Lord Of Dragons (Book 2) Read online

  "You have kept your word and returned to us," said Master Rennal, one of his elder sorcerers and once most trusted ally. "Now surrender and come quietly down to the lair, as we have much to inform you of our assignment."

  If he were to cast the healing spell over the man, then certainly the others would strike him down in quick succession. But it was a calculated risk as Master Vhelan hoped the shield would last long enough to stop them. He flourished his fingers and the golden light surged over Master Rennal's head and a delicate green mist wafted into the dark sky. To his surprise, the other sorcerers didn't immediately attack, they merely gaped at Master Rennal, as if waiting for orders on what to do next. Was the mentalist magic of the Princes of Naverstrom really so hierarchical? Once they commanded their minds did they always look for direction from a leader?

  He looked around at the familiar faces of the remaining sorcerers and cast quick curing spells at all who went to move against him. A shield sprung up and blocked his spells, and Master Vhelan knew the battle would prove difficult. Mistress Lassendre came close and with their backs pressed against each other, faced their opponents. The cure had also taken on Master Rennal, and the man sidled over to them and joined forces. There were over twenty Hakkadians rallied against them, far too many for the three of them to defeat. Especially since it seemed they were armed with the power and secret magic of the Princes. Magic that Master Vhelan had tried in vain for years to discover.

  "Allow them to cast the first spell against us," he whispered, and the three of them bunched together and kept their eyes fixed on the advancing Hakkadians.

  "Surrender to the power of Princes Xanthes, and your lives we will spare." The voice came from an unfamiliar Hakkadian girl, likely one of the youths tainted by the foul air of Naverstrom. The girl's eyes were dull and black, like the eyes of a goat staring at you in twilight.

  "Have you lost the spirit of what it means to be Hakkadian?" Master Vhelan kept his voice soft and unchallenging, wanting to tug at the heartstrings of their opponents.

  The girl spat and a scowl twisted her once pretty face. "There are no Hakkadians. The Hakkadian people died two hundred years ago when they entered the caves of Naverstrom. Do not attempt to school me, Vhelan, for you'll find schooling an ancient immortal a rather impossible task."

  So the girl was possessed by Prince Xanthes... Master Vhelan had seen a few instances of this in the past, but the occurrence was very rare. Why of all times would he choose to do this? Was he threatened by the fact that the sorcerer had cured two of his compatriots? Or that he had discovered the secret of the cure against their mentalist spell? Not that it would remain effective for long. The Princes had a way of always changing their spells and adapting to deal with any resistance.

  "Why are you sending your draenyx against the dwarves?" Master Vhelan believed in directly throwing the truth he knew against his opponents, and judging their response.

  The girl actually hissed and spittle flew from her mouth. She flicked her fingers and a wave of green smoke enveloped them, but the shield Master Vhelan had set reflected the poisonous air back towards their opponents, sending the Hakkadians scurrying away in fear.

  "Did that runt of a wife tell you?" The Hakkadian girl shot out a blast of wind and poison wafted up into the sky. "The draenyx are none of your concern, sorcerer. And the dwarves have no means to resist our army. They're far better miners and crafters than fighters."

  "I think the Dwarven King might disagree with you. They've given the elves a hard enough time over the last several thousand years. You don't suppose it was all due to their superior weapons and armor? Or perhaps this is what you desire for your army of abominations?"

  This time the girl's eyes flared with an acid green fire and her clawed fingers shot electric-green bolts at Master Vhelan. The spell tested and tore away at the shield, until the green arcs formed strange scintillating beasts that ate away at the shield in a frenzied, frothy rage. He knew the shield would fail after a few seconds, so he counterattacked and blast the Hakkadian girl with a simple stunning spell and followed by casting several curing spells against three of his other elders. It would be futile to try and cure the girl, since she was already on the side of the Prince.

  Once the girl came to her senses after the short-lived spell, Master Vhelan found his group had doubled with the arrival of three of his most powerful elders. Now they had a chance, albeit slim, but a chance he could work with to create success. The taunting was working...

