Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III (82 page)

The Green Dragon straightened. “With your permission, my liege, I would like to conduct my own invessstigations into this terrible event. Between Massster Bedlam and myself, I think then that we shall have most probabilities covered.”

Kyl was clearly on the edge of collapse. He waved a dismissing hand. “Then by all meansss, go. If you can find the fiendsss resssponsible for this disssassster, then so much the better . . . but I want them brought before me.”

“Of course.”

“If I may,” said a voice from behind Cabe. “I would like to return to the Manor with the others. I can serve no true purpose here.”

The Bedlams turned to find Benjin Traske standing next to a small wall table. He had been so still and quiet that the warlock had not even noted his presence, an unnerving thing to Cabe. Still, it was not as if he had been consciously searching for the man.

The emperor-to-be gave his former teacher a cursory glance. Kyl now seemed only half-aware of what was around him. “If you mussst. I don’t care. I jussst want to go back
now.
”

Traske bowed, then joined his two former students.

Cabe hugged his wife goodbye. As they pulled one another close, he whispered in her ear. “Keep a very good eye on Kyl and wish me luck. This could be more complicated than we imagined.”

“What are you saying?” she whispered back. “Was Toma responsible for this, too?”

“I don’t think he’s any more responsible than Talak or Zuu is. I . . . I have some strange suspicions.” Cabe released her without explaining further. She looked him in the eye, then finally accepted his enigmatic response. The Lady Bedlam knew that her husband would not long hide things from her. If Cabe did not want to tell her now, it was only because he did not have much to support those suspicions.

Stepping away from her husband, Gwendolyn Bedlam joined the two drakes and the scholar. She waited just long enough to assure herself that they were prepared, then, with one last glance at Cabe, vanished with her charges.

The remaining drakes looked to Lord Green for guidance. He seemed to consider their position, finally commanding, “Rejoin the rest of the caravan. Someone will be there to take command before long.” Facing the warlock, he asked, “Friend Bedlam, do I have your permission to have sssomeone take charge of the caravan and return with it to the Manor?”

Cabe had not given that part of the situation any consideration, but he realized that they could not just abandon the drakes and humans in Penacles. “Yes, I think that would be fine.”

“You have your orders, then,” the Dragon King told the guards. “Be certain that you have a human essscort, however, and by all meansss, do not become involved in any altercation with our hosts here. Those who do and survive to tell about it will
not
be pleasssed that they did. I will guarantee that.”

“Perhaps we had best escort them as far as the arena, Your Majesty,” the warlock suggested. “With tensions the way they are at this moment, we don’t dare let any of your people wander around without guides.”

“Yes, that would be best.”

As it turned out, their return to the arena was uneventful. The Gryphon was still there, as Cabe had rightly assumed. He was talking to two warriors clad as champions of the chess game. Brow furrowing, the curious sorcerer stepped up his pace.

Noticing the mage’s return, the lionbird dismissed the two combatants. He acknowledged the Dragon King but focused his attention on Cabe. “I have been speaking with the two warriors who did battle when the assassination occurred. They told me one or two interesting things.”

“What would those be?” the drake lord asked before Cabe could speak.

Looking at both of them, the lionbird replied, “During their battle, at the moment just prior to the attack, both had difficulties keeping their grips on their weapons. The man who wore the armor of king, especially, claimed his weapon seemed to have a life of its own. He reports that it fairly flew out of his grip and headed straight for where the heir and Toos stood.”

“It fell several feet short, if I recall,” commented the Green Dragon.

“Yes, it did. The timing is too good, however. At the very least, the flying weapon was a decoy, I believe, designed to draw the attention of the victim and those around him. No one would be watching. The assassins would then strike . . . and die. Someone invested much sorcery to make this work, but they underestimated poor old Toos.” The Gryphon blinked. “How is the emperor-to-be doing?”

“He requested to be brought back to the Manor,” Cabe replied, judiciously avoiding mentioning the manner in which Kyl had put the request.

