Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III (66 page)

The king turned to Vergoth. “If you please, Baron?”

“Aye, Your Majesty.”

The impetuous noble was led silently off. The other guests whispered among themselves. Cabe read a variety of emotions among them. There were many who felt that the king had been more than generous, considering the importance of the affair, but there were also several who revealed sympathy for Jermaine. The warlock made a mental note of the names and faces of the most conspicuous of the latter just in case.

Once more, King Melicard turned to his special guest. “I apologize again, Lord Kyl, for this disastrous incident. Despite what
anyone
might imagine, such behavior will not be tolerated. The next one who shows such colors will not benefit from your good will.”

“I underssstand and appreciate your wordsss, Your Majesty.”

“He is healed, Melicard,” Erini informed her husband just then. She held Grath’s unblemished hand toward the king so that he could see for himself.

“Very good!” The king raised his arms to the assembled folk. “My friends! This incident is at an end! Please return to what you were doing! There is still food and drink!” Melicard nodded toward the emperor-to-be. “There is still a peace to plan.”

Slowly, the guests spread out again. Kyl and Grath joined the king and queen, who were on their way to thank Darkhorse for his timely assistance. Gwendolyn looked at Cabe. He nodded his understanding. The crimson-tressed enchantress followed after the monarchs. Conversations sprouted up elsewhere. People began to relax, albeit not too much. The drake and Talakian sentries returned to their assigned positions, but not without last glances toward one another.

For all practical purposes, the reception returned to normal, though every conversation now tended to revolve around what had happened. Drinking also slowed as many became fearful that a drop too much would cause them to say the wrong word to the young drake lord.

“That was very fortunate, friend Cabe.”

The warlock looked up into the half-concealed face of the Green Dragon. He had completely forgotten about the Dragon King. Now he wondered where the drake had been during the altercation. The emerald warrior had taken no part in the event, not even when the life of his lord had been in jeopardy.

“It could not have happened better than if we had planned it,” the drake went on. “The moment Melicard stepped forward to put an end to it, I realized that it would be better if I remained behind. Let the king of Talak take responsibility. The significance of that would not be lost on the other guests . . . and how
true
that turns out to be! Yesss, things have moved to cement the ties between our two races!”

“I’m just glad that no one was hurt.”

“Of course!” The Green Dragon looked slightly offended. “I would not have wanted that, either, but I had confidence in the outcome of the sssituation.”

Cabe was glad that one of them had been so confident. There were times when, despite the years he had known him, the warlock found the Dragon King an enigma. The mistake, he suspected, was trying to see the drake’s desires in terms of human ideals. There were similarities, but also significant differences.
Very
significant differences, at times.

The sorcerer took a sip from his goblet and let his eyes wander toward where Talak’s rulers and the future Dragon Emperor were speaking with one another. Kyl had been raised among humans, but while he more resembled one of Cabe’s kind than something akin to the Dragon King, he was still a drake . . . wasn’t he?

Was he
neither
? Kyl and the others had been very young hatchlings when the mad Dragon Emperor had fallen, young enough to still be influenced and molded to other ways. Knowing that the only way for them to survive—and for his own race to continue as a power equal to the rising humans—the Green Dragon had taken it upon himself to create this unusual situation.

It had not been an easy task. There had been many humans and even some drakes who had threatened the young heirs over the years. The avian Seekers had actually even kidnapped them once in an attempt to use them as leverage against the Ice Dragon. Yet, despite all the dangers, despite those who still sought to end the possibility of a new Dragon Emperor, Kyl had grown to adulthood. However, no one, not even Cabe, was certain as to what the young drake would be like once he assumed the throne. How much of his personality was influenced by his guardians and how much was influenced by his race’s history?

“The ceremony will top this visitation off grandly,” the Dragon King was saying. “It wasss an excellent suggestion, would you not say, friend Cabe?”

Only half aware of the conversation, the ebony-haired mage nodded. “It was.”

“It wasss Grath’s idea, you know. I only dissscovered that this day.”