  "What little you know of the outside world," he shouted, "so much has changed since you were free to molest the surface. You've spent far too many centuries festering away in the bowels of the earth, and in your madness believe that your plan to conquer the world will actually work? Not a chance even after a hundred turns of the Wheel of Whim. The elves are against you, the dwarves are against you, and the humans will be against you once they know of your nefarious plan. Already I have commanded my loyal elders to ride north and warn the dwarves and ride east and inform the elves."

  Now the girl's small figure wracked with maniacal spasms as she tore at her hair and screamed at him in a wrathful fury, her face warped and ugly and verging on disfiguring into a demon. Master Vhelan remembered the horrific experience at the Arcanum and the corruption of Master Loral's body, and feared whether the Princes would stoop to such disgusting depths as to implant demons into the small forms of Hakkadian children.

  "You dare to so openly declare war upon us?" The girl scoffed at him and strode closer, until he could clearly see the green fire around her figure gleaming in the darkness. "We will torture and humiliate every member of your race. You know nothing of the horrors we can inflict on your small, pathetic bodies. So informed are you of our creations down deep in the laboratories of Naverstrom, but how could you forget we possess the ability to experiment on your seed? We had hoped you would wisely choose to ally with us, but you have proven us wrong. The lines have been drawn in the fabric of time, and we will tarry with you no more."

  The girl shielded herself and barked orders to the other Hakkadians to do the same, and as Master Vhelan watched them form up magical barriers, he glanced over at the now agitated dragons and worried about their next move. He took a risk and focused on the dragons, commanding the five eldest dragons of his comrades to fly and escape to a safe place and only return after a few hours had past.

  At the flight of the massive creatures, the girl flared her eyes and tried to seize control of the dragons but found the mental barrier around beast's minds impossible to break. While the girl was distracted, Master Vhelan pursued the minds of a few of the other dragons and found acceptance and relief in their minds at being free from their domination. He promised them complete freedom in the future if they obeyed him, and one-by-one he found them all submitting to his plea for help.

  Master Vhelan laughed at his opponents and found mirth in their frustration and anger at being unable to control their dragons. "Powerless are you against your own mounts? I find this unsurprising. And although the minds of my fellow brethren may be tainted, I'm certain that a trickle of realization is filtering in right now. For they know of me, they know of my power, and there is good reason they call me Lord of the Dragons."

  The creatures called out as if in answer, and flared fire and acid and smoke into the air. Several of the Hakkadian opponents looked shaken, and in their distraction Master Vhelan took the opportunity to cast the curing spell and broke through their faltering shield. He held the advantage now and after glancing at his comrades, pressed that advantage as hard as he could. Together they focused their attacks on the girl, against the Prince's dark rage that poured from her eyes. If he could save her he would, but likely the Prince would destroy her first.

  Her shield was weakening against the combined power of their attacks and the girl, seeing her comrades failing to rally in her support, cast a quick spell and took flight in a pitiful attempt to flee. He shouted for his allies to allow her to escape, and several of her youth
ful friends fled with her, disappearing off beyond the northern walls. Without dragons, they'd have a terrible time making their way north to Naverstrom.

  The battle was over. But they had won nothing other than their freedom and the dragons, and with it a chance to aid the dwarves against the army of draenyx. A poor chance indeed, especially knowing the elves would refuse to help... The fools blind themselves to the world beyond their borders, thought Master Vhelan. But perhaps the dark elves might help, but with their aid came the risk of an alliance with the Princes. Yet still, he would dispatch a few of those loyal to him to ride and visit with the dark elves. Twas a delicate game he played, one with lives at stake.

  Only if Princess Sebine reaches Shaar'el unscathed and strikes a pact with the Malathians. Little chance of that happening, mused Master Vhelan, especially after we assaulted Princess Marei at the wedding celebration. But what about the promise of power in the northern ruins? Was there a chance that they could reach the ancient city and discover a relic that could tilt the balance of power in the world in their favor?

