The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

in the absence of his heir I have been elected regent?” Krej’s face was heated, growing nearly as red as his hair.
    “But I am missing no longer, cousin.” Darville stepped from his hiding place. His strong left hand rested on the hilt of his sword. His other hand lingered near a pocket as he moved close to the dais. Though not richly made, his clothes were respectable, and the prince’s very regal bearing left no doubt as to his identity.
    The ambassadors shifted uneasily. They looked from their host to the newcomer, unsure of where to place their allegiance.
    “You might as well be.” Krej was standing now. “You’ve been away for several moons with no explanation, no regard for the welfare of Coronnan. You’ve allowed your father’s health to fail through your unconcern. And now that I have things under control, you’ve decided to return.” His hand waved to the guards who lined the walls. They began to move slowly forward.
    “You should know precisely where I was, cousin. For ’twas you who lured me away, and you who allowed a rogue magician to entrap me into the guise of a golden wolf.” Baamin and Jaylor had agreed beforehand that they could not accuse Krej of rogue magic without visible proof. Hopefully Krej would supply that proof before the night was over.
    Noble guests looked carefully around for signs of any rogue. Some made the cross of the Stargods, others crossed their wrists and flapped their hands in an older gesture against evil. Three cowering women did both. Baamin could hardly think over the babble of frightened whispers. That suited him fine. The prince was handling the situation quite nicely.
    “The last time I saw you, Lord Krej, I was ensorcelled in the guise of a golden wolf, familiar to a witchwoman, who just happens to be your illegitimate daughter.” Stunned and superstitious silence met that announcement.
    Baamin silently applauded the young prince for linking his recent captor with Krej. The witchwoman probably kept the enchanted wolf in hiding on her father’s orders.
    At that moment a small bundle of multicolored fur chose to race and bound through the great hall. Baamin recognized the cat from Yaakke’s report. He called her Mica. A suitable name considering her nearly iridescent fur.
    Mica made a show of circling Darville’s legs, while yowling her displeasure over something. The prince ignored her.
    “Get that cat out of here!” Krej jerked back from the edge of the table just as Mica leaped from the dais to the table. She spat at him with incredible disdain but did not linger near the Lord Regent. Instead she sauntered to the ambassador, sniffed his hand, licked it and began to purr so loud Baamin could hear it half a room away.
    “This cat,” the ambassador’s face lit with a mighty grin, “where did she come from?” He stroked her fur with lingering affection.
    Krej continued to lean away from the cat’s presence. “It’s just a cat. There are numerous ones about to catch mice.” Not likely, judging from Krej’s dislike, or fear, of this one.
    “The cat came with me,” Darville interrupted.
    “She is near duplicate of our princess’s pet, such unusual fur. The cat was much beloved but disappeared some time ago. Princess Rossemikka has mourned the loss ever since.” The ambassador’s attention was now on the prince.
    Baamin continued to watch Krej for signs of trickery. “A gift of this cat to the Princess Rossemikka would be a suitable token for one who seeks alliance,” the second ambassador suggested.
    “NO!” Krej bellowed, but not at this suggestion. His eyes narrowed to angry slits, his face paled to the color of the table cover. “He can’t. I won’t let him rob me of my treasure!” The Lord Regent jerked to his feet unsteadily. “Guards, into the great hall. Kill the intruders!”
    Hastily, Baamin threw a magic barrier across the archway. No one must interfere with Jaylor.
    But Darville was faster. His right hand flung something into Krej’s face. “Poison! The prince has poisoned me,” the Lord Regent screamed in pain. He clawed at his face with desperate hands. His breath rattled and gasped.
    “Go to Jaylor, quickly!” Darville commanded Baamin as he drew his sword. “I’ll hold off the guards as long as I can.” Already the prince’s sword slashed and grappled with the soldiers seeking to defend their lord.
     
    “Is Shayla still alive?” Jaylor whispered.
    Brevelan nodded. “Just barely.”
    Jaylor began