"What of a siege?" Alador turned to follow Sordith up the stairs.

Sordith chuckled, then answered with clear amus.e.m.e.nt. "One day, I will give you a true tour of the trench. The trench contains entrances to mines. When a vein is exhausted, the excavated s.p.a.ce is used for storage. There are hundreds of such s.p.a.ces below the city, even below your own mined caverns of the Blackguard."

Sordith led them through the streets towards the next set of steps up. Alador fell quiet as he eyed the streets above them. He eyed the bridge that Owen had mentioned as they pa.s.sed it. Sordith was busy making an obvious presence as he moved down the street, leaving Alador free to muse. He realized, as they moved up the tiers, that the only way he was ever going to get to Luthian in a battle was either by surprise or from above.

The only way he was ever going to have a hope of gaining access from above was to make peace with the dragons. If he could get the dragons to work with the Daezun, they could win this war that Luthian was planning. He sighed in despair. He had two major problems to overcome before such a battle could take place. He was as good as dead to the Daezun, and he had shot the one dragon he could approach.

Alador was so lost in thought that he tripped on the stairs to the fourth tier. He sprawled out behind Sordith, cursing as pain shot through his knee. Sordith stopped to give him a hand up. He rubbed his knee, chastising himself for not watching where he was going.

"Perhaps you venture out too soon?" Sordith's query held genuine concern.

"I was lost in thought, not weak," Alador grumbled, dusting himself off.

Sordith nodded to his hood that had slipped back as he spoke. "Well then, mind your step. We are almost there." Sordith set off again.

Alador swiftly pulled the hood back down. Now more aware of their surroundings, he noted that while at the lower levels Sordith had been revered, almost doted upon, this was not the case as they moved across the quieter fourth tier. While the mages moved out of his way, there were condescending glances and a clear indication of dislike. Reflexively, Alador moved his hand to his sword hilt, as did Owen; he felt the tension mounting as the air around them seemed to grow discernibly colder.

"Sordith, it seems to me that it wouldn't take too much start a civil war within this city, would it?" He made sure none but the other two could hear him. Maybe turning the Lerdenians inward on themselves would work to weaken Luthian's hold. Alador considered this possibility as he waited for Sordith's answer.

Sordith also checked that no one could hear them before he answered. "You would think so." He shrugged. "But the magic in the fourth and fifth tiers, combined with the power of The Council, keeps the city in balance." He waited for a mage to pa.s.s before continuing.

"Occasionally there have been riots, but to be honest, it's the lower tiers that suffer. That's the reason for my position; not only am I a warden of the goods provided to the city, but I also keep the peace amongst those that live in the lower tiers. It is the lower tiers that pay with their lives, not the upper tiers." Sordith's answer was hard with clear resentment. He eyed a woman in a window who responded by slamming her shutters closed.

Alador thought about this as they walked through the quiet streets of the fourth tier. "...because they cannot access the upper tiers without great cost, because of limited entries?"

"And now you understand the layout of Silverport," came the sarcastic answer.

"So it is a method of separating cla.s.ses as well as of defense," Alador mused aloud.

"Lerdenians are a proud and elite race," Sordith answered as he led the way to the stairs up to the fifth tier.

Owen grinned from ear to ear. "Because we ARE elite. We hold the power of dragons and the swords of the G.o.ds themselves."

His boast brought a growl of anger from Alador that stopped Sordith in his tracks. Sordith spun and stepped between the two, catching the eyes of his suddenly furious brother. "Easy Al, Owen's just saying what he's been taught." He put a hand on the mage's chest and pushed Alador backwards to further draw his attention.

"He has been taught wrong," Alador snarled as Sordith caught his hand preemptively.

Sordith winced as the build up of power sent a surge of current through him. "Control yourself before you draw the eyes of Luthian's men," he whispered behind gritted teeth, his tone firm and commanding.

Alador glanced up to see that indeed, the two blackguards at the top of the stairs were definitely watching them. He forced the surge of feral anger away, and the power slowly subsided. Sordith let go of his hand, tossing his arm away angrily.

