Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,398

be lines on this face soon enough. This world likes to kill those who will not bow to it.”

The armored monarch cocked his head to one side as he studied Gerrod. Then, smiling a mocking smile, he shook his head and turned his attention back to Sharissa. “I have something I want of you.”

“I’m hardly surprised.”

“Hear me out. If you aid me, I will no longer pressure for a marriage between you and my eldest. You and the elf can go off wherever you please.”

“Everyone always wants to throw us together,” Faunon commented. Food, even this food, had done much to restore his humor, even if he and the others were still prisoners.

He was ignored by the clan elder. “Well?”

“You haven’t told me what you want of me.”

Gerrod leaned forward before his father could speak and warned, “Be careful of any promise made! Even oaths can be broken!”

“There will be no breaking of oaths!” Barakas seemed ready to kick his son back in place, but possibly knew how it would make him look to the sorceress. “This concerns your family, especially your mother and siblings!”

The warlock tried to pretend he did not care, but Sharissa already knew that, despite his abandoning the ways of his father, Gerrod had no desire to see his former folk come to harm.

“What is it you want?” she asked, in part trying to turn the patriarch’s focus away from his son. Each time it turned there, the chamber grew noticeably colder.

He scratched his throat, but, unlike so many of the other Tezerenee, Barakas no longer suffered from the rash. “I want your cooperation—and theirs—for the time needed to ascertain what may or may not have befallen those at the citadel—and especially the Lady Alcia.”

It was a bit of a rambling answer, but the thrust of it moved her as she thought not possible. Barakas might be her adversary, but his concern for his bride outweighed even his drive for power.

“I will swear by the spirit of the drake that you will gain your releases when I am satisfied that we face no threat. Well?”

“All of us?”

“All of you.”

She studied him for several seconds, organizing her thoughts. There was one more thing Sharissa wanted of him, and now was the only moment she had a chance of getting it. If she let this pass… “Darkhorse must be included.”

His altering expression almost made her regret her demand, but she could not leave the shadow steed under his control.

“You want the demon?” He struggled to regain composure and succeeded—in part. “Take him! Even with our sorcery reduced, we will prevail!”

“Then you have my cooperation.” Her words were said in a simple and straightforward fashion.

Her quiet response made him halt his tirade. Barakas took a deep breath before saying, “My gratitude, Lady Sharissa. You will find I will keep my word in this, despite my sons and their opinions otherwise.”

Meaning Gerrod and Reegan, she thought.

“Now that it is settled,” the patriarch continued, “I may tell you that the drakes are ready for us. Guards!”

In quick order, they were brought to their feet and marched through the cavern until they came to the entrance that Sharissa and the Tezerenee had entered by almost a week ago. To her surprise, the patriarch bypassed several powerful flying drakes and started down the side of the mountain to where the wingless riding drakes awaited.

“We’re not going by air?”

Gerrod, who understood the workings of his clan better than did his companions, explained. “It is Father’s evident opinion that we would be too conspicuous from the sky. Besides, for the speed of this journey, travel by land will be swifter. An airdrake must rest more often, especially if it is carrying someone.”

“That explains our relatively slow pace coming here,” Faunon suggested. “He wanted time for his second force to reach here and be rested.”

Aside from their guards, a handful of other Tezerenee were supposed to accompany them. Sharissa was surprised but relieved to see that Lochivan was one of them and that he still carried the box with him.

Barakas noticed his ill offspring. “Who told you to be here?”

“I mussst redeem myssself.”

The patriarch looked uncomfortable, as if he wanted all the eyes around him to be looking anywhere else but at him and Lochivan. “Your illness…”

“I will keep it under control,” the tall figure said in his strange voice. He did his best to allow no one else to see his face, possibly because he was so ravaged it would have disgusted some of his