Renata
(far southern Nomadlands)

     She hung on tightly as Vega came out of teleport and circled in for a
landing at Jhezrael.  Dragons customarily landed on four legs, but Vega would
have to manage it with two since she was clutching their prisoner in her
foreclaws.  Fortunately, the woman hadn't put up a fuss...but Renata was very
surprised when her dragon informed her that their prisoner could hear and
speak to her.

     From up here, their home was all but invisible; Jhezrael, like Cleft
Warren, was burrowed deep into the mountain rocks.  But Khazeen had ordained
that this place remain a secret for as long as possible, so there was
virtually nothing of the place visible except for a few entirely natural-
looking cave entrances in the side of a sheer rockface.  But beneath that
extended a vast system of tunnels and caverns that wove their way deep
underground.  Some of these caves were small, just the size for a dragonrider
apartment; others were immense, large enough for a dragon to fly in.
Altogether, Jhezrael was a convoluted maze of tunnels which, were this place
ever attacked, would allow them to stand off even greatly superior numbers.

     But Khazeen's plans, she knew, did not include having Jhezrael coming
under attack.  For that reason, she had been sent to find out all she could
about their potential enemy - Cleft Warren.  She'd been told to capture one of
the dragonriders for questioning; he hadn't told her what he intended to do
with their prisoner, but she presumed that he or she would be returned as soon
as Khazeen and his new "partner" Vascone had learned whatever they needed to
know.  Well, their prisoner wasn't a dragonrider, or at least so she assumed -
Vega had identified the dragon they'd seen at the oasis as a male, so she was
reasonably certain that the man standing next to it had been its rider.  She
would have preferred to take him instead, but he'd been standing too close to
the dragon for Vega to have grabbed him.  Khazeen probably wouldn't be
pleased, but one had to take opportunities where one could.

     The largest of the cave entrances had a broad ledge extending out in
front of it, and this was where the dragons usually landed.  Although it was a
tricky landing, Vega managed it with scarcely a bump, for which Renata made
sure to complement her.  Vega continued to hold her prisoner upside down until
a mixed group of riders and Nomads came running out of the cave entrance.

     "Put me down!" the woman shouted.  Vega complied, releasing her grip and
letting the woman drop to the ground.

     "I didn't mean to *drop* me, you big oaf!" the Nomad said, looking
accusingly at Vega.  But Renata's attention was elsewhere, as she heard a
soft, humorless laugh from the concealing darkness of the cave. 

    And then a man stepped out into the moonlight; dressed in black leather as
always, he seemed to simply materialize out of the darkness.  Khazeen, Lord of
Jhezrael and self-proclaimed Lord of the Nomadlands.  The clustered riders,
seeing the hard look on his face, quickly backed out of his way; so too did
the Nomads who served him, but these did so with deep bows to the one who
proclaimed both himself and his dragon to be among their pantheon of deities.
She was never sure if they obeyed him so unquestioningly because they believed
his claims, or just because they were too canny to invoke his well-known
wrath.  But for whatever reason, he counted the Nomads he'd taken in his
numerous raids as his most loyal servants.

     Khazeen - not his real name, she knew - seized the Nomad woman by the
throat and lifted her off the ground, peering at her intently.  Then, still
holding her, he shifted his cold gaze over to Renata.  "What is the meaning of
this, Renata?" he demanded.  "I told you to get a Cleft dragonrider!  This
woman is a Nomad!"  He dropped the woman to the ground, and swept his gaze
around at the riders who circled him.  "Can't you idiots do *anything* right?"

     Renata clenched her fists in fury, and felt her rage overpower her.
<No!> Vega cautioned.  <You must not...>

     But she was too far gone, pushed over the edge by his words.  "I'm the
idiot now, am I?" she fumed.  "*I* wasn't the one who sent the others back to
the cave and nearly had us all captured by the Cleft riders!"

     <Renata, please!!> Vega cried.

     "You're the idiot!" she hissed.  "And I would be able to do this much
easier without your help, thank you very much!"

     <Now you've done it!> Vega moaned.  Renata, her sudden burst of temper
abated - the same temper that had led to her banishment from the warrens -
felt an icy cold go through her as she looked up into Khazeen's icy eyes.  She
cursed herself silently, knowing she'd put both herself and her dragon into
mortal danger by her open defiance.  Khazeen was utterly unpredictable in his
actions, and she knew that he was more than capable of violence - as was his
terrible dragon.