Owen's eyes were large and held confusion. "What'd I say?"

Sordith spun to Owen, and Alador noted his eyes were cold and hard as he snarled at the henchman: "I will explain later. This is neither the time nor place." He strode on up the stairs, forcing both men to follow him.

Alador made a point of ignoring Owen. The oaf honestly believed that he belonged to some superior race because they raped and pillaged the very blood of dragons, harvesting them like a crop in a field. If this was what Lerdenian small ones were taught, no wonder they were arrogant.

If there was a superior race, it was the dragons who had not sought to destroy every Lerdenian city. Alador did not understand why the huge beasts did not rain fire and acid down upon the arrogant Lerdenian people. If he were in charge of the dragons, he would destroy every last glistening stone in the Lerdenian crafted piles.

"Then we would be no better than those that attack us."

The thought - voice - brought Alador to a halt. He glanced around to discover who had said it. He realized that it was the same tone and feeling he had experienced right before he had shot the red dragon, Keensight.

'Are you in me?' he thought to himself. Sordith's question was such a thing possible? - had made him wonder. There was no answer, and he felt suddenly stupid. He realized he was lagging behind and hurried to catch up.

He stared at Sordith's boots as they moved onto the fifth tier. If any were to recognize him, it would be here. So watching Sordith's boots let him stay somewhat indiscernible, but also allowed him to think. Was it true? If the dragons retaliated, would it make them no better? He did not think so. At some point, one had rise up and defend against the tyranny of others. He was so lost in these thoughts that he almost walked into Sordith when he came to a halt.

Alador looked up to see his father's door. He took a deep breath to brace himself and let it out slowly. Henrick had lied to him at every turn, and yet he could not get Mesiande home or speak to Keensight without the mage's help. He saw no alternative.

"Owen, stand guard here. Noone is to enter till I return, and I mean no one." Sordith glanced over at his second and his firm command brooked no argument.

Owen merely nodded and saluted across his chest before turning to face the path from the doorway. He stood feet planted and arms crossed. Alador grinned. He would not want to take Owen on in a sword fight, but even more so, he would not want to take him on in a battle of fisticuffs. He was fairly sure Owen could put him out with a single punch.

Alador inwardly braced himself and opened the door. He knew it was unlikely that Henrick had barred him access. The servants were mysteriously nowhere to be seen as the two men made their way into the hall, their footsteps echoing loudly off the pristine floors.

Alador led the way to Henrick's favorite room, the only one in the house with any true warmth. As he opened the door to the library, the familiar heat met the cold of the hallway. Alador had not knocked and stepped into the room as if it was his own, more out of habit than intent. Sordith followed and Alador heard him shut the door behind him.

Alador spotted Henrick sprawled out before the fire. He had one booted leg over a chair arm and he was crooked in the opposite corner of the chair. His other leg was outstretched towards the fire. The mage was staring into the fire, drink in his hand.

"h.e.l.lo Henrick," Alador firmly called out.

Henrick looked over then staggered to his feet nearly spilling his drink in the process. "Ahhh look, the angry son returns." The mage was dressed in a simple dressing gown. Henrick's hair was unkempt, and as he staggered to his feet to speak. Alador realized that the man was deeply in his cups. He had never seen Henrick out of control before and stood staring at him. Now he had no idea what to say, as he had never dealt with Henrick in such a state.

Sordith stepped beside Alador and with a great deal of amus.e.m.e.nt, stated aloud for both. "Ah, the gauntlets are already tossed, and Henrick has a head start on the wine." Sordith eyed the table at the side of Henrick's chair. The wine decanter held only a third of the liquid that had once filled its confines.

"I will have you know I am quite reasonable." He gave an exaggerated bow and stumbled as he came up. Somehow, he did not spill the contents of his cup. "Come, have some drinksh." Henrick indicated the bottle to his left, though it took a second or two for him to hone in on it.

Alador sighed softly. "I need him sober." He turned and moved to the bell pull.

A servant swiftly opened the door in response. "Yes, Lord Guldalian?" The servant bowed low.

