Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,267

controlled it. The one had even admitted that they did not understand the faceless incarnations of their lords. If it was the whim of the masters to further test their potential successors, then Dru would not put it past them to seal off Nimth at any moment and see if those trapped within were intelligent enough to find another solution. He had a nagging suspicion that the founders had not been that different from the Vraad.

The sun gleamed bright, nearly blinding him with its abrupt appearance. Dru blinked and looked around. They had already crossed. He had been so entangled in his fears that he had missed the entire trek. It was a loss he could live with, the sorcerer decided.

Vraad were everywhere. It was the first thing Dru noticed. It was the first thing anyone would have noticed. The woods and the fields were filled with men and women who stood or sat or walked about. The one thing they shared in common was an aura of disbelief, disbelief that the sky was blue and the wind was only a gentle whisper. No one thought to build themselves vast fortresses—unless they had tried and failed already—and it seemed as if no one had even broken away and departed to find their own destiny. If anything, the Vraad were even more interested in the company of one another than they had back in Dru’s domicile. There, it had been forced; here, it was done out of an increasing insecurity. So used to being the masters of all they surveyed, the spellcaster’s people were having trouble coming to terms with a new and very defiant land.

The lone Tezerenee stood away from the rest, visibly nervous. He wore one of the face-concealing helms, but Gerrod had evidently recognized him, for he raised a hand and shouted out the other’s name. “Lochivan!”

“Gerrod?” The armored figure relaxed a bit, likely thinking that if one of his own could ride among the outsiders, then his life was not in danger.

Silesti stood nearby, close enough so that the Tezerenee knew he was there because of him and far enough away so that the dragon warrior knew better than to try to deal with him. The somber Vraad greeted Dru but said nothing more, emphasizing with his silence that he would listen but not take part. The hour belonged to Dru.

Dismounting, the master mage and Gerrod met with Lochivan.

“How is dear father?” the faceless warlock asked his brother, the sarcasm in his tone deep and biting.

Within the narrow slits of his helm, Lochivan’s eyes closed in weariness. “Insane with anger, or perhaps just insane. We were betrayed, Gerrod, betrayed by Rendel to a race of bird creatures!”

“How appropriate! Familial betrayals seem the norm with the clan of the dragon!”

Dru silenced his companion with a curt wave of one hand. “You said ‘bird creatures’? Manlike?”

“Very. They used Tezerenee tactics and Father believed it must be Rendel…”

“Well, you needn’t worry about punishing him for his crimes,” Gerrod broke in. “Rendel is very, very dead.”

Lochivan would have asked for details, but Dru did not have the patience. “We don’t have the time for this! Why did Barakas send you?”

The other Tezerenee looked uncomfortable again, but for different reasons now. “He did not… not exactly. He… he sent me to find out what was happening here and whether we faced annihilation from our own kind as well as the birds. I… when I saw what was happening, I dared to make myself known.” He gave Silesti a surreptitious glance. “He met with me and said that if I valued my existence, word would be sent to the true benefactor of the Vraad, meaning you, I suppose, who would decide my fate.”

Dru turned and met Silesti’s gaze. The other grimaced, already reading his decision. Dru avoided Gerrod altogether and studied Lochivan, trying to find the man, not the Tezerenee.

“What did you come here for?”

Lochivan revealed a brief smile. There had still been a few doubts. Not now. He knew this outsider would listen. The clan might still survive. “Help us. Help us to push back the avians and claim the land. You have to do it. This is your home, too. You need our skills; we need your numbers.”

“Is this your offer or your father’s?”

“Mine, of course.”

Gerrod snorted, but did not otherwise interrupt.

“Your offer,” Dru mused, taken by the Tezerenee persistence. “Your offer and any your father might have are rejected. We won’t save this world for you.”

Silesti was smiling now. Both