The Dwarven Rebellion

by J. J. Thompson

“Well now, here I was worried that these two would corrupt you,” Shandon said to Mel as he walked into the room. “But it looks like I should have been more worried about the reverse.”

  Jergen chortled while Mel gave the king a look of wide-eyed innocence.

  “Me, sir?” she said, fluttering her eyelashes. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Stop that,” the king growled as he sat down at the table. “It doesn't suit you.”

  Mel chuckled and settled back into her seat.

  Pieter looked at the king closely.

  “What's wrong?” he asked flatly.

  “Wrong?”

  “You can't fool me, Shandon,” the older dwarf said. “I've known you too long. What's happened?”

  Jergen's laughter died and he stared at the king.

  Shandon could only shrug.

  “Nothing's happened. Yet. I was just thinking that the future looks rather bleak at the moment, that's all.”

  He looked around the table at the others.

  “Don't let my concerns ruin the mood, please. I tend to see the darkness within the light, rather than the other way around.”

  “Spoken like a true king,” Mel told him seriously. “Pretending that things will always work out for the best is better left to poets and dreamers, my father always says.”

  “Gods, and I thought that I was the gloomy one,” Jergen said with crooked grin.

  “You are,” Pieter said as he slapped him on the shoulder.

  Shandon smiled at them and shook off his mood.

  “Well, the future is yet to come. For now, we have started well. Larin has contacted his people and arrangements are being made to bring in enough mages to counter Cindra, should she attack. And now Hallic is trying to find allies in the guild. We'll just have to be patient until he does.”

  There was a moment of silence and then Pieter stood up.

  “I'm hungry,” he stated. “It should be dinner time right about now. What say I find a servant and order us some food, eh?”

  “Excellent idea,” Shandon replied brightly. “Order enough for all of us. I'm sure that Larin will be hungry once he's done casting his spells. And I could use something solid to thin out the ale in my blood.”

  Pieter headed for the door and Shandon looked across the table at Mel.

  “Do you think that Hallic will succeed?”

  “In finding other loyalists within the guild?” she asked in surprise. “Yes, of course he will. Perhaps you aren't aware of this, sir, but my father is the de facto heir to Guildmaster Darlheim. He never asked for the position and he hates bureaucracy, but it's his if he wants it. If anyone can rally our people and retake the guild, it's him. And Pieter might have been right. The assassination of Darlheim may have been an isolated incident, rather than a full-scale takeover attempt of the guild. We'll know soon enough, I suppose.”

  Time passed slowly for Shandon and the others, but they were served a meal by several of the palace servants while they waited and that did allow them to focus on something other than their troubles for a while.

  Trays of cooked meats, fresh vegetables from the royal gardens and a variety of sweet desserts were presented on large, silver platters.

  The king directed the servants to leave the trays on one of the tables in the lounge and, when they had left, told the others to help themselves.

  “Leave something for Hallic and Larin,” he joked as Jergen began piling meat onto his plate.

  Jergen grinned.

  “There's enough food here to feed a small army,” he replied. “Besides, I'm not as hungry as Pieter seems to be.”

  The older dwarf was already walking back to his seat with a plate almost overflowing with food.

  “Here now, I'm just trying to keep up my strength,” he objected as he sat down again. “If we have to defend the king, we'll need to be in the best shape possible. I'm just doing my part, that's all.”

  Jergen rolled his eyes at the king, who grinned back.

  “Well, if it's in the name of the crown, then I can't argue, I suppose,” Shandon said, trying not to laugh. “So dig in.”

  Mel ate lightly and, when Pieter glanced at her plate with a frown, smiled back at him.

  “When I prepare for battle, I'd rather not weigh myself down,” she told him.

  “To each their own, I suppose,” the older dwarf said through a belch. “I just hope you won't fade away from lack of food.”

  “I'll be fine, thanks.”

  The group was just finishing their meal when Hallic and Larin returned to the room. The rogue looked around and raised an eyebrow.

  “Did we miss dinner?” he asked sardonically.

  Larin looked pale and Pieter motioned for him to sit down.

  “Are you well?” he asked with concern as the mage almost collapsed into his seat.

  “I am fine, sir,” Larin replied with a weak smile. “But I thank you for asking. We needed to search quite thoroughly before we reached Hallic's allies. It was a little...draining on me, that's all.”

  “And what have you learned?” Shandon asked as Hallic sat down next to Mel.

  The rogue gave his daughter a quick smile before answering.

  “Quite a bit, actually,” he replied to the king. “The situation within the guild is...complicated at the moment. I'm told that, with the death of Darlheim and my own disappearance, things are chaotic. A small faction, led by Myler Jaret, has tried to assume the leadership of the guild. Myler has declared himself guildmaster, which is not going down too well with the vast majority of members. It's a mess.”

  At the mention of Myler's name, Mel's lip curled in disgust. Shandon looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “You know this person?” he asked.

  “Unfortunately,” she replied harshly. “He's a snake. His clashes with the late guildmaster were many and he has sought to undermine guild laws many times.”