"Yesh, bring more wine. A lot more wine." Henrick shouted out his command.

Alador moved closer to the servant, murmuring in low tones. "Bring tea, lots of it, and food," Alador commanded. "Don't bring more wine." He looked at the servant then to Henrick. The servant followed his gaze and nodded indicating he understood. He repeated the bow and left.

Meanwhile, Henrick had staggered over to Sordith and put an arm around his shoulder. "That boy ish really depressing to be around." He took another drink of his wine.

Sordith laughed and helped Henrick towards his chair. "Yes, he does have a rather serious manner. Didn't you ever teach the boy to have a bit of fun?"

Henrick just shrugged and downed his gla.s.s before he spoke. "Tried... Boy doeshn't have a nounce of joviality in him." He moved unsteadily back to his chair and flopped haphazardly into it.

"That's not true," Alador defended with a frown as he moved back to the two men.

Sordith eyed them both and sat down in a nearby chair. "I would have to agree with your father. When did you last do something just for fun?"

Alador blushed and stammered, "Well... There ... Um."

Both Henrick and Sordith laughed heartily. "Besides that Alador... No man would deny that pleasure," Sordith pointed out.

Alador realized that he could not think of anything since he had left Smallbrook. Well, nothing apart from being in Keelee's arms. With a deep red hue and a clear tone of embarra.s.sment, he crossed his arms. "Whether I do anything 'just for fun' is not the point," he snapped.

Henrick's eyes appeared to sober for a brief moment as his soft-spoken answer seemed to shout across the room. "I would shay that's exactly the point." His eyes held Alador's for a long moment. He tried to take a drink and realized his cup was empty. "I need more wine."

Chapter Nine.

It took three pots of tea, Sordith telling stories, and a couple of walks on the terrace before Henrick had sobered up enough to hold a rational conversation. Fortunately, Sordith was quite adept at making Henrick laugh with tales of the n.o.bility, as well as some of the things he had secretly observed. Alador watched and waited. He had removed himself from the conversation, having only one purpose for being here.

He used the time to consider his situation. Mostly, he dwelled on Henrick's statement about not having any fun being the point. Now that he had thought about it, there had been moments of enjoyment. His favorite was the day he had upset Luthian at the pool in the High Minister's garden. However, despite these brief moments of amus.e.m.e.nt, he wanted to go to a home he no longer had. How could he find happiness for himself and Mesiande within his current reality? A part of him longed to go back to the small glade he had dreamed about when he had been ill. When he thought about it even now, it had seemed so real.

He continued his internal review as Sordith and Henrick bantered about which dragon was truly the deadliest. Reality...? What was truly his reality? He was a mage who did not want to be one. Worse, he was in love with a woman he could not bring here. He lived in a city where he could not really trust anyone. Well, that was not quite true, because he trusted Sordith and Jon. He really needed to speak to Jon soon.

However, the truth was that reality was not leading to any happiness. Yet, he thought, railing against his own reality was doing nothing to improve it. If he did not learn to accept his situation, then both Henrick and Sordith were right: he would never be truly happy.

He groaned and placed his head in his hands as if trying to rub away the thoughts that plagued him. This drew the attention of the other two men. He looked up to find them both looking at him. "What?"

Henrick must have sobered enough, because, rather than the easy banter of the last hour, he turned his attention to Alador with more seriousness. "Why are you here?" he gently queried. "You made your position quite clear in our last conversation."

Alador sighed. "I was angry and confused. I spoke rashly," he admitted.

"So you didn't mean the things you uttered?" Henrick pressed, a hopeful look on his face as he leaned towards Alador.

Alador met his gaze evenly, his eyes hard as the anger surged within him. "Oh, I meant them. I just shouldn't have said them."

"That is hardly an apology," Henrick pointed out.

"I'm not apologizing," Alador reb.u.t.ted.

Sordith shook his head at Alador and spoke softly. "Sometimes you are too d.a.m.n honest."

"And you not enough so," Alador snapped as he looked at his brother.

Sordith pointed at himself. "Rogue, thief, Trench Lord... Not in my job description." He winked at Alador.

