he had been able to give her would keep her hoping, but it would be wise to follow with an actual meeting, even if it included her parents. All that was essential was to make her think that he had spent the entire visit to Talak thinking of her, which was, at least, half true. Valea was a prize he and Grath had worked long and hard to obtain, and Kyl knew that she was at last within his grasp.

She was both beautiful and a pleasure to be around, which only served to make each encounter that much easier for him, but those facts were secondary next to her greatest asset to the drake.

Valea was a Bedlam, a scion of the most powerful line of sorcerers. She was the daughter of Cabe Bedlam and the Lady of the Amber, an enchantress of vast might. The young witch had not yet displayed more than a fraction of the extraordinary power the line was known for, but everyone knew that the potential in her was possibly as great as it was in Aurim. If not, she could still pass the power of the Bedlam line on to her offspring.

His
offspring. It
was
possible for the two races to interbreed, although how that could be was a question not even Grath was able to answer. Kyl knew that it was true only because his brother had come across evidence—evidence which Master Bedlam seemed to know about, too.

He realized that he had not moved from the spot where he had been standing when Grath and the scholar had left. Precious time was being wasted. Turning to his two shadows, he hissed, “Well? What are you two waiting for? Come!”

The two draconian warriors, looking properly chastised, hurried to keep pace as the dragon heir moved on. He would have to dismiss them before he located Valea. There was nothing romantic about two scowling lizards, which, in his opinion, was what the duo resembled. Kyl was quite pleased with his more human looks, mingled as they were with his draconian origins to create a unique, provocative appearance. Grath was the only one who resembled him at all, but even his brother’s looks were more rough-hewn than his own.

She could not fail to want him. All that really stood in his way was her parents, but Grath had assured him that they would be no trouble whatsoever.

Kyl had been careful not to ask how his brother could be so certain. He simply had faith that loyal Grath would do what had to be done . . . whatever that might be.

THINGS WERE AT
last calming down, and none too soon as far as Cabe Bedlam was concerned. The caravan was being dismantled and the Manor itself appeared in fine order. Aurim had only had control of the Manor for a short period of time, but the warlock was aware of how many things could go wrong in just one day. It was a wonder that the place was not more chaotic. Sometimes he thought that the ancient edifice itself watched over those who lived in it, much the way the Dragonrealm seemed to watch over its people. Yet, the mind of the Dragonrealm, assuming it had one, was a rather perverse one, for it seemed to take fondness in thrusting Cabe and his friends into one danger after another whereas the Manor simply seemed protective.

The Green Dragon had given his apologies and had departed only minutes after returning with the caravan. Cabe understood; the Dragon King had neglected his own realm for much too long already. Gwen and their offspring—it was growing impossible to call them
children
—were in the gardens talking about Talak, Darkhorse also adding a word here or there, but mostly just enjoying the companionship of his mortal friends. Aurim and Valea loved visiting the mountain kingdom, if only because the spectacle of the Tybers looming in the background was breathtaking. They also loved the strangeness of the city, having lived much of their lives in the relative calm of the Manor.

Cabe had left them in order to organize some notes Aurim had given him. One of the few peculiar things his son had reported to him was a sudden increase in the number of hauntings by the memories of the Manor. At first, Aurim had simply ignored them, but when three sightings had occurred in the same day, all suffered by the younger Bedlam himself, he had started to make a list. Almost all of the hauntings had occurred in the last three days, a record eleven. One had appeared as recently as last night. All but two had involved Aurim; the others had been seen by Valea.

Most of the visions were familiar ones. The archaic wedding ceremony. The Seeker landing on the terrace overlooking the gardens. A closed book with the symbol of a tree on it . . . which had always puzzled Cabe since it did not exist in the old library. A being who resembled a wolfman, probably of a race that had preceded not only the Dragon Kings but the Seekers and the Quel as well. All of these had been registered by the master warlock, some of them many times. But Aurim had experienced
three
first sightings as well, images that, especially in one particular case, his father would not have expected.

A Quel had stalked through the halls. Aurim had never seen one, but knew of them from his father’s tales. The huge, armadillolike race existed only in the very southwest of the continent, their once mighty empire reduced to a few ruined, underground enclaves. Cabe had never known them to exist this far east, although it made sense to think that at one time their empire had covered much of the continent the way the drakes’ or the Seekers’ had.

The massive, armored figure had been swinging an ax at something, but what it was Aurim could not say. He only knew that the beastman had been frightened out of his wits, and the last image of the Quel had been that of the monstrosity falling on his back in terror.

Sometimes it was sobering to think of all that must have happened in this place. Cabe had little desire to know what had attacked the Quel as long as it no longer existed to threaten his own family.

The second image had been barely glimpsed, but in his scribbled notes Aurim had described what sounded to Cabe vaguely like a sword slicing through the air. What that was supposed to represent, the sorcerer did not know. It was different from other images in that his son had sworn that, being so nearby when it had materialized, he had actually
felt
a slight wind as the blade had moved. To Cabe’s recollection, no other ghostly memory had ever proven even the slightest bit tactile.

Even that paled in comparison to the final new vision. It was the first of its kind that any of them had ever come across, and its existence shattered every theory that the master warlock or his wife had ever devised concerning the ghostly images.

Aurim had seen his
father.

Cabe had joined the ghosts of the Manor.

The image was a very recent one. That, too, was unsettling. Aurim’s description of the short scene had registered in the elder Bedlam’s memory. It had taken place but a few days prior to their departure for Penacles. The occurrence had not been of any significant moment as far as he could see. It was merely Cabe using a knife to cut open a srevo, one of the lush fruits often found in the markets of Penacles and long a personal favorite of the sorcerer. Cabe was not one to use his power for something so simple as cutting up fruit. He considered such misuse both wasteful and criminal. That day, however, the black-haired mage wished that he had broken his cardinal rule.