"Good! Lore."

The black man appeared from nowhere. How long had he been lurking nearby? "Your Majesty?"

"Have the animals been readied?"

"I ordered men to make them ready more than an hour ago . . . in antic.i.p.ation."

"Ssssplendid."

"We are to ride?" questioned Asaalk. "Not teleport?" "Not until late in the journey. Teleportation works best when one is familiar with the region." Commander Lore's bored look was a mask; Wellen knew he did not care to stay in the northerner's presence any longer than necessary. "There has been no reason to remember that area until now; it was like any other part of the region. With the exception of a few masters, such as Shade, most spellcasters are better off using line of sight for such unfamiliar places."

"We would need to see where we are going, yes?" "Exactly." No longer needing to look at the blue man, Benton Lore awaited further commands.

The truth was that there would be no teleporting at all. Neither Wellen nor Xabene was capable of casting the spell, but that was not the reason why. After all, Lore, who was to follow behind in order to keep their backs covered from possible treachery, did have the capability. The Green Dragon, however, had pointed out that excessive spellcasting would only attract the attention of his fellow monarch. A small group of riders had a better chance, especially if Purple was intentionally looking for the telltale signs of teleportation.

Asaalk was the reason they hinted at utilizing teleportation at all. Whether he was not truly the blue man or was willingly serving the other drake lord, the figure beside them was not to be trusted as far as the Green Dragon was concerned. False information fed to him might make its way to Purple. That would give them two distractions. At the very least, it would certainly keep the blue man at a disadvantage.

Their efforts might be for nothing; the Purple Dragon by no means could see everything that went on in his domain. Wellen and the others could feasibly reach their destination, succeed or not at contacting the gnome, and return without any incidence of danger.

No one was willing to believe it would be so easy.

WeIlen wanted to leave Prentiss Asaalk behind, but the master of Dagora Forest would not have that. Drakes were apparently fond of overdone subterfuge and the Green Dragon reveled in it. The scholar was certain only disaster would come of it in the end.

The drake lord shifted, bringing everyone's attention back to the situation at hand. "The time for talk is over, then. Lore, see what activity occurs in my brother's domain. Master Bedlam, you will ready yourself and see to it that your companions are ready." Hesitation, then, "Would that I could be there when he finally realizes he has been tricked and that we have gained access to what he, the Lords of the Dead, and all their predecessors failed to capture!"

Feeling uncomfortable with the Dragon King's overconfidence, Bedlam reminded him, "The plan is hardly foolproof; the gnome may laugh at me from within his citadel! I am only relying on the thought that in certain cases, he and I are of like mind."

"I have faith in you, human. Besides, as has been brought up more than once, nothing else has succeeded. Why not try your plan? At the most it can only fail!"

He was not certain whether the Dragon Lord was serious or not, but he could hardly ask. Wellen took one last look at the tapestry, exhaled sharply, and said, "Let's hope that is all that happens."

No one had to remind him of what failure by itself actually meant. Wellen and the others might still return to the forest, from there to continue on with their lives as best as possible. For Shade, however, it meant death sooner or later at the rotting hands of the Lords of the Dead.

That was, of course, a.s.suming he was not dead already.

Prentiss Asaalk confronted him a short time later in the corridor by the former's chamber. Servants had taken what few things Wellen was going to carry and brought them ahead so they could be packed. The explorer had intended on trying to talk to the Green Dragon for the few minutes that still remained. There were details about the diversions he was uncertain about and wanted clarified.

"Wellen Bedlam, you and I must speak."

The scholar's throat tightened. "About what?"

"Please! Inside the room." Asaalk's voice was low and just a little uncertain.

After the necromancers' invasion, it was doubtful that anything could occur that Lore's soldiers would not respond to in a matter of seconds. Nonetheless, Wellen was somewhat leery about being alone with the blue man. "Perhaps we could talk later, when-"

"No! It must be now!" The ma.s.sive northerner seemed to fill up the corridor. "Please, Master Bedlam!"

The intensity with which Asaalk spoke, moved, even breathed, made Wellen acquiesce. Nodding, he allowed the blue man to lead the way into the chamber. Asaalk had never struck him as a man who did things for no reason and if he needed to speak so urgently with Wellen, then it might do the scholar some good to listen. Perhaps some questions the Green Dragon had brought up would be answered. Still, the scholar did not consider himself a complete fool. As he followed the northerner in, Wellen put one hand on the hilt of the sword that he had convinced the Dragon King to let him wear.

