Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,115

either seal or strip those chambers as soon as you can. I, myself, would prefer everything burned—with the fiend bound, gagged, and laid out on top of the pyre!”

“Gods! What did you find?”

“That is unimportant to us at the moment! The Princess Erini! Where is she?”

“I sent her to get some rest some time ago. We’ll need her if we’re to stand off the Dragon King’s oncoming host. By the way,” Melicard gave him a triumphant smile that somehow stretched across the mask, too, “the gate is ours. It was almost too simple—even more so than retaking the palace. They virtually threw themselves at us and begged for imprisonment rather than face the demons! You have quite a reputation now, Darkhorse.”

“One that I would gladly trade for another, I think. Is the princess guarded?”

“I believe so. She will be safe.”

Darkhorse shook his head. “I think I would prefer to look in—”

“Your majesty!” An officer clad in the same sort of uniform as Erini’s Captain Iston barged through the heavy doors. He had apparently been running all the way from wherever he had come. “I brought the news myself, in case you had questions!”

“Questions about what, man?” Melicard demanded.

Between gulps of air, the soldier replied, “The lookouts have identified the first signs of the drakes’ approach!”

“Already!” Melicard took a deep breath and looked at everyone, even Darkhorse. “Come. I want to see it for myself and I want each and every one of you to give me any observations about them as they draw nearer.”

Darkhorse hesitated, caught between his fear for his benefactress, the princess, and his concern for Talak. Talak won out, though the steed swore to himself that he would look in on Erini once he had seen whatever there was to see of Silver’s horrible army.

Out on one of the highest balconies of the palace, they gathered to watch. One of his aides handed the king a long tube, which Melicard put to his eye. Darkhorse did not have to ask the purpose of the device, which obviously gave the king a better view of the distant reaches. Sorcerers had created similar tools before, though this one had evidently been crafted by hand.

“I see them,” Melicard commented at last. “By my father, it looks to be a vast legion! I don’t think there’s been a drake host this great since perhaps the siege of Penacles!”

While others gazed on or waited for the opportunity, Darkhorse adjusted his own senses, allowing him a view that even the mechanical toys of the king could not match. Melicard was correct; this was a vast host—and at its head rode the Dragon King himself. Oddly, Silver seemed almost apprehensive. Bully and coward though the drake lord was, Darkhorse would have expected him to be in a far more triumphant mood. With such an army behind him and the city gate supposedly ready to welcome him in without a struggle, he should have been confident. Was it just the drake’s way, or did he know something?

Surveying the drake warriors who rode beside their master, Darkhorse finally discovered the horrible truth. Seated behind one warrior and looking distinctly distressed was none other than Mal Quorin.

“King Melicard!” The eternal returned his senses to normal.

“What now, friend Darkhorse? Do you see something?”

The shadow steed laughed. “Do I see something? Your majesty, was it your intention to perhaps draw the drakes unsuspectingly to your gates? Did you hope to fool them into thinking that the traitors still controlled the city?”

From the flushed look on Melicard’s face, he had intended something very close to that. Darkhorse was not surprised; it would have been a fairly logical maneuver.

The stallion dipped his head so that he was almost on a level with the mortal. “Your majesty, the plan will fail now! Mal Quorin rides with the drakes!”

“Impossible!” Melicard raised the tube to his eye again and tried to see what his ally had. Unfortunately, the device was not up to the task. He threw it to the floor in disgust, where the glass lens on one end cracked from the force. The king did not even notice. “I believe you, Darkhorse, even if I can’t see it for myself! How, though? What sort of trick?” He turned to one of his aides. “Alert the gate! Tell them that our plan is known!” To another, he added, “Go to our treacherous counselor’s cell! Find out from the guards posted there what happened and why I was not informed!”

“Go easy on the sentries,