“No longer trusting Penacles and its ability to protect him, eh? I cannot blame him. My Lord Green, Cabe, I’ll tell you now that any agreements made between Toos and the drakes will be held to. I will see to that—” the lionbird sighed “—as the ruler of this realm.”

“That isss good to hear.”

The king of Penacles bristled, but it was not due to anything the Dragon King had said. “I will not let Toos die in vain. He wanted peace more than I did. I will do anything I have to to see that peace succeed.” He closed, then reopened his eyes, visibly trying to keep himself calm. “But you desire something. How may I help?”

Cabe quickly described the situation, emphasizing his need to hunt down Darkhorse before any more time had passed. As much as he tried not to think about it, the fear that it was already too late to save the shadow steed nagged at him. The warlock was aware of how many times in the past he had underestimated Darkhorse, for in truth the eternal was more powerful than he, but knowing the shadow steed and how willing he was to go charging into the fray, Cabe could not help but worry that each time Darkhorse vanished would be the last any would see of him. Darkhorse had the capability of living forever—as long as he was not destroyed.

The Gryphon wasted no time once his friend had explained. He quickly summoned one of the general’s aides and ordered him to lead the drakes to the caravan.

“I will go with them and arrange their departure,” suggested the Dragon King. “When I am through, with your permission, I will depart for my own realm. It may very well be that through my own methods, we shall overcome Toma’sss plotting yet.”

“You think that Toma did this?”

The drake’s eyes burned red. “I do.”

“I wouldn’t have expected him to use such methods. He is more likely to move behind the scenes.”

“Then, if it isss not him, I may also discover that.” The Green Dragon bowed to both Cabe and the Gryphon, then joined the draconian soldiers. “Rest assured, I, too, want this peace to succeed.”

As the drakes followed the aide, the monarch of Penacles rubbed his beak. “An odd farewell, but then, I’ve never completely understood drakes.”

“I think that they have the same problem with us.”

“Yesss. . . . Cabe, where will you search?”

The warlock kept his face neutral. It was too early to tell anyone of his suspicions. “I have a few places in mind. I knew where Darkhorse planned to be at certain times after he last departed the Manor. I’ll check them first.”

“He may be dead . . . like Toos.”

“Then I’ll find the one who did it.”

The Gryphon’s unsettling eyes seemed to twinkle. “You had best find him—or them—before I do if you hope to have anything left.” He toyed with his talons, extending them to their full lengths. “I do not intend to hold back this time.”

Recalling how hard it had been for the lionbird to “hold back” when he had been tracking the murderers of his firstborn son, Cabe shuddered. He hoped that it would not come to that. If the Gryphon lost control, there was no telling what he might do.

Evidently, the lord of Penacles was thinking much the same thing. He almost glared at the warlock, but managed to prevent himself. Instead, he simply turned a little away, his eyes shifting to nothing in particular, and said, “The sooner you leave, the more chance you have of saving him.”

Cabe did not need another hint. He bowed to the former and present ruler of the City of Knowledge, then vanished.

VALEA WAS WITH
Ursa and Aurim when her mother returned with Kyl and the others. The trio, along with a nervous Ssarekai, had finally abandoned the underground chamber, assuming that it might be some time before their parents returned. Aurim was the first to see the newcomers as they materialized in the front hall of the Manor.

“They’re back!” he pointed out to the others. “But Father’s not there and . . . and Kyl and Grath are!”

They hurried to meet the returning party, Valea with conflicting emotions. Fear stemming from the knowledge that
something
had happened in Penacles intertwined with relief that Kyl was safe. She started to greet him, but the expression on his handsome visage made her pause. It was both cruel and confused. Even Grath showed signs of anger, although he hid them much better than his brother. Scholar Traske revealed nothing.

“What is it? What happened in Penacles?” asked Aurim, his own problem not even a concern to him at this point. “Where’s Father?”

“Your father is all right,” Lady Bedlam replied quickly, so as to relieve some of her family’s fears. “He searches for Darkhorse, who’s missing.” Her face grew more somber. “You should all know . . . Toos the Regent was killed during an assassination attempt on Kyl.”

“Gods!” The young warlock shook his head.