     Without warning, he struck her across the face, knocking her back against
her dragon.  It wasn't nearly as hard a blow as he could have administered,
but it was enough to stun her.  Through tearing eyes, she saw him grab the
Nomad woman by the arm and drag her off.

     <She speaks to dragons,> Vega said.  Khazeen stopped, and turned to look
back at the yellow dragon.

     "Interesting," he remarked almost to himself.   As Renata got slowly to
her feet, Khazeen spoke aloud to the woman.  "Your name, Nomad," he said
simply.

     She glared defiantly at him.  "Ankara," she told him, almost spitting the
words out.  "And that is all you shall know of me!  Why have you brought me
here?  What is this place?"

     "This is Jhezrael," he said, watching her closely to gauge her reaction.
Renata saw the woman's eyes widen.  In the belief-systems of the Nomad tribes,
that name was a dark one indeed.  Then Ankara's expression changed; clearly,
she wasn't buying it.

     "And who are you, then?" she said, sneering up at him.  "Rushela herself,
perhaps?"

     "No, my child," he told her, his tone becoming patronizing.  "But you
*do* know of me.  I am Khazeen."

     Ankara scowled, glancing around her at the other Nomads who stood nearby.
"He takes the names of our gods in vain, and you do nothing?" she demanded of
them.

     Again there was that soft, mirthless laugh.  "They know what is true," he
said.  "As you will."

     Ankara had no idea, Renata knew, of the peril she was putting herself in.
If there was one thing that was sure to set the Lord of Jhezrael off, it was
questioning his "godhood" in front of the Nomads.  He'd worked assidiously to
cultivate that image, and everyone here knew the consequences of challenging
it.  His future plans, which he'd never fully explained to her, depended
heavily on the Nomads viewing him as something more than human.  *Tell her to
be careful!* she told her dragon.

     <If I do, *he* will hear me,> Vega reminded her.  Renata didn't press the
issue, realizing that the dragon was right.

     But this time, Khazeen didn't react.  He just continued to regard Ankara
coolly.  "You are from the Cleft Warren?" he asked.

     Ankara said nothing, looking away from the black-garbed rider.  He
grasped her by the chin and forced her to look at him again.  "You have not
learned the proper respect for the gods," he mused.  "Very well...there is one
here who is well suited to teach you this."  He tightened his grasp on her
arm, and without warning flung her away from him.  She stumbled backwards, but
was kept from falling by two other Nomads who reached out and steadied her.

     "Take her to Vascone," Khazeen ordered.  "You will inform him that he may
do with her what he likes."  He held up a hand as they started to take the
prisoner away.  "But...tell him also that I will be calling for her later.
Tell him that I will expect to see her alive - and conscious."

     He stood for a moment longer, watching his servants lead the protesting
Ankara away into the depths of Jhezrael.  Then his gaze fastened upon Renata
again.  "You will report to me in my audience chamber in one hour," he said,
turning on his heel and striding back into the darkness.

(Tag Barb - I can only *imagine* what Vascone has in mind for Ankara!
*shudder*)

* * * * * * * *

     <What do you think he wants?> Vega wondered as she followed her rider
down the sloping tunnel, lit at intervals by guttering torches.

     *I don't know, love,* Renata admitted.  *I just hope I can smooth things
out.  I should have never lost my temper back there.*

     Vega snorted.  <And not only that...Zelandreth is furious that her
clutchbrother was lost back at the cavern.>

     Renata sighed.  That, she knew, would only contribute to her master's
foul mood tonight.  The queen dragon Zelandreth, and her rider Isara, were
probably the only two at Jhezrael who were safe from Khazeen's sharp temper -
and from his casual habit of dealing out violence to his followers.  He had
never, in Renata's memory, even raised his voice to the Nomad queenrider - and
he had specifically ordered Vascone to stay away from her.  She was, Renata
knew, another key element in Khazeen's long-term plans...whatever they were.

     Khazeen's "audience chamber" was a large cavern near the center of the
great cave system, at the end of a long tunnel that was wide enough for
dragons to pass through.  The semicircular entrance to the chamber itself was
barred by heavy wooden doors that were so large and heavy that each required
two strong men to push open and closed.  She saw that at the moment they stood
open.