“Grath’s—” Cabe stirred, but before he could say anything more, the Green Dragon had turned from him.

“Excuse me, Massster Bedlam, but my emperor desiresss my presence.”

“Grath’s idea?” whispered the spellcaster. It made sense the more he thought it through. The ceremony had not seemed like the sort of notion Kyl would have come up with on his own. He was intelligent, there was no denying that, but such a personal display was not generally his way. Grath . . . now that was more reasonable.

He caught sight of the younger drake, ever near Kyl’s side. Now and then, whenever the emperor-to-be looked hesitant, Grath would speak. In fact, Cabe now noted that Grath generally spoke
only
when necessary. He was like a shadow of his elder sibling.

Two emperors.
The drakes would be gaining two emperors, not one. Taking another drink, the sorcerer was glad that at least
one
of them could be trusted.

The Dragonrealm needed such an emperor if it was to have peace.

TWO DAYS LATER
, in the early hours of the day, the drake emperor-to-be journeyed to the necropolis in which were buried the kings and queens of Talak. He was accompanied by Cabe, Gwendolyn, Kyl, the Green Dragon, and, of course, the royal family. Darkhorse was not with them, having said that there were things to which he had to attend. A contingent of the royal guard had escorted the group to the tall, iron gates of the vast cemetery, but Melicard had ordered them to follow no further. The necropolis was a sacred place, a place of final peace. Here the king demanded that his ancestors and those others buried here received the quiet they deserved.

The day was as Erini had said it would be. A light mist lent a sense of tranquility to the morning, putting everyone into a contemplative state of mind. Even Kyl seemed changed. He was subdued, perhaps thinking about his own heritage. In some ways, his background was much like that of Melicard. Both their sires had been driven mad, then had died because of that madness.

Despite his differences with the young drake over the Bedlams’ daughter, the warlock could not help but feel some sorrow for Kyl . . . and Grath, for that matter. He also felt relief that they did not hold him responsible for the Dragon Emperor’s madness. After all, Cabe had only been defending himself.

They were led through the cemetery by the master groundsman, a surprisingly young if pale man with white hair. Cabe had expected an ancient cadaver clad in black, enveloping robes, but the groundsman, while indeed clad in dark, respectful clothing, would have belonged among the courtiers at the reception save for the short, eagle-headed staff he carried.

“He is new,” Queen Erini whispered to the Bedlams, “but his family has held the post for the past two centuries. Roe knows and reveres this place as much as anyone could. His own family rests nearby, as is only just, considering the care they have given this place.”

On the queen’s other side, Princess Lynnette stared at the surrounding mausoleums and tombs with childlike fascination. She had been here many times before. Melicard had insisted that she come to know the history of her family the moment she was old enough to understand. Lynnette had little fear of the necropolis, which had surprised Cabe until the petite princess had told him that she could never be fearful of a place where so many members of her family watched over her.

The tomb of the kings and queens of Talak was actually a series of interconnected mausoleums that had gradually spread across much of the necropolis. Cabe had actually expected a massive ziggurat, but the low, flat structure before him was by no means inferior to the pyramid of the spellcaster’s imagination. Elaborate gargoyles stood watch over the doorways, the latter of which were flanked by thick, marble pillars bearing the royal crest. Talak was unique in that its human rulers had risen more or less from one family line. The people of the mountain kingdom had been very loyal to their monarchs.

The master groundsman led them to the grand entrance of the structure, a more recent addition that enabled one, so the guide said, to find their way to any of the crypts, including the most ancient. As they approached, however, Cabe heard a slight rustling from all around them. He was suddenly alert, his powers already gathering for whatever stalked them.

A band of armed and hooded men appeared from within and around the entrance.

No magic that the warlock could detect had been used to camouflage them; these men were simply adept at concealing themselves. The warlock had never seen an armed force in a cemetery, at least not before now. They were not of the royal guard, for instead of the eggshell breast plates, these men wore chain mail under their cloaks. The sentries, a full dozen, resembled to Cabe avenging wraiths risen from the grave. They eyed the newcomers blankly, somehow radiating a sense of dread power. Cabe was surprised to sense a bit of power among them. So far, that power had not been used, but it was potent enough that he remained wary.

