chapter 2

The master of Irillian by the Sea ignored the slight outburst and continued. “Recently, however, things have changed. There is unrest—no, that implies too much. There is …a feeling. That is all I can call it. Not just among the humans. It appears to affect others, even the wyverns and minor drakes.”

“Ha!”

The remark was followed by a wave of bone-numbing cold. A slight frost settled wherever the Ice Dragon’s breath had reached. The Gold Dragon stared disapprovingly at him. Gaunt to the point of being cadaverous, the king of the Northern Wastes laughed again. Of all the dragons, he was one of the least seen and the least loved.

“You are becoming an old dame, brother! Subjects always become unsettled. One merely places a restraining claw on a few and crushes such thoughts.”

“Speaks the monarch of a land more empty than that of Brown.”

“Speaks the monarch who knows how to rule!” A blizzard threatened to erupt from within the Ice Dragon.

“Silence!”

The thundering roar of the Gold Dragon overwhelmed all else. The Ice Dragon fell back, his snow-colored eyes averted from the brilliance of his emperor. When the King of Kings became angered, his body glowed.

“Such infighting nearly brought calamity on us once! Have you forgotten that so soon?”

All held their heads low, save for the Black Dragon. On his massive mouth was just the barest hint of pleasure. The Gold Dragon looked at him sharply but did not reprimand. In this instance, the king of the Gray Mists was justified.

Drawing himself to his full height, the Emperor of Dragons towered above the others. “For nearly five human years did we fight that war—and nearly faced defeat! Our brother Brown still feels the aftereffects as he watches his clans dwindle! His problem is the most evident; yet we all have scars from the Dragon Masters!”

“The Dragon Masters are dead! Nathan Bedlam was the last, and he has long since perished!” bellowed the Red Dragon, who ruled the volcanic lands called the Hell Plains.

“Taking the Purple King with him!” Black could restrain himself no more. His eyes became like beacons in the night.

The emperor nodded. “Yes, taking our brother with him. Bedlam was the last and deadliest of the Masters. With his final act, he crippled us. Penacles is the city of knowledge, and Purple was its master, he who planned our strategy.” The last was said almost reluctantly, for Gold did not care to remind his brothers who had really led in those days.

“And now his lands have been usurped by the Gryphon! How much longer must we wait before we strike? Generations of man have since come and gone!” Black shook his head in anger.

“There is no successor. You know the covenant. Thirteen Kingdoms, thirteen kings. Five and twenty dukedoms, five and twenty dukes. No one must break the covenant …” For now, the emperor added to himself.

“While we wait for a successor, Lord Gryphon plots. Remember, he was known to the Masters.”

“His time will come. Perhaps soon.”

Black eyed his lord warily. “What does that mean?”

“As custom, I’ve taken Purple’s dams as mine. The first hatchings produced only minor drakes, most of whom were put to death, of course. This hatching, however, looks more promising.”

The other kings leaned forward. Hatchings were of the utmost importance. A few bad hatchings could threaten any of their clans with extinction.

“Only a handful of the clutch turned out to be minor drake eggs. The majority were firedrakes. However, four eggs contain the speckled band!”

“Four!” The single word was like a cry of exultation. The speckled band, this was the sign of Kings. Such eggs were to be guarded, for successors of Dragon Kings were extremely rare.

“It will be weeks before hatching takes place. The dam guards against unruly minor drakes, not to mention scavengers of all forms. If luck holds, they will all break free.”

Black smiled, and a dragon’s smile was something sinister. “Then will we crush this Lord Gryphon!”

“Mayhap.”

All turned to he who would dampen their rejoicing. Once again, the master of Irillian by the Sea stared at them, his eyes challenging each of them to speak. When none would protest, he shook his maned head sadly.

“None of you will listen! Must I speak again? Do not misunderstand me. This news brings great happiness to me. Perhaps my fears are unjustified. Nevertheless, I must speak, or I will always have regrets.”

“Then speak and be done with it! I grow weary of this prattling on!”

Ignoring Black, the king of the Eastern Seas continued. “I have felt such a stirring of uneasiness only once before. That last time, it foreshadowed the coming of the Dragon Masters.”

There was a hiss of anger—and, perhaps, fear—from more than one of the great lords.

Black was now smiling. “In truth, brother Blue, I must apologize for myself. You have brought up the very point that I wished to discuss.”

The emperor shook his head. “This land is old. The Dragon Kings have ruled for ages, but our reign is young compared to that of some of the earlier races. Even now, traces of ancient powers turn up. This stirring of our subjects’ feelings may very well be magical in nature. Still,” he paused and studied the cavern, “we have tried to weed out those who might possess some sort of attunement to those ancient ways. I know of few humans now living who are a threat.”

“There is one that may threaten us.” The words were quiet but firm. Without looking, all knew that Black had spoken out again.

“And who may that be?”

The Dweller of the Gray Mists spread his wings in confidence. The audience was his. “We know his family well. Very well. He is young, untrained, but his name is Cabe Bedlam.”

As one, the Dragon Kings, even Gold, backed slightly, as if just bitten. “Bedlam!” was whispered by more than one voice.

The emperor fairly shrieked. “Why have we not known of this human? Where is this hatchling of a demon-warlock?”

“In the lands now held by the Gryphon. Nathan Bedlam placed the child, who is his grandson, in Mito Pica. Since the region is known for the spawning of warlocks and their like, I have sometimes sent spies forth. It was one of them who discovered the human.”

Red growled. “You crossed two borders at least, brother! I wonder how many spies you have.”

“We all have our ears and eyes. Besides, this human had to be watched!”

“Why did you not have him killed?” the Green Dragon asked. “This is most unlike you, Black. When have you become hesitant in pursuing your goals?”

Bowing his head subserviently to the emperor, Black replied, “I would not do so without permission from my lord.”

Gold snorted. “There is a first for everything, apparently.”

“Do I have your permission?”

“No.”

There was silence.

“With the hatchings only a short time away, I will not permit a conflict that may draw the Gryphon in against us. He is cunning; he knows the importance we place on the speckled-band eggs. His agents could cause us harm in that respect. As long as the Bedlam whelp remains where he is and knows not his danger, we will leave him alone.”

“If we wait much longer, this youngling could take up the mantle of his accursed ancestor!”

“Nevertheless, we must wait. When the hatchlings are strong enough, this last of the Bedlams will die.”

He settled back. “This council is over.”

The emperor leaned back and closed his eyes as if to sleep, pointedly ignoring his brethren from this point on. Wordlessly, the Dragon Kings spread themselves apart. Their bodies quivered and shrank. The great reptilian faces pulled away until they were once again dragonhelms covering near-inhuman faces. Wings shriveled and tails ceased to exist. Forelegs became arms while the hind ones straightened.

When all was done, the riders saluted their lord and departed from the chamber. Gold did not watch them leave.

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