“This will work out just fine,” Khara, the only other female mage, said as she read the parchment. “You are very clever, Larin.”
He smiled at her.
“Thank you, but to be honest the schedule is a bit selfish on my part. I'm trying to pierce the mystery of Groll's System of Magical Transformation and I value the time I will have to study it.”
There were several groans from the others.
“Gods, Larin, why bother with that old tome?” Walkar asked.
He was the shortest of the mages and completely bald. His brown beard was twisted into one large braid and it hung down to his waist. Perhaps to make up for his lack of hair, Walkar wore a dozen rings on his fingers and two gold earrings in each ear. He looked quite garish in the company of the other mages.
“We've studied Groll's work for years,” he continued. “And it still seems to be gibberish.”
Larin shook a finger at him.
“There is something there, Walkar. I know there is. And I intend to decode it. It's tantalizingly close now.”
“You've always been a dreamer,” Odella teased him. “But it's one of the reasons that we are so fond of you, I suppose.”
The king walked back into the room at that moment, Falder the seneschal at his back.
“Good news,” Shandon said to the group. “Falder was just arriving as I was about to send for him. He is prepared to take you all to your quarters when you are ready to get settled in.”
The seneschal politely bowed to the mages.
“Thank you,” Larin replied to the king. “I will remain with you, your majesty, for this first shift. Odella will take over for me and so on from there.”
“Excellent,” Shandon said. “I hope that the snoring coming from my bedchamber doesn't bother you too much,” he added with a grin.
The group laughed in response and Odella stepped forward.
“We will all be fine, your majesty,” she told the king. “And we are ready to go whenever you are, sir seneschal.”
The king was frowning as he looked at the mages.
“Did none of you bring any luggage?” he asked them. “You may be stuck here in the palace for a long time, you know.”
Larin nodded to Odella, who smiled gently at Shandon.
“We can summon anything we will need as we need it, your majesty. We are able to travel light because of that.”
“Ah, that's interesting. And convenient. Very well. Falder, please take our guests to their quarters.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
Falder bowed to the mages again.
“If you will all come with me, please?” he said to them.
“I'll be back in a few hours,” Odella told Larin as the others began to file out of the room. “I know that you've had a busy day and could use some rest.”
Larin looked at her gratefully.
“Thank you, but I'm fine. Get settled in and relax. I will see you in the morning.”
Once the room was empty again, Shandon and Larin sat down and looked at each other across the table.
“Before I turn in,” the king said, “I want you to know that Falder has left instructions for one of his pages to be available to you at all times. If you need refreshment or anything else, just ask. He or she will be stationed outside along with the guards all night.”
“That is most kind, your majesty,” Larin replied, “but I do not want to put anyone out.”
Shandon chuckled and shook his head.
“You aren't,” he replied. “The pages will relieve each other every few hours, so it isn't a very odious assignment. Besides, they are all the sons and daughters of courtiers, trying to curry favor with me. It will be good for them to actually do some real work for a change.”
Both of them laughed at his remark and then Shandon stood up.
“I'm going to retire, my friend. Have a good night and again, thank you for doing this.”
“Sleep well, your majesty,” Larin said as he rose to his feet respectfully.
Shandon walked out of the lounge and the mage waited until he heard the door of the bedchamber close. Then he began chanting quietly, gesturing fluidly with both hands.
“Invectis,” he murmured, invoking the spell.
Larin felt his magical wards settle over the royal chambers and he sighed and sat down again.
Now, no matter how talented she might be, Cindra will not be able to see the king or probe for his whereabouts without disturbing my warding, he thought. And if she does; well then, we'll see.
Chapter 11
“Where are they?”
Hallic and Mel were back home, deep inside of the guild headquarters. They had slipped past the watchers, something that most members of the guild thought was impossible, and had made it to a friend's quarters undetected. Now they were huddled together with a dozen other rogues, discussing their strategy to retake the guild.
“Where are Myler and his lackeys?” Hallic asked his childhood friend, