Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,410

corner. They seemed anxious but not frightened, a good sign as far as the sorceress was concerned. Anything that frightened the Tezerenee was not something she had any desire to face.

The two dismounted the instant they reached the party. Both knelt before their lord.

“Speak.”

One warrior, taller and thinner than his companion, said, “It is as you supposed, Lord Barakas. There is a great trail formed by the gathering of many drakes and leading out of the other gateway. The gateway itself is far more battered than the one we entered by. I would have to say a great exodus occurred here.”

Barakas looked around to make certain the others had heard. His gaze fell for an extended time upon Sharissa.

“How long ago was this exodus?” Gerrod asked.

The second Tezerenee looked at his master, who nodded permission to him to reply to Gerrod’s question. “A week, we decided. A few traces are older, a few younger.”

“It started so soon…” Barakas studied the two scouts. “You saw no life.”

“More blood and the remains of a riding drake, my lord,” the first one responded. “It still wore part of a bridle. One of its own had killed it.”

One of its own or something just as savage? Sharissa wondered if the same thought was going through the mind of Barakas. Why would two riding drakes struggle? They were trained to work beside each other. It would take fear or bloodlust of unbelievable proportions to make them turn on each other.

“We have our answer, then,” the patriarch announced, turning so that he looked at everyone. “There was danger and people died, but the many trails indicate that the bulk of the clan has abandoned the citadel, choosing to go south, I suppose.”

“Why would they abandon this place?” Gerrod asked, ever, it seemed, seeking to estrange himself further from his progenitor. “Something must have made them. Where is it, Father? Where did it go? Not after them, I think. There is still something here. Can you not feel it?”

“I feel nothing.”

“So I have noticed.”

Barakas reached for his son, but the warlock was too swift. Sharissa came between them.

“Stop it! Lord Barakas, if the others rode off, we should follow them, not remain here and risk encountering trouble that might prove too great for us to handle!”

The patriarch cooled down. “Perhaps you are correct. Perhaps we should—” He broke off. “Alcia!”

“What about her?”

He looked at the sorceress as if perplexed she would ask such a thing. “She’s in the great hall!”

The rest of the party stirred, wondering how the lord of the Tezerenee could know that. Sharissa hesitated, then asked, “What makes you say that?”

“I heard her voice, of course!” Barakas looked at his companions as if they had all turned deaf. “She just called to us! She needs our assistance!”

Sharissa and the others stared at him.

“Bah! My ears are still good even if yours aren’t!” He turned away and started toward the building in which the great hall lay. Though they had not heard anything, three of his warriors followed close behind. The other two remained with the riding drakes. Sharissa’s companions looked to her, knowing that her oath bound them here.

“We could leave now,” suggested the elf. “There seems nothing to accomplish here, and I do not like the thought of following someone who imagines voices.”

Gerrod turned and stared after his father. “I thought I heard a sound like a voice…”

Sharissa frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I made out nothing distinct. Certainly not my mother calling us! I think I’d recognize that!”

“I wish I could feel anything that made sense!” she muttered. Sighing, the spellcaster started after the vanished Tezerenee. “I think we’d better follow him.”

Something large hissed. Sharissa ignored it, thinking it merely one of their mounts, when Faunon put a hand on her shoulder and hurriedly whispered, “Sharissa! To your left!”

Staring out from the broken doorway of one of the nearby buildings, a savage-looking drake blinked at them. It was more than twice the size of the steeds, a true dragon. From the way it moved, it had just woken up. Reptilian eyes glared at the tiny figures and then at the suddenly apprehensive mounts. The two Tezerenee struggled to maintain control over the simple beasts.

“We rode right by that thing!” whispered Gerrod. “My father seems to have grown lax in his abilities as a warrior and a leader. He should have never—”

“Never mind that now!” Faunon touched the hilt of his sword, but then thought better of it. He glanced at the