Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,324

ceiling allowed only minimal sunlight in. One torch provided the rest of the illumination, not that the gray, spartan chamber offered any visual attractions.

Three days! Where was her father? Where were the other Vraad? Barakas had at last broken the tenuous peace that had existed since the creation of the triumvirate. Was there an army even now surrounding the eastern sector of the Vraad city? If so, why could she not hear anything?

Memories of the impassioned voice of the dark eternal returned to her. Barakas Tezerenee had forced him to aid the clan’s cause. In what way? Her heart beat faster. Had Darkhorse turned the others away? Was her father dead? Did Barakas rule now?

Her questions, her very thoughts, began to fragment as the beating of her heart was echoed in her head. Sharissa put a hand to her temple and tried in vain to ease the pounding. Nothing helped. The sorceress did not even have power enough to rid herself of the headache. For that, too, she cursed the Lord Barakas Tezerenee.

When sleep at last claimed her again, she welcomed it with open arms.

“SHARISSA?”

It was a female voice that tore her from the bliss of true, unforced slumber, and at first she thought it was someone else. “Mother?”

“No, Sharissa, only Lady Alcia.”

Her eyes snapped open. The striking warrior queen sat beside her, a bowl of food in one hand. Behind the matriarch stood two female Tezerenee in full battle readiness. Whether they were daughters of the lady or merely clan sisters, Sharissa neither knew nor cared. Only one woman truly held importance in the clan of the dragon, and that was the patriarch’s bride. “He fears to face me again?”

Alcia smiled, a surprisingly soft expression for so commanding a visage. “He still sleeps. I thought it would be better if I spent some time with you first and tried to answer some of your questions.”

“Good! Where is my father? Where is this place? What do you think—”

Her visitor held up a warning hand. “Not yet. I will answer questions, but only after you have eaten, young one. And do not try to ask me questions while you eat, either. You will get nothing more from me until this bowl is empty. Do you understand?”

Mention of food and the relentless smell rising from the bowl forced Sharissa into surrender. She gratefully took the bowl and spoon from the Lady Tezerenee and started in on the contents. It was a stew of some sort, filled with meat and vegetables and seasoned to perfection.

Watching her eat, Lady Alcia looked almost like a doting mother. “I am so very glad you enjoy it. I made it myself, but I’ve rarely had someone from outside who could tell me if I’ve succeeded with it. Tezerenee make terrible critics. They will eat anything, even if only to prove they could live off moss, if necessary.”

The last brought a brief smile from Sharissa. She often forgot that the ruling mistress of the clan had been born an outsider and that much of the blood of the clan could be traced to her. “It is good. Thank you.”

“Not at all. Please keep eating. You will find it will strengthen you.”

It was true. Though this was not enough to satiate her, Sharissa at least felt well enough to move. Her headache had also receded, though enough of it remained to remind her of what she had experienced earlier.

“How long did I sleep this time?” she dared to ask after swallowing her latest mouthful.

“Only a few hours. It was just after dawn when you were disturbed the first time. The sun is now directly overhead. No more questions until you finish. I mean that.”

The remaining contents of the bowl vanished in quick fashion. Though she had gulped much of it down in order to ask some of the many questions that burned within her, Sharissa could not help feeling disappointed, too. She wanted more—at least another bowl.

“That is all.” Alcia took the bowl and spoon from her and put it aside. “You have to ease your hunger gradually, or else you are liable to make yourself sick. You can eat in a little while, after your stomach has settled again.”

Now that the time had come, Sharissa’s anger rekindled itself. She recalled again the patriarch’s temper and the voice of Darkhorse. The voice and the pain. “Where’s Darkhorse?”

“He’s been put away for now.” Lady Alcia’s tone reminded Sharissa of Lochivan’s friendly manner of speech. The young sorceress was suddenly reminded