Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,373

to Faunon’s life or the fact that Lochivan saw how close the two captives were growing to one another. Perhaps it was even the personal interest he had in the situation. His tone was not that of an outsider looking in but rather someone who had a personal stake in the results and not merely because Reegan was his brother. Sharissa recalled his earlier words.

“And would you be willing to risk the patriarch’s ire, too? Does Faunon have something to fear from you?”

His hand briefly stroked her arm, causing her to tremble. The guard, of course, would be blind to all this, or else Lochivan would have never dared touch someone his father had chosen for the heir. “I am his—your—only hope.”

“What do you mean?”

His breathing had been gradually growing worse, more harsh and rasping. “It isss… is growing late. Good night, Sharissssa.”

“Lochivan?” She turned, but he was already walking away. Any thought that his departure was due to what he had hinted to her vanished as the sorceress saw him clutch his sides. His breathing had worsened even more in the few seconds since. Sharissa took a step toward him, wanting to help the Tezerenee lord despite her personal feelings.

The guard blocked her path. “Lord Lochivan desires privacy, my lady.”

“He’s ill!”

“A passing fever, Lady Sharissa.” The guard, a woman, stared through the young Zeree.

“Did he tell you that? I don’t recall him having the chance to do so.”

“No, my lady. I make my own judgments. I’ve seen similar of late. Besides, if the Lord Lochivan wanted aid, he would have requested it.” The Tezerenee sentry’s voice was mechanical; she had been trained well by her masters. If they chose not to speak of their ills, she would defend that decision to her utmost.

Lochivan was already lost in the darkness. Sharissa sighed at yet another example of clan obstinance and infuriation. If she lived among them for the rest of her days—a horrid thought that!—she would never understand them.

“It’s getting late, my lady. You should be rested for tomorrow,” the guard suggested pointedly.

She nodded, knowing that sleep would be something long in coming under the watchful eyes of Kivan Grath. Taking one last look at the leviathan that both invited and repelled her, Sharissa gave the warrior woman leave to lead her back to the rest of the camp.

The wind was picking up. To her ears, it began to sound like a mournful wail—possibly a lament for those foolish enough to believe they were going to be able to make the mountain’s secrets their own without a greater cost.

THE MORNING CAME both too soon and yet not soon enough. The light of day lessened some of the uneasiness that Sharissa felt, but, as she had expected, her night had been one of tossing and turning. From the looks of the Tezerenee, who had already preceded her in rising, she was not the only one who had slept troubled. A surliness had spread throughout the camp. Many of the Tezerenee were also scratching at their throats, chests, and limbs, a sign that the rash was still running rampant. The sorceress was thankful that what with her close involvement with the dragon clan she had not contracted whatever it was that affected them. How long would her luck last, however?

Her latest guard, yet another woman, brought her some food. Simple fare even by Tezerenee standards. Food was the least of the expedition’s interests this morning; most of the Tezerenee were visibly impatient to be about the task of invading the ancients’ lair and seeing just what it was they had been fighting for. By the time she was finished, the Tezerenee were already organizing themselves for the short climb and what they hoped would be a treasure trove of power and riches.

Riches. For all he sought greater and greater power, Barakas was not one to turn down any jewels and such that might have accumulated over the millennia.

A warrior arrived shortly after her meal. He knelt as if her rank actually meant anything to his masters and said, “Mistress, your presence is requested by our lord ruler. Now, if possible.”

If possible? she thought wryly. If Barakas was requesting her presence, he expected her to comply, not dawdle, and everyone knew that. Still, Sharissa decided she would set her own pace this time. Rising slowly, she asked the kneeling warrior, “Does he say what it is he wants me for? Is it urgent?”

“He indicated that you would be among those beside him when