Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,434

dragged Morgis over to Leonin. As they did, a husky Aramite with strands of graying hair thrusting out of the bottom of his helm went up to the lupine sorcerer.

“I’ve got three men keeping watch out there now, my lord, but I’d be more comfortable with three more. Just in case there are more following these.”

“As you wish, Captain D’Falc. Your attention to proper duty is commendable and will be recalled when we have taken back that which is ours.”

As the burly captain picked out the three, D’Kairn stepped to an open area near one of the back rooms. The keeper crouched, then with a piece of chalk taken from a belt pouch, began drawing on the stone floor.

“What’s he doin’?” whispered Leonin.

“Preparing to take our blood…”

Leonin spat to the side. “I’ll take his before I let him take mine.”

Morgis felt the same, but neither were truly in a position to do anything. He watched with growing trepidation as D’Kairn worked on his pattern. The drake knew enough about magic and sorcery to understand that the keeper would draw their life forces from their dead bodies, transforming those forces into dark magic. The blood itself was simply the transport, the carrier of those forces.

But what part did the skinning play?

One of the soldiers that Morgis had earlier wounded approached the bound pair with bowls. The contents stank, but nonetheless the stomachs of Morgis and Leonin rumbled for lack of any recent meal.

“Keep your mouth open and keep swallowing,” commanded the wolfhelmed figure.

The hot, coarse contents flowed down Morgis’s gullet. The soup had the consistency of mud and nearly made him choke, but at the same time it strengthened the drake and cleared his weary mind.

After they had both been fed, the soldier gave them each a swig of water, then returned to the campfire. Around them, the other Aramites ate their own meals.

“I thought they were going to kill us,” Leonin remarked. “Why feed us? Makes no sense.”

“The ssstronger we are, the ssstronger our blood. D’Kairn wishes usss to be in prime shape when he sssacrifices usss.”

And it appeared that it would not be long before that happened. The sorcerer now had a complex array of patterns before him and looked quite satisfied. He put the chalk away, then pulled out the necklace.

But at that moment, Captain D’Falc came rushing inside.

“My lord! None of the three guards are at their posts and there’s no sign as to where they might’ve gone!”

“What of those you led out?”

“Just outside, guarding the entrance in case of attack!”

D’Kairn nodded, satisfied with the measure, then eyed Morgis and Leonin. “I thought we had verified that these two and the Syrryn were the only ones.”

“Them and the cat, my lord.”

“Yes… her. Her kind are born predators, aren’t they? She may have decided to stay around after all. No doubt took the men one-by-one from behind. I appear to have underestimated the little vixen.”

“I’ll lead a patrol…” The captain’s fist squeezed tight, as if already holding Kalena by the throat.

“No, I will lead the patrol. I have no time for any more petty interruptions. We shall track down the cat promptly and add her to the collection.” He gave the two prisoners a savage smile. “The more the merrier, eh?”

D’Falc chose six men to come with them, leaving the remaining three to watch Morgis and Leonin. The hunting pack seized torches, then followed the keeper and the captain out.

Leonin immediately began struggling at his bonds, which rewarded him with a slap to the cheek by one of the guards.

“Don’t move again!” snapped the Aramite. “And no talking, either!”

Although they obeyed the latter, Morgis and his companion shared eye contact. The disappearance of the three sentries gave them hope, but how long could Kalena remain hidden from D’Kairn’s sorcery? Morgis was glad that she lived and admired her attempt to save them, but he feared that she would yet share her partners’ fate unless she abandoned her rescue mission.

The minutes dragged by. The howling wind added to the tension. Occasionally, unidentifiable noises would stir up both the prisoners and their captors.

Then, a slight scraping caught Morgis’s attention. Making certain that the guards did not notice his true reason, he stretched his neck as if trying to work the tightened muscles.

Above him, peering over the upstairs rail, a cloaked Kalena studied the tableau below her.

She noticed him watching her in turn and smiled. Morgis tipped his head to the side, a signal for her to depart the keep before