Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,160

that would bring.

“You said nothing more to him than what you told me?”

“Nothing of importance, Father.” Nothing save his desperate words toward the end.

“Leave it alone, Barakas dear.”

The throaty voice belonged to perhaps the only member of the Tezerenee who could dare to speak back to the patriarch. She strode elegantly into the chamber that the clan had usurped from the city as sort of a second throne room. Clad in green scale, a living warrior queen, she stood nearly as tall as Lord Barakas himself. Her face was more striking than actually beautiful, but the grace with which she moved—or even breathed—was such that it added an entire dimension to her that most female Vraad lacked. The newcomer was desirable, but where Melenea had been a temptress, this woman was a queen.

The patriarch moved to take her hand. “Alcia.”

Around them, the rest of the Tezerenee, Gerrod foremost, knelt before her in obeisance. Most of the clan whispered, “Lady Alcia.”

Gerrod and a few select others simply said, “Mother.”

“The others are getting restless out there, Barakas. You might have another duel or dozen if you don’t let them enjoy themselves.”

“I gave them permission.”

“You have dragon riders perched on every roof nearby. They don’t draw the comfort from them that you do.” She smiled through perfect lips, assuring him that she, unlike the Vraad outside, did share his appreciation.

“It will be done.” Barakas pointed indifferently toward the nearest of his people and snapped his fingers. The appointed messenger rose, bowed to his lord and lady, and vanished. “Where have you been, Alcia? Were you looking for someone?”

“Hardly. I was accosted by that she-devil earlier, though, the one Reegan seems so fond of.” She stared pointedly at their eldest. Not all of the patriarch’s sons were hers, indiscretion a fact of life for beings with countless millennia on their hands, but the heir and Gerrod were. Rendel was also. It sometimes amazed Gerrod that he and Rendel were related to a creature like the burly Reegan.

The heir, titled so only because Barakas felt it necessary to appoint his eldest to such a role, looked sheepish. His lust for Melenea was an open secret with the Tezerenee, made more comical in some eyes by the fact that the temptress could, when she so desired, make him look like nothing more than a great pup. Alcia did not care for her people, especially her offspring, to be made fools of even if they themselves had had a part in the process.

“Have you been outside in the last hour?” Alcia asked her husband.

“No. There have been complications—minor ones—with the various aspects of the cross-over. I’ve been busy sorting them out.”

The Lady Tezerenee tensed. “Rendel! Is something wrong? Has he—?”

“Rendel is fine,” the patriarch lied. No one dared to contradict him, although Gerrod was sorely tempted. “He proceeds with his tasks. There’s nothing to worry about. You had something you wished to convey to me, however.”

“Yes. The city is being buffeted by powerful winds. The protective spells seem to be weakening.”

“It’s to be expected. Nimth is weakening. That’s why smooth progression of our work is so important. Gerrod!”

The hooded Tezerenee leaped to his feet and straightened as his father whirled on him. “I await your command.”

Barakas looked him over, as if seeking fault. Alcia, on the other hand, beamed proudly. Reegan and the rest might be her husband’s, but Rendel and Gerrod were her favorites. Unlike most of the clan, she had been born an outsider, and in those two sons, the matriarch saw her identity passed on.

“You seem to get along with Master Zeree fairly well,” the Lord Tezerenee commented. “I give you the task of visiting his domain and bringing him back here. It looks bad when one’s partner seems… reluctant to be present at the culmination of his work.”

“We don’t need him, Father!” growled Reegan.

Gerrod smiled from within the shadowy confines of his hood. When Reegan spoke, it was generally to put his foot in his mouth.

“We don’t need him!” the heir continued. “The outsider gave us everything of use! Let him take his place in the courtyard with the rest! Better yet, see that he gets left behind!”

Barakas stood silent for several moments. Then he walked over to his eldest and slapped him across his furred visage. It was not a gentle slap, Gerrod noted with some satisfaction. The heir struck the stone floor end first, causing a yard-long crack along the surface. Lady Alcia remained stone-faced throughout the incident.

“He was given the