     The guards - all Nomads - bowed slightly to her as she reached the
entrance, and motioned for her to go in.  As soon as she and Vega were inside,
the Nomads went outside and pushed the heavy doors closed.  Not a good sign,
she decided.  Vega said nothing, but she could feel her dragon's silent
agreement with this.

     The large, circular chamber was dimly lit by flickering lamps affixed to
the walls.  These revealed a second, slightly smaller entrance near the rear
of the cavern.  Toward the back of the chamber was a broad, roughly hewn dias
that thrust upward from the rocky floor, to about the level of a dragon's
head.  Curled halfway around it was the black dragon whom his master now
called Shamir, his red eyes glowing softly in the dim light.  And atop the
dias, seated in an ornate chair that had been part of the spoils of a past
raid, was the Master himself.

    "You will approach us," Khazeen said.  Renata felt another pang of fear go
through her.  Khazeen's moods changed like the weather, and when he referred
to himself using that royal "we," he tended to be at his most capricious and
dangerous.  It was at times like these that she wondered yet again if he was
beginning to actually believe in the deception that he practiced on the
Nomads, and thought himself to be one of their deities.  She wished yet again
for the old days, when their joint dream had been to found a new warren that
would take in outcasts like themselves, a place far removed from the
Dragonlady's authority.  But bit by bit the dream had been corrupted, and
lately Renata had come to wonder if that had ever been this man's intent. 

     She climbed the narrow ramp that had been built to provide access to the
dias.  'Yes, my lord," she replied.

     Khazeen glared coldly at her.  "You *questioned* us earlier, in front of
others...called us an 'idiot,' as we recall.   This cannot be tolerated."

     Renata bowed her head, knowing that submissioin was her only chance to
escape his wrath.  "No, my lord."

     Suddenly, the cold and calculating look was gone, replaced by one of
barely suppressed fury.  "Then why the hell did you do it??" he demanded,
rising from his "throne."  The sudden change in his demeanor - as well as his
return to the use the singular pronoun - didn't surprise her; with him, they
were to be expected.  "We control these people *only* because they still
aren't sure just who and what we are!  If they decide that their new master
*isn't* a god, we'll all end up getting knifed up some night!"

     Suddenly, his arm snaked out and grasped the front of her tunic.  She was
yanked roughly against him and felt the prick of a knife at her throat.
"Shall I save them the trouble, Renata?"

     Renata froze - in his present condition, Khazeen was capable of anything.
But Vega did not.  With a roar of protest, the dragon rushed forward.  <You
will NOT hurt my rider!!> she cried.

     *No, love!* Renata mindshouted through their link, but it was too late.
With surprising speed, the huge black dragon uncoiled himself from around the
dias and slammed into Vega, his greater size and weight knocking her down onto
the stone floor.  Shamir straddled her, and when Vega recovered her senses a
moment later, she found herself staring into his bared fangs.  Flames
flickered behind them, making her flinch back.

     *Vega, lie still, please!* Renata begged, the sight of her dragon's peril
making her momentarily forget her own personal danger.

     <Y-yes, my rider.> Vega replied.  Renata knew that only a show of
absolute submission could save her dragon from this creature.  For Vega, like
almost any other dragon, would hesitate for a critical moment before striking
at another dragon, even to save her own life.  But Shamir would not...Renata
had seen many times for herself how viscious the black beast was, even with
his own kind.  In that, he was like no other dragon she had ever encountered,
whether wild or joined.

     She turned her eyes back toward Khazeen.  "Please, my lord," she
whispered, "don't let him hurt her!"

     But Khazeen's eyes had already taken on that strange, vacant look that
they often did when he was communing with Shamir.  He shoved her away from
him, and staggered over to the edge of the dias where he could look down on
the two dragons.  Shamir was quivering with suppressed rage, repeatedly
darting his head forward to nip at Vega's throat, but not actually biting.
Khazeen clenched his fists, and a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.
This, too, Renata had seen before, the battle of wills between rider and
dragon.  For it was only Khazeen's willpower that kept the terrible creature
under control when the urge to kill took control of him.

     The frightening spectacle seemed to go on for an eternity, with Vega's
life hanging in the balance; had Renata believed in any gods, Nomad or
otherwise, she'd have been praying to them.  But finally, Khazeen
prevailed...with a growl of frustration, Shamir backed away from her.  Vega
slowly got to her feet, shaking with fright, and at her rider's urging moved
away so that she was standing with her back to the door.  Shamir glared after
her for a moment, then resumed his place behind the dias.

