Выбрать главу

The metallic dragons, who had thus far remained out of the war, were starting to grow uneasy, to think perhaps they had made a mistake. If Paladine’s powerful dragons of gold and of silver entered the war on the side of Light, the red and blue dragons and the green and black and white would be in serious trouble. Takhisis needed to conquer Ansalon immediately, before the metallic dragons entered the fray; before the armies of Light, now divided, came to their senses and formed alliances; before the Knights of Solamnia found a hero.

“I will make a bargain with you, Takhisis,” said Lord Soth.

The Queen’s dark eyes flared in anger. She was not accustomed to making bargains. She was accustomed to giving commands and to being obeyed. She had to swallow her anger, however. Her most effective weapon was terror, and its cutting edge was blunted and useless against the death knight who had lost everything and thus feared nothing.

“What is your bargain?”

“I cannot serve someone I do not respect,” said Lord Soth. “Therefore I will pledge my loyalty and my army to the Highlord who has the courage to spend the night alone in Dargaard Keep. Or rather, let us say, the Highlord who survives a night alone in Dargaard Keep. This Highlord must do so freely, not under duress from you or anyone else,” Lord Soth added, knowing how the goddess’s mind worked.

Takhisis glared at the death knight in silence. If she had not needed him, he would have been crushed in the coils of her fury, torn apart by the claws of her rage, and devoured in the maw of her hatred.

But she needed him, and he did not need her.

“I will bear your message to my Highlords,” said Takhisis at last.

“The lord must come alone,” Soth repeated, “and not under duress.”

Takhisis did not deign to respond. She turned her back on him and swept into the darkness over which she ruled, leaving him to listen again and yet again to the bitter song of his tragic life.

1

Grag reports to the Emperor. The Blue Lady receives a shock

Late autumn and the leaves, their colors once bold and defiant, were dead, their brittle brown corpses scattered by the winds to lie upon the ground, waiting to be mercifully buried beneath the coming winter snows.

Winter was almost upon Ansalon, and with it would come the end of the campaign season. Takhisis’s forces under the leadership of Emperor Ariakas occupied much of Ansalon—from Nordmaar in the west to Kalaman in the east, Goodlund in the north to Abanasinia in the south. He had plans for conquering the rest of Ansalon, and Queen Takhisis was impatient for him to act on those plans. She wanted him to push on with the war, but she was told this was not possible. Armies cannot march on snow-choked roads. Supply wagons tumble down ice-rimed cliffs or get bogged down on rain-wet trails. Better to wait until spring. Winter was a time to hunker down and rest and heal the wounds of autumn’s battles. Her armies would emerge in the spring, strong and rejuvenated.

Ariakas assured her, however, that just because her soldiers were not marching, the war was still being waged. Dark and secret schemes and plots were in the works. Once Takhisis heard this, she felt better.

The dragonarmy’s soldiers, pleased with their recent victories, occupied the conquered towns and cities, lived in the comfort and warmth of captured castles, and enjoyed the spoils of war. They commandeered the grain from the barns, took any woman they fancied, and ruthlessly killed those who tried to protect property and family. The soldiers of Takhisis would live well this coming winter, while those under the claws of the dragon faced starvation and terror.

But not all was going well for the emperor.

He had been planning to spend the winter in his headquarters in Sanction when he had received disturbing reports that his campaign in the west was not going as intended. The goal had been to wipe out the elves of Qualinesti and then to seize and occupy the dwarven kingdom of Thorbardin by year’s end. First there came word that Verminaard, Dragon Highlord of the Red Army, who had conducted such a brilliant campaign in the land of Abanasinia, had met an untimely death at the hands of his own slaves. Then came the news that the Qualinesti elves had managed to escape and flee into exile. Then the emperor was informed that Thorbardin was lost.

This was the first real setback the dragonarmies had suffered, and Ariakas was forced to travel across the continent to his headquarters in Neraka to find out what had gone wrong. He ordered the commander currently in charge of the fortress of Pax Tharkas to come to Neraka to make his report. Unfortunately, there was some confusion over who was in charge now that Verminaard was dead.

A hobgoblin—one Fewmaster Toede—claimed the late Verminaard had made him second in command. Toede was packing his bags for the trip when word reached the hob that Ariakas was in a towering rage over the loss of Thorbardin and that someone was going to be made to pay. At this, the Fewmaster suddenly remembered he had urgent business elsewhere. He ordered the draconian commander of Pax Tharkas to report to the Emperor, then Toede promptly decamped.

Ariakas moved into his quarters in the military headquarters in Neraka, capital city of the Dark Queen’s empire, and awaited the arrival of the commander with impatience. Ariakas had valued Verminaard and the emperor was angered at the loss of such a skilled military commander. Ariakas wanted answers and he expected this Commander Grag to provide them.

Grag had never been to Neraka before, but he did not plan to take in the sights. Other draconians had warned him that their kind were not welcome in the city, though “their kind” were giving up their lives to help the Dark Queen win her war. Grag did see what he’d wanted to see and that was the Dark Queen’s Temple.

When Istar had been destroyed by the gods, Takhisis had taken the foundation stone of the Kingpriest’s temple and carried it to a high plain in the Khalkist mountains. She placed the stone in a wooded glade and slowly the temple began to grow around it. She was secretly using the temple as a gate through which to travel to the world when her gate was inadvertently slammed shut by a young man named Berem, and his sister, Jasla.

Coming upon the foundation stone, Berem was entranced by the jewels adorning it and he wanted to pry one loose. His sister, Jasla, sensed the evil in the gems and sought to prevent him. Berem grew angry. He dug out the stone, and when Jasla tried to stop him, he shoved her from him. She fell, striking her head on the stone, and died. The green gem fused to Berem’s chest and he was fused to that point in time. He could not die. He did not age. Horrified at his crime, he fled.

When Takhisis next went to leave the Abyss through the gate, she found the good spirit of Jasla had entered the foundation stone, there to await the return of her repentant brother. Takhisis was barred. Only her avatar could now walk Krynn, thus greatly reducing her power to affect world events. But she foresaw a greater danger to herself. If Berem returned and joined with his sister, the gate would slam shut and she would be forever barred from the world. The only way to reopen the gate and ensure it stayed open was to find Berem and slay him. Thus began the search for the Green Gemstone Man.

The temple continued to grow around the foundation stone that was buried far beneath it. The temple was now an immense structure, dominating the land all around it, visible from miles away. Its walls twisted and distorted, it looked much like a claw thrust up out of the earth, trying to snag heaven. Grag considered it impressive and he paid his reverence to it, albeit from a distance.

Commander Grag did not have to enter the city proper to make his way to the Blue Army’s barracks where Ariakas had established his headquarters, and that was fortunate for the draconian. The city’s narrow streets were clogged with people, most of them human, with no love for the likes of Grag. He would have been in a fight before he walked a block. He kept to the byways and even then ran into a slaver leading a clanking row of chained slaves to market, who said something to his companion in a loud voice about slimy “lizard-men,” adding that they should crawl back into the swamp out of which they’d emerged. Grag would have liked to have broken the man’s neck, but he was already late and he kept walking.