Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,80

duo. Even though the counselor had not yet said what it was he wanted her to see, the princess knew already. She struggled briefly in what proved to be a futile attempt. Quorin was even stronger than his appearance indicated.

“Counselor Quorin,” she grated angrily, trying a new tactic, “I have no desire to walk anymore, especially with you! If you do not cease this disrespectful manner, I shall be forced to mention it to my betrothed, your king!”

“Do so,” the advisor responded indifferently. Without warning, he began walking, practically dragging Erini for the first few steps before she matched his pace. Two guards moved in front and the other two fell back to the rear, creating a square of sorts with the princess and her captor in the center. A glance from Quorin convinced Erini that it was not in her best interest to shout or make noise of any sort. She doubted he intended her any physical harm, but that might change at any moment, especially once they reached their destination.

There was only one way she could extricate herself, but it meant trusting in the very curse that had placed her in jeopardy initially. Erini could not bring herself to trust her abilities, not after the wasted death of two men. Even the slightest error in judgment might add five more lives to her burden of guilt, and as much as she despised and distrusted the counselor, Erini did not want his death on her conscience.

One of the men opened the door in the wall. Quorin pulled his reluctant guest bodily to the stairway and led her down. Whereas the journey upward had lasted an eternity, this one seemed to pass in little or even no time at all. Erini was down at the base of the steps, staring at the door through which she had released death, before her thoughts could even organize themselves.

“No,” she gasped so quietly that her smiling escort did not hear her.

“These aren’t your new quarters, your majesty,” the advisor said wryly, mistaking the reason for her hesitation. “I thought you might like to see again what your beloved has wrought here. You do want to know what the true Melicard is like, don’t you? I find it hard to believe that you could still stomach him after seeing his ‘guest.’?”

“Have you lost your mind, counselor? Do you think Melicard will let this pass? Even if I do not tell him, he will discover it for himself!”

“Undoubtedly. Given the opportunity, he might even be tempted to hand me my head—as he has done to so many!”

Erini had no time to ask for a clarification to the enigmatic statement, for Mal Quorin shoved her roughly against a wall and reached for the handle to the chamber door, evidently desiring to give the moment his personal touch.

In desperation, the princess gave in to temptation. Her muddled thoughts came up with a solution she believed would not result in death and, focusing her will, she struck out at her captors.

Nothing happened.

The princess tried again, gritting her teeth in frustrated concentration. Her original idea became murky; a solution of some sort was all she desired now.

Again nothing… nothing save that Mal Quorin, who had looked inside the chamber, was now stumbling back, his face red with rage and his anger focusing on the most likely target—her.

“What happened here? Where is he? Answer me!” Quorin slapped her hard, forgetting who it was he was assaulting and why he had dragged her down here in the first place. “This was Drayfitt’s doing, wasn’t it? He’s the only one who could’ve done it!” Quorin the animal had resurfaced. His feral visage was filed with the need for blood.

It was that which strengthened Erini in the face of terrible danger. If she had so frustrated the counselor by freeing Darkhorse, then she had struck a heavy blow against his plans, whatever they were.

The soldiers had backed away from their master, obviously more familiar with his violent temper. He eyed them ferociously, knowing that someone had discovered the escape earlier but had been afraid to alert him, then sneered at his captive. One hand darted toward Erini’s face, causing her to flinch. It stopped short of striking, instead seeming to caress her bruised chin. When his hand came away, there were drops of red on two of the fingers. For the first time, the princess tasted the blood on her lower lip.

Quorin took a deep breath. “You were an unexpected impediment! Melicard to