     With a sigh, Khazeen sat down heavily onto his throne.  He looked totally
drained, as he always did after one of these bouts with his dragon.  "Damn it,
Renata!" he rasped.  "Control your dragon!  If I hadn't been able to stop him
in time, there's no telling what he'd have done to her!"

     Renata nodded silently.  Her master would, if he followed the usual
pattern, be more lucid for awhile now.  "She thought you were going to kill
me," she told him.  "For a minute there, I thought she might be right.
But...thank you...for saving her."

     Khazeen waved away her thanks.  Renata knew that he *had* to control his
dragon's more destructive impulses when they were at Jhezrael, of course.
Otherwise, his followers would have long since fled this place.

     "We have a prisoner now," he said, moving on to the business at hand as
though none of the preceeding events had taken place.  "If she *is* from Cleft
Warren, as you believe, she may have information that is useful to us."

     "If Vascone leaves her alive," she said.

     "He will," Khazeen told her.  "I have ordered it.  Your dragon says she
is a telepath...that works to our advantage.  While Vascone is having his fun,
*I* will be questioning her."

     "Telepathically?" Renata asked, forcing herself to stay calm.  "Vega
seems to think that she has just come into her talent."

     Khazeen nodded.  "Which also works to our advantage.  She may provide me
with information without even realizing it."

     "And then?" she asked.  "What will you do with her?"

     Khazeen raised his eyebrows.  "Do with her? Return her to where she came
from, of course."

     "She will tell them of us."

     The man in black shrugged.  "They already know of us.  *You've* seen to
that."

     Renata felt her face burning at his rebuke.  "But she'll tell them of
Jhezrael!"

     "She does not know where this place is," he reminded her.  "And after
Vascone has finished with her, she will have a rather interesting interview
with Shamir."

     "Shamir? But he never speaks, even to other dragons..."

     "But *I* do.  And she will not know the difference."

     He stood up and walked to the edge of the dias, gazing down at his
dragon.  Shamir looked up at him, his red eyes glowing in the dim light.  "And
when she returns to Cleft, she will carry back an unbelievable story of having
spoken to the gods!  What do you think Cleft's warrenlady - whoever she is -
will make of that?"  He threw back his head and laughed.

     "What do you want me to do?" Renata asked.

     "I will call you when I am ready for you," he told her.  "You will take
the Nomad woman back, and leave her within walking distance of her warren.
You may go."

     Accustomed to such abrupt dismissals, Renata bowed to the Lord of
Jhezrael and walked back down from the dias.

     "One thing more," he told her.   She turned to look back up at him.

     "Zelandreth is quite upset that one of her clutchmates failed to return.
The others have told me what happened in that cavern...and I am also
displeased.  This swordsman who murdered him must pay for his crime."

     Khazeen reached down and picked up something and threw it down from the
dias to clatter against the stone at her feet with a metallic clang.  Renata
looked down and saw a short spear tipped with a wicked, barbed point.  "You
will bring me his head...on that!  You may leave us now."

     Renata picked up the spear and walked as quickly to the door as she
could. Vega pushed the heavy door open, and together they retreated from the
audience chamber.  Both of them breathed a sigh of relief as Khazeen's
servants closed it behind them.

NRPG:  I've never tried to write for a truly crazy person before; I hope it
wasn't *too* unbelievable. (and, no Trevor *isn't* crazy...a little offbeat at
times, but not crazy...)

Alton - r.e. your NRPG - I'll e-mail you with some of my ideas for this.

Lyn - I hope I'm not too far off in portraying the Nomads' reaction to Khazeen
and Shamir...my impression is that in their culture, it would be unthinkable
for any man to claim to be the personification of a god...which, in a
roundabout way, might lend *some* credence to his claim (i.e. since no man
would do this, perhaps he *is* something more).  But whether his Nomad
prisoners serve him for this reason or simply out of fear, has yet to be
established.  Any insights you can give me would be appreciated.

Gabrielle - I made one small amendment to your post, in that I deleted the
mention of tents...since I conceived Jhezrael as being built into a cliffside
similar to  Cleft,  there'd be no place for them.  My fault, of course, for
waiting too long to give anyone a proper description of the place...

I'll do another post over the weekend, to pick things up with Trevor and
Kellie.

Submitted by:

John

"Khazeen" and "Shamir", Jhezrael
Renata and Vega, Jhezrael