Ssarekai swore an oath by the mythical Dragon of the Depths. Valea could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Her relief at finding Kyl safe gave way to her grief for the towering old soldier. He had been like the grandfather she had never had—and who would have wanted
Azran
anyway?—giving her presents and tolerating her questions about the war years.

In the midst of their grief, Kyl suddenly snapped, “If he had not died, it would have been
me
, inssstead!” He straightened his clothing and tried to look unruffled. “If you will excussse me, Lady Bedlam, I desssire greatly to return to my roomsss.”

“I quite understand, Kyl.”

The drake had not even waited for her response. Already turning, he snapped his fingers at Grath and his bodyguards. “Come with me!”

With the dragon heir in the lead, the drakes departed the still-stunned group. Valea found herself just a bit put out by Kyl’s attitude, although, admittedly, he had been through much today.

“How do you feel, Aurim?” Benjin Traske asked suddenly. His question first struck the novice sorceress as incongruous to the situation at hand, but then she recalled that the massive tutor had been in Penacles. He would know more about the events that had taken place there than the progress, or lack thereof, of the Bedlams’ attempts to free the minds of her brother and Ssarekai.

“The same,” her brother remarked halfheartedly. It was clear the news about dear Toos was far more important to the young Bedlam.

“I see.” Traske turned to Valea’s mother. “My lady, perhaps it might be good if I left your company for now. This is a matter for you and your family, and I can perhaps be of better use to Lord Kyl. I do not doubt that he is going through a conflict of his own.”

“I should go to him—” the enchantress began.

“You are suffering also, madam. Your family knew the regent better than I. I mourn his death, true, but not near as much as you. I think that you should explain things to the young here. I will do what I can for my former pupil.”

“Thank you. In truth,” responded Gwendolyn Bedlam, “he probably would listen to you more than he would either Cabe or myself.”

An uncharacteristic smile spread across the scholar’s bearded countenance. “It pleases me to hear you say so.” He performed a bow. “My lady . . .”

Ursa suddenly looked anxious. “Scholar, may I go with you? He isss my brother.”

He hesitated. “At this point, young lady, it might be better if you waited. Let me do what I can. Too many new voices might drive the emperor-to-be to further distress. He needs a guiding hand at the moment.”

Valea thought she knew the true reason why Benjin Traske did not want Ursa along. Ursa did not really get along with Kyl. One of Kyl’s greatest faults, subconscious or not, was that he saw the females of his race as inferior creatures. The courtesy he freely gave to Valea, the young drake only forcibly gave to his own sibling. It was a strange double standard that she would never understand. Valea had tried to question Kyl about it, but it was one subject he refused to discuss.

Her mother looked as if she wanted to speak in Ursa’s defense, but Valea’s friend acquiesced before she could do so. “You are right, of course, Scholar Trassske. Will you let me know how he is?”

“As you desire.” The tutor bowed again, this time taking his leave immediately after. Valea wondered if other households were as abrupt as hers. Throughout her life it had always seemed as if people were in a hurry. Everyone was always rushing someplace.

She, too, wanted to be there when the scholar told Ursa how Kyl was faring. It was purely for selfish motives, she knew, but she was aware that the kind of tragedy he had faced could change him permanently. Valea feared that those changes would put them farther apart from one another.

Her mind returned to poor Toos. She felt guilty that she should be so concerned about Kyl when the regent had died saving his life.
I wonder how the Gryphon is taking it? They were good, good friends. . . .

Lady Bedlam was doing her best to maintain control. She said, “Why don’t we go to the drawing room? I think it would be wise to be as comfortable as possible while we talk. This situation is hardly over. We are going to have to be wary for some time.”

They all understood what she was saying. Valea knew that where there had been one assassination attempt, there might be others.

The enchantress began to lead them away, then paused when she realized that there was still another member of the party. The drake Ssarekai had remained behind after the others had left. Valea liked him; he hardly seemed like a dragon at all.
How left out he must feel right now!

“Ssarekai? You are welcome to join us, you know. Don’t think that you aren’t family after all these years. You’ve gone farther than many toward making cooperation between our races work.”