The master groundsman raised his staff. “Stand aside for King Melicard I, the Queen Erini, Princess Lynnette, and their most respected guests!”

The guards did not move despite the command, and it took the warlock little time to realize why. He doubted that drakes had ever sought entrance to the necropolis before, much less the royal crypts.

Roe waved his staff at the reluctant guardsmen. This time they obeyed, albeit casting distrustful glances toward the drakes in the party. The master groundsman waited until they had stepped aside, then turned to his charges.

“My liege, I must apologize for this behavior.”

It was Kyl who replied, “Pleassse, King Melicard! Assure him that I underssstand the hesssitation.”

“Again, that is most gracious of you, Lord Kyl,” Queen Erini said. She looked pointedly at Melicard, who nodded.

“Lead on, Roe,” the king commanded, putting an end to the incident.

The groundsman led them up the steps and to the doors, which opened up as the party reached them. A pair of gray sentries stood at attention behind the doors. Cabe found the situation rather ironic. Melicard had left his soldiers at the gate in respect to the dead, at least so he had indicated, but the monarch had failed to mention that his ancestors had protectors of their own, protectors with sharp weapons and secret magic.

If the party had expected a dank, frightful tomb, they were disappointed.
It’s almost as if we were walking through the libraries of Penacles!
was the warlock’s first thought. The corridor connecting the various crypts was clean and, if not well lit, at least sufficiently illuminated. Cabe wondered if the rest of the necropolis was so well preserved.

“This way,” announced the keeper, pausing to point to a corridor to the party’s left. They followed him down the new hall, passing empty spaces in the walls that were obviously reserved for the future. Cabe shuddered and saw Gwendolyn do the same. Neither Erini nor her daughter seemed bothered by the reminders of their mortality, perhaps because they had come here so often that the crypts no longer held any anxiety for them.

The corridor was short and ended in a stairway leading into the earth. Roe began to descend, with Melicard close behind. The Green Dragon also had no qualms about the descent, but Kyl and Grath both froze. Then, the emperor-to-be stiffened and literally forced himself down the steps. Grath hesitated only a bit longer. The queen and her daughter followed after them.

Bringing up the rear allowed the two spellcasters to take a moment to ready themselves. The enchantress squeezed Cabe’s hand, took a deep breath, and started down. Grimacing every step, he shadowed her, trying not to think about the sort of hole they were entering.

The remainder of the trip was thankfully short. The names and faces carved into the stone plaques became more recent until at last the party confronted the final resting places of Rennek IV and his wife, Queen Nara, who had died many years previous to her husband.

It should have been darker, for a single candle was all that was burning when they arrived, but the master groundsman’s staff proved to be a surprise—the head glowed brighter the darker the path became. Thus it was that the illumination available to them was almost as great as if they stood out in the open air.

Before Kyl was permitted to begin, the king had a ceremony of his own. One day each week he journeyed to this place, often with his family beside him. A wreath already hung over each of the stylized images of his parents, wreaths fairly fresh, since Melicard had been here four days prior. Nonetheless, the king removed the wreaths by hand, then reached into a sack he had been carrying. From it the monarch of Talak brought forth new wreaths, which he then placed where the previous pair had hung. Melicard then stepped back and knelt before the two plaques.

He spoke, but was so quiet that no one else could hear what it was he was saying. Cabe did notice the queen silently mouthing words, tears running down both cheeks. She, at least, knew what her husband was saying.

After several minutes, the king rose. There was a hint of moisture on both cheeks, which disconcerted the warlock a little since the one eye was only supposed to be a carving. The magic of elfwood, however, was a mystery to even the most learned. There was argument as to the extent of its ability to mimic life. Over the years, Cabe had come to the opinion that elfwood did
more
than mimic.