  She glanced at her father.

  “He once tried to get you expelled from the guild, did he not?” she asked him.

  Hallic chuckled humorlessly.

  “He tried, yes. Unsuccessfully, of course. Myler is an idiot,” he told Shandon. “He has a certain animal cunning and just enough charisma to gain followers even more stupid than he is. In short, he would be the perfect tool for someone like Corbin to use to destroy the rogues guild from within.”

  The king nodded as he stroked his beard.

  “Yes, of course. The weak-minded who lust for power are easily corrupted. Do you think that this fellow was responsible for the murder of Darlheim?”

  “Almost certainly,” Hallic assured him.

  He leaned forward and poured himself a glass of water from an urn sitting in the middle of the table. After taking a sip, he cleared his throat.

  “Two of my friends believe the same thing, and they are the wisest dwarves that I know, other than Darlheim himself. Myler's tenuous attempt at taking power will not last long. They will move to remove him soon, on one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  Hallic grimaced.

  “They want me to lead the counter-attack and then declare myself guildmaster.”

  He drank more water and watched as Pieter got up and walked over to the trays of food.

  “Larin, allow me to get you something to eat,” the older dwarf said. “You're practically transparent.”

  The mage smiled at the offer.

  “I appreciate that, sir,” he said. “Anything sweet will do. I need the energy, but I couldn't handle a large meal at the moment.”

  Pieter nodded and began filling a plate with an assortment of pastries.

  “You don't seem pleased by the thought of leading your guild,” Jergen said to Hallic.

  “I'm not. I hate paperwork and all that. Taking the position would also effectively end my career as a working rogue. The guildmaster may travel outside of the guild's main headquarters, as Darlheim sometimes did, but only to visit other cities on official business.”

  He frowned dow
n at his hands.

  “All of my years of training, all of my skills, will be of no use to me. For the rest of my life I'll be an administrator. Sitting like a spider in the center of its web, year after year, getting old and feeble just as Darlheim did.”

  He looked at the king.

  “It's a bleak prospect,” he added.

  Shandon looked sympathetic.

  “I understand that more than you know,” he commiserated. “A king's role is almost the same as yours will be. People seem to think that ruling is a joy. It is not, at least not to me. It is a burden and a duty, but I do not enjoy it and I doubt that you will either, Hallic.”

  Both dwarves looked equally gloomy and Mel stared at each of them for a moment before making a rude sound of disgust.

  “Oh please, cry me a river,” she scoffed at them.

  Both the king and her father looked at her with surprise.

  “Excuse me?” Hallic said.

  “Father, if you take up the mantle of guildmaster, you will be free to shape that office as you see fit. I honor the memory of Darlheim, as you know, but he was quite old when he took on the leadership. He did what he could to guide us, but he was infirm for much of his tenure.”

  She smiled at him and at Shandon.

  “You, and the king, are in the prime of your lives. You will both lead your people from positions of strength, not just as placeholders but as active and vigorous leaders. If you choose to do so, of course.”

  “Ah, your daughter is very wise,” Shandon told Hallic. He looked a little sheepish. “And she is correct. Leadership is forged from the inner steel of the person leading. I forgot that for a moment.”

  “As did I. Thank you, Mel, for your perspective,” the rogue told her. “You've made a good point.”

  He finished his water and stood up.

  “Well, the longer I put this off, the more difficult it will become. I have work to do at the guild and I'd best get on with it.”

  Pieter stared at him as he offered a plate of food to Larin.

  “You are leaving?” he asked. “Without eating something?”

  “I prefer traveling light,” Hallic replied with a grin. “My friends are waiting for me. They expect me to contact them and tell them if I will accept the position of guildmaster. I think that I'll skip that part and just meet them in person. It's time to retake my home and put the guild back on the right path.”

  Mel stood up as well.

  “I'll come with you, Father. You'll need someone you can trust watching your back.”

  Hallic hesitated and then nodded.

  “Yes, you're ready. Come along, then. Let's deal with the traitors.”

  “Do you need any help?” Shandon asked him. “I could assign a squad of warriors to accompany you.”

  Both of the rogues smiled at him.

  “Thank you, but no,” Hallic told him. “What we're about to do will require stealth, not brute strength. I appreciate the offer though.”

  “What about magical protection?” Larin asked anxiously. “If you take up the mantle of guildmaster, you may become a target of Cindra's malice, just as his majesty is. She may attempt to destroy you.”

  Hallic grinned wickedly.

  “Let her try,” he said. “There is a reason that your witch did not kill Darlheim in person, and I suspect that I know what it is. The guild headquarters has ancient protections against hostile magic. They have been in place since it was built and I believe that they are still active. I think that Cindra must have sensed those protections and is wary of them. So instead of a direct assault she, or the prince, bribed Myler and his followers to do their dirty work for them.”

  “You never mentioned these 'protections' before,” Larin said with a frown. “I sensed nothing when I was transporting your daughter to safety.”