Asaalk studied the chamber, possibly seeking magical eyes that might report his words to the drake lord even as he spoke them. Satisfied, the blue man finally talked.

"Master Bedlam, I must warn you about myself." "Warn me?"

The blue man's eyes darted back and forth. "I spoke of escaping the collar put on me by the Dragon Purple, yes?" "Yes."

"I did not escape that collar, my friend."

"But the marks . . . " At one point when they had last spoken alone, Prentiss Asaalk had shown him the marks left by the metal collar. They were purplish, scaly scratches. Wellen had been certain at the time that removing the collar must have been painful if it had caused these.

"Aaah . . . " Asaalk gave him a grim smile and fingered one of the scars. "These do not show where the collar was, but where the collar is! Like the building whose master has buried it, the cursed thing lies beneath the surface, yes! Beneath the skin!"

Without thinking, Wellen started to reach forward to touch the other's neck. Asaalk jerked away. "No! Only I may touch it! Anyone else's touch is agony! One of my captors put a hand to the back of my neck, yes, and I almost doubled over!"

"How is it you are able to tell me? That hardly seems like a thing that the Purple Dragon would neglect to prevent. He does not mark me as a simple tyrant."

"And he is not, no. I have some small magic of my own and I have my own indomitable will." He swelled with pride. "I am never totally beaten! I always strike back!" Prentiss Asaalk twitched then, moving like someone just whipped. The blue man deflated a bit. "The collar always fights to regain even that bit of ground from me. I fear that sooner or later it will triumph, yes. Yet, no one can remove the collar, save the Purple Dragon and he will do that only if I obey his commands- "And what are those?"

"To bring you to him, of course."

"Me? In particular?" Wellen recalled standing before the pentagon and watching it vanish. Had the other Dragon King been observing and decided, like so many others had, that the would-be warlock was responsible? Wellen was beginning to wonder himself. Was he absolutely certain that the tingle he had felt had not originated from him? Absurd, yes, but still not entirely improbable. After all, he had not meant to bespell Shade, yet he had.

"You." The blue man seemed to bemoan this fact. "He has come to believe you must be here to steal the dragon tome from him . . . he is certain that it is his by right, yes."

"I only want to be left alone, to live in peace."

Asaalk shrugged. "But we cannot and now we must think of what to do."

"The Green Dragon might be able to do something."

"He cannot. I believe my accursed master, yes, when he says that he has planned for that, but"-suddenly, the crafty northerner's eyes narrowed-"could the gnome, do you think?"

Even from what little he knew about the short, squat figure, Bedlam thought it quite possible. "If he can do everything that's been hinted to me, then I think it's very possible that he can help you."

"That is good. If he cannot, I must face the wrath of the Dragon King. I a.s.sure you that he is not a forgiving creature, no."

Asaalk twitched again. Wordlessly, he stepped away from Wellen and turned his back to the scholar. The blue man's entire backside shook from effort. Bedlam purposely found other things to study, thinking that the struggling northerner deserved to preserve his pride. As much as he disliked many things about Prentiss Asaalk, he admired the blue man's spirit. Wellen was not so certain he could have been as strong under the circ.u.mstances.

At last, the blue man turned around. His countenance in no way betrayed his struggle with the pain Wellen had watched him go through. "You must let me come with you. I must speak to this little man."

The Green Dragon would forbid him doing that and Benton Lore would be with the trio to a.s.sure that the scholar obeyed. Still, if there was anything he could do to aid the blue man, Wellen knew he had to try. "I'll see."

"I can ask no more."

They heard the sounds of armored men marching through the tunnel. As the two of them turned to face the entranceway, a guard stuck his head inside. He pulled it back almost immediately. There was some muttering, then Commander Lore stepped in.

"Everything is prepared. We do not know what Purple himself is doing, but our eyes watch his lackey's every move. He seems to be waiting, nothing more."

"Which means your lord wants us to leave now."

"Unless there is still urgent need to complete other matters, Master Bedlam. It is for your own sake, I must point out. His Majesty does not desire to endanger you any more than necessary. He cares."

