Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,351

followed, if only because she knew that he would keep walking regardless of whether she followed. As long as he had her pack, Sharissa knew she would have to listen to him.

“The crossing is deadly; the elf your father took as a mate must have told you that.”

“She survived, didn’t she?”

“Others perished. Besides, do you think you can sail there all by yourself?”

“I have the use of my abilities back—no thanks to you and yours, Tezerenee.” He paused before a clear, smooth location that would leave her near the very middle of the camp. Coincidentally, several Tezerenee stood patrol nearby. “The elves, I understand, are not without their own measure of power. We may be mighty, but the elements must always be respected.”

Reaching out, she tore the pack from his hands. “When have the Vraad ever respected the elements? Have you so easily forgotten Nimth?”

“Hardly. I have learned more than you think, Sharissa. I respect this world. That will not keep me from doing my duty to the clan, though. The Dragon-realm must be brought under control. This idiocy of one race after another passing beyond must end. Already it seems to have claimed the Seekers. We are, if you recall, the founders’ last hope for a successor. We cannot disappoint their memory.”

While he had been talking, Sharissa had knelt down and opened the pack. Each of the food items she removed could have been conjured instead of carried, but Barakas wanted sorcery kept to a minimum. Unlike the millennia of excess that Nimth had suffered under the Vraad, this world was more grudging. The Tezerenee might be able to use the old world’s sorcery, but it still drained them physically. Even Sharissa had bodily limitations. Barakas claimed he wanted everyone at their best should an attack occur. It was also possible that the Seekers might not yet know that they were coming. An excessive use of magic might alert the avians and destroy any advantage of surprise the expedition had.

Sharissa doubted that these were the foremost reasons. She suspected that the patriarch wanted his men to take the aerie without the aid of sorcery; it would serve to bolster morale and add credence to the belief that an empire in this land was their true destiny.

“Listen to me!” Lochivan hissed as he came down on one knee next to Sharissa. His voice was very low and very anxious. “I am your friend whether you believe me or not. I am thinking of you!”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your noble thoughts concerning your clan. I’m tired, Lochivan. Go talk to one of your brothers or sisters or cousins or anyone, but stop talking to me.”

He rose, a dark shadow outlined by the last dim rays of the sunken sun. “You and that elf… two of a kind!”

“What about the elf?” Sharissa tried her best not to look too interested.

Lochivan took her interest as an opening. “I have to spend another fruitless evening trying to convince him of the futility of holding back any longer. With his companions dead and his people far away, he should be reasonable. Instead, he merely grits his teeth and stares into space.”

She barely heard most of what he said. “What have you done to him this time?”

The edge in her voice did not go unnoticed. “Only what must be done. We have been careful; damaged, he is no good to anyone. He knows this land better than we. His knowledge must be added to our own.”

Could she possibly—? The thought was so outrageous that she nearly discarded it immediately. Sharissa looked up at the dark figure of Lochivan. “I could speak to him if you would only let me.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

His disbelief was expected. Why would she help the Tezerenee? The sorceress hoped her answer would soothe his suspicions. “I want to save him from any more of the hospitality of Barakas—him and Darkhorse. Let me see what I can do. If I succeed, I expect to be able to spend a bit of time with Darkhorse, too.”

“You expect—”

She raised a hand. “Does not the patriarch say that those who serve shall be rewarded? Have I asked that much?”

Lochivan was silent for so long that Sharissa feared he had rejected her suggestion out of hand and was merely marveling at her gall. Then he laughed.

“I will ask for permission. It may amuse him as much as it does me.” He began to depart, then turned back and, in a