  “The guild holds many secrets, my friend,” Hallic told the mage. “Some of them known only to a few of us. Allow us to keep ours as your people undoubtedly keep your own. But trust me, Cindra will not be a threat to me, at least not while I remain inside of the guild-house. Now we really must go.”

  “Luck go with you, Hallic,” Shandon said as he stood up and offered his hand to the rogue.

  “Thank you, my lord,” Hallic replied.

  He shook the king's hand firmly and Mel did the same.

  “We'll contact you once things are settled,” the rogue told him. “Stay safe.”

  The others added their best wishes and then Hallic and Mel left the lounge.

  Shandon sat down and picked up his tankard. He took a long drink and looked around at the others.

  “And now we wait, I suppose,” he said, sounding tired. “My least favorite part of this job.”

  “Well, at least we have some good ale to keep us company,” Pieter declared as he raised his tankard in a salute.

  The king smiled at him and Jergen chuckled.

  “It's good to know that you're keeping things in perspective,” he told the older dwarf. “Never change, old friend.”

  “I don't intend to,” Pieter replied loftily as he began to quaff his ale.

  It was late in the day, dwarven time, when Larin's apprentice Essa contacted him. Jergen and Pieter had left the king's quarters and headed for bed, but the mage and Shandon were still sitting together in the lounge. They spoke quietly about many things: politics, the public's view of magic and mages in general, even the king's late father. Both dwarves were developing a closer relationship with each other and gaining a mutual comfort with the other's company. It would stand them in good stead going forward.

  Shandon was drinking ale slowly, pensively staring across the room and remembering better times, while Larin refilled his own glass with water. He was re-reading a list that he had written on a large piece of parchment when Essa's voice began to sound above their heads.

  “Elder Larin?”

  The mage put down the parchment and smiled in response.

  “Ah Essa, there you are. How have things been going?”

  “They have gone well, Elder. I have found five of the strongest of our people to join you in protecting the king. They are here with me now and are ready to Gate to you when you give the word.”

  Larin glanced at the king, who put down his tankard and nodded.

  “Let them come, my friend,” he said jovially. “I am eager to meet my newest bodyguards.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  The mage stood up and moved to the center of the room.

  “Essa? This is the best spot for our friends to Gate to. There is enough room for them to come in together, rather than one at a time. Are they ready?”

  “Yes Elder. Please step away and they will be with you shortly.”

  Larin rejoined the king and the two of them stood back and waited. Shandon had never seen anyone actually use a Gate spell and he watched with keen interest.

  There was a low thump of displaced air and the tables and chairs in the lounge rattled in response. Both of the watchers were pushed back several inches by an invisible shock wave and then five robed figures appeared in the middle of the room.

  The mages were surrounded by a semi-transparent globe of energy and the king looked at it curiously. Larin noticed this and smiled at him.

  “A shield,” he told Shandon. “Standard procedure when Gating. You never know what you will find on the other side when you transport yourself through the Void.”

  “The Void? When you Gate, you pass through the Void?” the king asked in surprise.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “It is.”

  Larin walked toward the other mages as the shield flickered and disappeared, leaving behind a faint scent of ozone.

  “Welcome to the palace, my friends. Thank you for volunteering for this.”

  “How could we say no to the king and our patriotic duty?” one of the mages, an older woman, replied.

  She and the others bowed respectfully to Shandon, who nodded in return.


  “Allow me to thank you as well,” he told the group. “I apologize for this. I know that you are busy with your studies and research and I want you to know that all of you will have your own quarters so that you will have the privacy you need to continue your work.”

  “That is very generous, your majesty,” the female mage replied warmly. “My name is Odella. This is Khara, Josper, Hadd and Walkar. We are honored to offer our services to the crown for as long as you need them. Essa has explained the situation and I for one would like to apologize for the threat to you from one of our own.”

  Odella seemed to be quite old. Her face was crisscrossed with deep lines and her hair was pure white. But she stood erect with no hint of weakness and barely leaned on the long thin metal staff in her left hand.

  “Cindra is an abomination,” she added, her voice clipped and cold. “We should have locked her away in a deep cell when we had the chance, but we did not. Now we are paying the price for our folly.”

  She looked at her fellows, several of them motioning for her to continue.

  “We have all sworn to defend you to the best of our abilities. We will not allow the crown to fall to Cindra and your son, I give you my word on that.”

  Larin remained silent but his pride in his fellow mages was obvious.

  Shandon smiled at the group.

  “I appreciate that,” he told them. “Larin has been working on a schedule while we've been waiting for you. I bow to his expertise in this. Please speak with him while I summon someone to take you to your quarters.”

  The group bowed again and Shandon left the room.

  “Thank you all,” Larin told the mages. “I know that you've had to come on short notice and...”

  “We know how desperate this situation is, old friend,” Odella said, interrupting him. “Don't give it another thought. Simply tell us when you need us and we will serve.”

  The group gathered around Larin and he showed them the schedule.

  Each mage would take an eight hour shift, protecting the king both day and night. Larin had wanted six of them, including himself, so that none of the magic-users would have to work more than once every other day. That way they would remain fresh and alert while on duty. The others approved.