  Only if you help them, he told himself. Indeed, and only with the aid of the dragons. Where might they be now? As far as Glar Bay? He stretched out his mind and could feel the tendrils of her mind working. Yes, she was alive and untroubled. Glar Bay was a foul and dangerous place, but somehow he believed that the Princess would navigate and find a way west by ship. The problem was gaining entry into the Malathian Kingdom. But if he commanded Kraithen and Alyxaria to fly west and find Princess Sebine and Tael Shalinor, would his hold over their dragon minds fail after such a vast distance? Or could he convince the dragons to aid them as freed dragons? Was their time together enough to establish a bond of loyalty?

  It might be a risk he needed to take. For a Hakkadian spy living in the west had informed him that the Malathians had issued warnings to watch for any royalty or member of the government of the Kingdom of Valance that might arrive at their borders. And what if there was a declaration of war? Instead of being spurred from entering the kingdom they might find themselves slain...

  Chapter Three

  THEY NEVER EVEN had a chance. A surge of fury seized Tael's heart as a mob of men dragged a group of screaming women off a ship at the port of Glar Bay. The captain of the ship gave a greedy grin as he accepted a heavy coin purse from the leader of the men. They were sold like cattle. Tael wrinkled up his face in disgust. Sebine seemed to share in his feeling, and she clenched the ship's railing until her knuckles went white.

  "Are we really going in there?" Tael whispered, and studied the dank and dark city. Glar Bay was a massive, sprawling slum, more of a collection of hastily assembled shacks and muddy streets littered with hogs and chickens and filthy people. There were several large, multi-storied buildings farther in, but each remnant of civilization was surrounded by a cesspool of shacks and muck. Without any visible organization, the city seemed to feed on chaos.

  Sebine glanced around at the mayhem infecting the docks. Crates and barrels were being unloaded from their ship, and Captain Greivish was arguing with a burly, bald-headed man outside the dockmaster's house. The Captain frowned and gestured wildly and pointed at them, mouthing words in a heated conversation. The bald man shook his head in irritation and finally waved the Captain away and turned to talk to another captain.

  "Doesn't look like a good sign." Sebine watched the Captain as he lumbered up the gangplank to where they stood. He pressed his meaty hands against his hips and released an exasperated sigh.

  "The dockmaster is being a bloody stubborn fool. I tried to talk him into allowing you to board the next ship west, but he refused. If I could only get you onto a ship without going through Master Oberon, you might have an easier time of it. As much as I'd love to see you avoid Glar Bay, I'm afraid you'll need to come along and see Master Oberon."

  A woman's scream below in the agitated pool of sweating men caught Sebine's attention, and Tael felt helpless as he noticed the mob of men had discovered a woman hiding inside a barrel.

  "If you don't want to go on," the Captain said, "you are more than welcome to sail east with me and my crew and return to a safer part of the world. Is that what you want?"

  Sebine shook her head and shoved aside a sailor standing on the gangplank. "Let's go before I lose my nerve." She pulled the heavy wool hood over her head and Tael skipped around and led her down to the docks, ignoring the appraising stares of the men milling around below. With one hand Tael gripped Balensaar and the other held Sebine's arm. If they met any opposition on their way to meet Master Oberon, he wouldn't think twice about feeding his blade's hunger for blood.

  The Captain marched past them and brought several sailors to protect them through their entry into the thick crowd of men. Aside from a few pushes and unwanted hands grasping out at Sebine, the clusters of hungry-eyed men parted at their advance. But they had to almost trot to keep up with the Captain's deliberate pace through the muddy streets lined with merchants hawking their wares.

  What looked like filth and chaos from the ship's view soon resolved into dry, covered streets with a kind of order and civility, where shops sold knives, leather goods, clothes, rope, and freshly baked bread and roasted meats lathered in oil. Farther up there were tea and coffee merchants and cross-legged old men playing cards and sipping on their steaming drinks.