"How n.o.ble," Asaalk sneered. Wellen gave him a severe frown, warning him not to provoke the major-domo.

Lore's eyes flared, but his visage remained polite and cool, as it always was around the blue man. "Yes, very much so. The same could certainly not be said for most of his kind, especially the tyrant whose land you reenter."

The blue man said nothing.

Wellen stepped between them, pretending interest only in the coming quest. "Have you provided Xabene with a map case for the tapestry? We need to keep it clean and out of sight."

"I have." The dark-skinned officer nodded, his eyes acknowledging his understanding of why the scholar had interrupted. "Even now, she waits by the mounts."

"Good. Then we had best be on our way."

"As you desire." Lore stepped aside and, with a sweep of his arm, indicated that the two outsiders should depart first. Asaalk stalked out of the chamber immediately, with WeIlen following close behind. A good thing we won't be here any longer than necessary! he thought. Each time these two meet, they come closer to blows!

Whether or not they succeeded, he was determined to help the blue man free himself of the Dragon King's deadly ring. Then, Asaalk would be encouraged to go somewhere, anywhere, that he might like. Wellen intended to spend some time discussing the history of the realm with the Green Dragon, but he could hardly do that if Asaalk remained with him. Xabene also had a say in the matter, a very essential say, and her dislike of the blue man's ways was more than obvious.

It occurred to Wellen that he was a.s.suming they would all be returning. That was still in doubt even with the information that Prentiss Asaalk had provided him.

Their footfalls echoed throughout the corridor, a feature of the caverns that he had grown so accustomed to that he barely noticed anymore. That was why when Benton Lore stepped up beside him that the shorter man was surprised when the officer commented, "The echoes have always fascinated me."

"Oh?"

"Actually, the acoustics of this entire system of caverns must be experienced over a long period of time to fully understand their complexity. One hears so much." The commander's expression was entirely innocent.

That settled the question of whether the Dragon King knew what the two foreigners had discussed. Wellen did not reply, but he took it as a mark of the monarch's trust that he had even been given a hint.

Prentiss Asaalk, several steps ahead, scratched his throat at the sore marks.

When they reached the animals, Xabene was there. Her eyes, first slits when she spied Asaalk, lit up when Wellen entered the chamber. He returned her smile, but his attention was momentarily fixed on his surroundings. They stood in what was an organized and very well-kept stable. Row upon row of stalls attested to the great capacity of the place. Most of the stalls were empty, but a few held tall, ready animals. The party's mounts were already saddled and waiting.

"Tell me, commander," Wellen said, noting the walls and ceiling of the chamber. "Was this entire system carved out or did any of it exist before the coming of the drakes?"

"Much of it was as you see it, sirrah. Even this place. But there have been many ruling races in this land, as my lord made mention, and some of those used this place before. We have had to make few additions."

"A ready-made kingdom," Xabene commented. "I hope the next rulers appreciate it as much as your masters do."

"Your mounts await you," Benton Lore reminded them, the enchantress's comment diplomatically ignored. It was impossible to believe he did not think about who those rulers would be. The Green Dragon had already hinted that the human race was becoming more and more an influential force in the realm. The major-domo himself was part of that force, having almost gained a kingdom of his own from the looks of things. The human habitations of this cavern system had to nearly equal in size those of the drake clans unless the entire cave system was even more extensive than it seemed. With men like Benton Lore to lead the way, humanity was indeed gaining a stronger foothold, especially in this region.

Not all the Dragon Kings were likely to appreciate that as much as the Green Dragon did.

Lore watched in silence as they mounted their horses. Because of Prentiss Asaalk, he did not mention that he would be following, but Wellen knew that they would barely be beyond the cave entrance before the commander himself mounted. He felt a little better knowing that Lore would be behind them; in some ways, the efficiency of the man reminded him of the late, lamented Yalso. Recollections of the captain, both before and after his death, renewed Wellen's decision to go ahead with this lunacy. Unlike Yalso, Shade might not yet be beyond his ability to save.

"You will be led to the entrance," the officer informed them solemnly. "From there, you will be on your own. You have the maps I gathered for you and you have the tapestry. That should be all you need. Follow the timetable we agreed on and there should be no trouble. Lord Purple will be too busy with other matters to watch out for you."

