Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,94

completely fooled her and was even now bringing her to her own cell. The trek was taking her into regions of the palace that she had not known even existed. It amazed the princess to think that there was still so much she had not investigated. If she survived, Erini intended to survey every plan of this behemoth and then double-check every corridor and room personally.

Dreams of entering into such minor crusades kept her from going completely insane with anxiety. Too many things seemed to count on her. She had welcomed them in the past, but none had ever involved death—and so much of it—or the use of questionable abilities. Erini was no coward; that was not her fear. What ate at her was the fact that she might not be enough. Melicard, Iston, Galea, and Magda… they and so many others would likely die if she did not succeed.

A rough hand grabbed her arm. She almost lashed out with whatever her abilities would give her, then realized that she had fallen behind the ensorcelled sentry. He looked at her as if seeing someone else.

“Come on. This way.” His voice was slurred, something that could be explained away as from exhaustion. She quickly reminded him of that fact. He coughed his acknowledgment of the command—a trick Erini had mixed in with the original commands—and resumed the journey. Erini kept pace with him this time, noting that they were heading toward a darkened stairway.

Down below the earth again. I should have known! It would make things that much more difficult—and that much more dependent on her abilities.

They descended together and, at the bottom of the stairway, her plan received its ultimate test. Four sentries stood guarding the underground passageway. Unlike the one beside her, these men did not look in the least bit tired. They studied the newcomers, first with veiled curiosity, then with eye-widening interest when they discovered who it was they were seeing.

One of them, possibly the leader, possibly not, pointed the tip of his mace at Erini’s companion. The others were armed with blades of varying wear. All looked far more skilled at using the weapons than the mesmerized figure at her side. “The cripple’s woman! You’ve caught her!”

“Yeah.” The answer issued forth easy enough, but Erini’s guard had been ordered not to continue unless pressed.

“Why bring her down here? The master said no one’s to see the prisoner.”

Erini forced herself not to look at her companion and try to guide his answer. It would have to be his response alone. “New orders. The counselor wants her to spend a last few minutes with him. See how pretty he is. See what she would’ve married.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, but then malicious grins began to appear. This was something they would have expected from a leader such as Mal Quorin. Destroy the last good memories of Melicard. Turn his betrothed’s love to disgust. None of them could fathom a woman continuing to care for a “cripple,” though Erini was of the silent opinion that, even without the elfwood to mask his face and replace his arm, Melicard was worth a thousand of these men.

“Go on,” the leader signalled.

The princess’s guard stumbled a little, nearly causing her heart to fail. Had they looked closely, they might have noticed the glazed look that was returning to his eyes. Fortunately, they assumed it was something else.

“You’d better report to Ostlich when you’re through with her. He don’t want anyone dropping on duty. Not tonight.” The leader indicated a scar running across one of his men’s face. “Edger here stays real alert now, don’t you Edger? Sometimes up to four days!”

The one called Edger nodded, but said nothing. Erini’s companion returned the nod automatically and added a slow “Yeah.” His words were becoming more slurred. Fortunately, he was already leading her past them.

When they were out of sight, she started to breathe a sigh of relief—only to cut it short when two more guards came into view. They leaned against a wall in which several cell doors stood as grim reminders of some of Talak’s less-than-pleasant history. One of them looked up.

“What’s goin’? Why’s she here?”

Her puppet did not respond. Erini pretended to stumble, prodding him into activity as she bumped into his side. He repeated his short explanation concerning Quorin’s sadistic little game. His words were slow, but understandable.

The look that passed between the two sentries at the cell indicated that they thought something besides exhaustion had taken its toll on