chapter 4

Warlock!

“Who are you?” It was all he could get out.

“You may call me Simon. This time.”

“This time?” The words made no sense to Cabe.

“You are very much in danger, Cabe Bedlam.”

“Danger? What—Bedlam? I’m not—”

“Cabe Bedlam. Can you deny it?”

He started to speak, and then thought. Regardless of what he thought, Cabe could not make himself deny the bizarre accusations of this warlock. No one had ever called him by that name, nor had he ever thought of it. … But for some reason, it sounded right.

The face of the stranger sported a small smile. Maybe. It was so hard to tell. “You cannot deny it. Good.”

“But my father—”

“—is your stepfather. He has served his purpose. He knew what had to be done.”

“What do you want of me? I mean— Oh, no!” Cabe remembered what sort of tales surrounded the name. It was a name of legend …certainly not one suited for a serving man in a tavern. Cabe was not, did not want to be, a warlock. He shook his head frantically, trying to force the reality away in much the same way he tried to deny the silver streak in his hair.

“Yes, because your name is Bedlam.”

Cabe wrenched himself away from the table. “But I’m not a warlock! Get away from me!” Quickly realizing his outburst, Cabe looked around the tavern. The customers were drinking as if nothing had happened. How could they have missed that shouting, even with the noise of the crowd? He turned back to the warlock—

—only to find that no one was there.

Frowning, he searched under the table, half expecting the shadowy form to be there. There was nothing …except a coin, perhaps left by the warlock. Cabe was uncertain about taking money from a necromancer, but finally decided that the coin appeared normal enough. Besides, he needed it.

With one final, uncertain glance, he hurried away. The crowd was barely noticeable to him. Only the words of the warlock demanded his attention. He was a Bedlam. He could not deny it, even though he had never known it before.

New thoughts issued forth. A warlock was a person of power. Why had his ability not manifested itself? Who was this stranger who called himself Simon—“this time”?

Cabe broke out of his reverie as someone grabbed him by the shirt. He found himself staring at the grotesque features of the ogre, its hot, fetid breath wrapping over his face in waves. Cabe felt like throwing up.

“Where’s my ale?”

The ale. Cabe had taken the ogre’s coin and had forgotten the drink.

“Try to run off with my coin, eh? Thought I’d be too drunk to notice, did you?” The creature held up his other meaty fist and prepared to swing. “You need a lesson!”

Cabe shut his eyes and prayed the blow would not break his jaw. He waited, expecting it to fall any second.

And waited.

And waited.

Opening one eye a slight crack—and then both wide—Cabe saw the crumpled body of his attacker. The ogre’s companion, a heavyset thug, was trying to revive him by throwing water on his face.

Those in the crowd who had seen the incident appeared awed.

“Did you see?”

“I never saw a man move so fast!”

“One punch! Igrim never went down from just one punch!”

“Igrim never went down before!”

The thug helped a still-groggy ogre out the door. Cabe had a dark suspicion that he had not seen the last of the creature. Most likely, he and his friend would be waiting in some dark alley.

Some customers congratulated him while others merely watched warily. Cyrus, far in back, was nodding in what could only be described as confused satisfaction. Cabe wondered exactly what it was he had done. As far as he was concerned, he had been motionless.

Gradually, the crowd returned to normal. Cabe went about his duties, but his mind was on other things. Occasionally, he would turn his attention to the table in the shadows, and once or twice he thought he saw something, but when he looked again, the spot was empty. Oddly enough, none of the new customers chose to sit there.

Dark was falling, and with it came the first signs of storm. Most of the customers had disappeared for some reason or another.

He did not hear the rider enter, but he could feel his presence. So could those around him. The silence that came so suddenly spoke much for the power of this newcomer. Cabe dared a glance and immediately wished he hadn’t, for that short glimpse revealed to him an armored figure whose very presence caused those customers near the door to scurry out in a hurry.

Each step taken by the newcomer was arrogant, threatening in its precision. The warrior, whoever he was, scanned the interior of the inn as he walked toward the backmost booths, and every being who had not yet left secretly prayed that they were not what the silent visitor sought.

As the armored figure sat down, most of the remaining customers departed. The eyes of the armored figure watched each and every person leave and then began to study the various employees of the inn. Cabe tried to find other things to do, but knew he could not avoid the newcomer for long. Cyrus came over and whispered to him.

“Quickly, man! Serve him whatever he wishes, and don’t, for Hirack’s sake, ask for payment!” He gave him a shove in the general direction of the stranger. Cyrus only called upon Hirack, the local god of merchants, when he was extremely nervous.

What, Cabe wondered, had happened to the peaceful existence he’d once maintained? Slowly, he made his way through the now-empty tavern and finally stopped in front of the stranger’s table.

The helmeted head turned to him. With a start, Cabe realized that the man’s eyes were bright red. Little of his face was visible, and the skin seemed clay-brown and as dry as parchment.

“C-can I get you something, sir?”

The eyes appraised him. Cabe now noticed the sinister dragonhelm the traveler was wearing.

“I want none of your poor ale.” The voice was nearly little more than a hiss.

“Food?”

The unblinking eyes continued to appraise him. Cabe shuddered, remembering he had just asked if the stranger wanted food. He had not intended to offer himself in that respect.

“Your name is Cabe.”

“Yes.”

“So simple.” The words were not intended for Cabe, but were merely a comment.

“I am going to leave now. When I leave, you will come with me. It is of the utmost importance.”

“But I can’t leave! My employer—”

The figure paid little attention to this. “He will not prevent you. Go and ask him. I will wait outside.”

Cabe backed away as the other stood up. Even considering the elaborate dragonhelm, the stranger still towered over him. There was little doubt in Cabe’s mind that this was one of the Dragon Kings. He shuddered. When a Dragon King summoned, even the highest of men obeyed.

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