  The men's gazes stayed with Tael as he scanned them along the way. They held a haunting hopelessness in their eyes and glanced indifferently at the sailors as if they were as ephemeral as ghosts wafting by in the night. But the men were the ghosts in this the city of the living dead. Many of the men possessed the air of having once been a sailor, but cast aside for their old age, they were now anchored to this hovel in an endless pursuit of survival. Some who owned shops or bars or inns or property were doing well, but the majority lived hand-to-mouth.

  "Be careful up here," Captain Greivish said, and inclined his head towards a guarded entrance into what looked like a painting from the darkest depths of hell. "And young woman, you'd be wise to avert your eyes from the ungodly sights. Master Oberon likes to surround himself with the Whispering Ones."

  The guards crossed spears and blocked their entrance into the hellish place. Not that Talis wanted to go in there... On the other side of the gate there was a vast collection of ghoulish-looking men and woman dressed in tattered, filthy clothes shuffling around sleeping figures. Their eyes were vacant and mouths open in hunger. Some were gathered along a tall fence that protected a huge building that looked like a fortress. Tael would have named them the Lost Souls.

  "What's your business with Lord Oberon?" The lean, chiseled guard sneered at the Captain with hopeful eyes that longed for violence. His shaved head gleamed in the torchlight. Talis mused at the mention of "Lord" — did the man now claim lordship over Glar Bay? It seemed to come as a surprise to the Captain.

  "I'm Captain Greivish of the Fair Winds. I have business to discuss considering my shipment to Ghen." The old Captain glanced at Sebine. "And these young people have a business proposition that will most certainly interest Lord Oberon."

  The guard let his lustful eyes linger on Princess Sebine, and gave Tael a dismissive glance. "I'm sure Lord Oberon will be more than happy to welcome them both into his palace, especially the pretty one. Go on ahead and ignore the sheep, it's been a while since they last ate and they're getting a little rowdy in there. You might find yourselves lucky enough to witness feeding time." The guards shared some secret joke and chuckled deviously together as they stared at the throngs of people inside.

  Then Tael saw it and his bones shivered in horror at the sight. "Keep your eyes covered, Sebine," he hissed, and found his hands trembling as he stared at the ground. Were they really eating each other? Clumps of writhing bodies moved in an animalistic rush. The bloodlust in their eyes. The hunger for flesh and the endless craving. It was far beyond any nightmare Tael could ever imagine.

  He followed the Captain past the guards and tried his best to keep his eyes focuse
d on the Captain's black jacket and the white dandruff littering his shoulders. But to each side was a maddening sight that screamed and begged to be seen. Can't we just set fire to the whole place? Tael thought, and longed to fly Kraithen and pour forth a flood of flames and purge the land of this insanity.

  The wretches here were vile, disgusting creatures, and both men and women alike possessed the same gaunt, emaciated bodies and fevered eyes and chattering mouths that whispered incomprehensible words. Their eyes were shifting constantly across the sea of bodies as if searching for food or perhaps a drug. But mostly they just stared at the massive white building ahead with yellow stains around the base. Guards were stationed at several entrance points into the building, and they seemed to relish clubbing any poor soul that lumbered or crawled too close.

  "We'd better hurry," Captain Greivish said, and stepped past a trembling hand that had tried to seize his ankle. "Looks like the guards are preparing for something."

  Tael wasn't sure how they could walk any faster, especially not with Sebine keeping a hand over her eyes. She yelped in terror as hungry hands went to grasp at her legs, most of which he was able to kick away. A question came to him in a rush.

  "Why are all these pathetic people here?" He caught the Captain's fearful eyes.

  "Best not ask such questions when the guards are near. Let's just say that Lord Oberon has allied himself with a dark witch, a woman who requires ample supplies for her nefarious experiments... The highly addictive drugs are easily produced to ensure a constant flow of the necessary ingredients for her laboratory. Now, be quiet and say no more, we'll soon reach the entry point."

  Dark witch? Tael had heard stories from his grandfather of the southern Islands of Marr, as the dark arts were common there, but he had no idea why a witch would be practicing her foul magic here. Perhaps Lord Oberon used the witch to gain power over Glar Bay?