Henrick looked between the two men. "Am I missing something here?"

"Yes," Alador answered.

"No," Sordith snapped out at the same time. He flashed Alador a warning look.

"If I am going to do this, if I am going to stick this out, I want all truths on the table," Alador stated. He met Sordith's gaze evenly until Sordith looked away. "Tell him."

Henrick looked at Sordith. "Tell me what?"

"I should have left you to Aorun," Sordith snarled, clearly unhappy as he crossed his arms and set his jaw.

"Yes, well, you didn't." Alador did not move from his tense position in the chair. His feet and shoulders were squared, though he had not stood. His eyes held Sordith's in clear challenge.

Henrick looked between them both curiously. "Someone want to tell me whatever it is that you two are arguing about?" Henrick clearly did not like being in the dark.

"Fine!" Sordith snapped as he glared daggers at Alador. Finally, he looked at Henrick. He stood up and bowed low. "I have already presented myself to you as the Trench Lord of Silverport. It seems I am now to present myself as Sordith Guldalian, your b.a.s.t.a.r.d son."

Henrick stared at Sordith open mouthed for a long moment. He finally closed his mouth and shook his head. "By the G.o.ds, surely you must be mistaken?"

"I don't think he is," Alador stated. "When you stand side by side, I can see the resemblance."

Henrick rose up and went to the mirror to look at himself then at Sordith, then back to the mirror. "Why did I not know of you?" He sounded more worried that surprised.

"My mother chose not to tell you, and would not give me your name." Sordith was watching Henrick closely. "I knew only that he was a fire mage of an upper tier and that he was good-looking. My mother's name was Sadira Sammler. She would have been young and overly willing. She had long hair that was the color of a burnished nut." Sordith looked at Henrick. "Does any of that jog your memory?" He sounded hopeful.

"Sadira... Sadira..." Henrick moved into the fire to gaze in to it. "I DO remember her. Lovely girl, and as you said, remarkably compliant. I took a fairly long sea voyage after we... had enjoyed each other's company for a short while, and when I returned, I must admit, I never got round to seeing her again." Henrick turned to look at Sordith.

Alador was relieved that his father had at least acknowledged the probability of paternity, but at the same time he was incensed that his father could use a woman and toss her to the side with so little concern. He did not speak, knowing this was a moment Sordith had been hoping to have. Again, he wondered just how many siblings might be trailing in his father's wake.

"My mother made me promise not to hold it against you. She admitted the fault was hers and that you did not know of my birth." Sordith moved to his father's side. "I have searched for many turns, and were it not for Alador, I would have never considered a Guldalian as a possible parent. I did not think my mother would have aimed so high."

"It was not so high at the time," Henrick admitted as he considered this new turn of events. "I was a fourth tier mage, and Luthian was in the limelight so much in those days that few took note of his quieter, less talented, younger brother." Henrick suddenly brightened. "This is a cause for celebration! Let me have a keg brought up and we shall drink to this revelation."

Both Sordith and Alador hastily shouted "No!" at the same time. Henrick looked at them confused.

"This is not the reason we are here, and we just got you sober enough to reason with," Alador hurriedly pointed out.

"Then why are you here?" Henrick turned to look at Alador. His tone held an edge of hurt.

"I need you to do a couple of things," Alador admitted.

"Not apologizing, meant what you said... and you want me to do a couple of things?" This clearly amused Henrick.

"Yes," Alador stood up. "As much as I hate it, only you can do them."

"Admit you need me," Henrick pressed. His eyes held Alador's in challenge.

Alador bristled and his face began to redden. Sordith stepped forward and put a hand on Henrick's arm. "He has been rather volatile since he woke up. I think that d.a.m.n dragon lives within him. I wouldn't push it"

Henrick turned towards the rogue. "You are asking me to help this impudent pup the ingrate whose life I have now saved TWICE?" Henrick looked at Sordith as his rogue of a newly discovered son let go of his arm. Henrick pointed at Alador, not looking at him. "The boy is hard-headed, ungrateful and spoiled."