"Let us hope so." Asaalk's whisper was loud enough for all of them to hear.

"May the Dragon of the Depths watch over you," the black man concluded.

Two soldiers on horseback joined them. One of them, a dark-skinned man he recognized from the initial patrol, saluted and said, "Master Bedlam, if you and yours will follow me."

They did as he requested, Wellen and Xabene riding alongside one another and the blue man a length behind them. After the trio came the other soldier. Lore was taking no chances.

From the torch-lit stable they entered a darkened tunnel. The soldiers were undaunted by this change, but Wellen disliked it. There was no complaint from Asaalk, however, and Xabene, more used to the night than the day, likely was at peace. Wellen wished he could adjust his eyes to the way they had been during his sojourn into the realm of the dead.

A tiny light blossomed in the distance, the entrance to the outside. Bedlam wanted to ride hard toward it in order to escape the darkness, but he was aware how that might appear to the others. They would reach the light before long, anyway.

Then their troubles would truly begin.

Chapter Sixteen.

The gnome smiled as he watched his adversaries play their games. The flurry of activity beyond his domain had given birth to a new, typically remarkable idea and he looked forward to implementing it when the time came.

The time was very near. Only a short distance from him, in fact.

When the time chosen for the diversion came, they acted as planned. They rode with speed and determination, their course rechecked just prior to the appointed hour. The citadel was still in the northwestern region, so close to where they had waited that it seemed almost a shame they had waited at all. Yet, wait they had, for no one, with the possible exception of Prentiss Asaalk, wanted to go charging in until their chances were best.

Somewhere behind them, Benton Lore was supposedly keeping pace. There had been no sign of the man, but the soldier was an expert at scouting . . . as he seemed to be expert at almost everything else.

Wellen's head, of course, pounded with dire warnings all the while. He needed no overly sensitive albeit consistent ability to tell him that he faced possible danger. He had known that from the first time the Dragon King had suggested this.

To the scholar's left, Prentiss Asaalk stared sullenly ahead. He had not forgiven them for their lack of trust, at least, that was what Wellen had decided. It was possible that would change if they were successful and the gnome showed them not only how to free Shade, but also how to rid the blue man of the magical collar just underneath his skin. The thought of the collar being there made Bedlam cringe every time he considered it; a fine but horrible piece of sorcery. He was amazed that anyone could live with such a thing attached, but the Dragonrealm probably held worse than that.

"It has to be just a short distance ahead!" shouted Xabene. "If we go too much farther, we'll be too much to the east!"

So far, there had been no sign of activity on the Purple Dragon's part. Wellen was both wary and relieved by that. True, the Green Dragon's deception was already at work, but from what he had heard of the master of this land, Bedlam could not help considering that this drake lord might not be so easily fooled.

Could it be he wanted them to locate the citadel for him? If so, how did the Dragon King think he was going to seize the prize? If the gnome deigned to speak to them, then they would surely be under some protection, as, of course, would be the tome everyone wanted so badly. If they failed, then Purple would be back where he started.

Benton Lore probably held the key. It would not have been surprising to learn that the lord of the Dagora Forest had held back a few plans even from Wellen. Not a betrayal, as Xabene or Asaalk might see it, but rather caution, for if the party did not know what else had been plotted, then it was doubtful anyone watching them would.

Raising a hand and slowing her mount, the enchantress cried out, "This is it! We're here!"

"Are you certain?" The blue man reined his horse to a stop. He peered around. "It all looks the same. I sense nothing, either."

"Let me look." She unrolled the tapestry. Wellen saw now another reason it was so small. Anything larger would have been c.u.mbersome and nearly impossible to study while on horseback. Xabene glanced up several times, studied the landscape, then finally nodded. "If I'm correct, we're only about fifty feet from it."

"Which way?" Like Asaalk, Wellen could not see or sense anything that told him where the citadel might be buried. If they had not had the tapestry . . .

She rolled the magical item back up and placed it in the case Lore had given them. The enchantress then pointed to a spot to the southeast. "There. It lies somewhere just in front of us." They dismounted. Bedlam experienced a sense of deja vu, save that this time he was hoping that the gnome's stronghold would reappear.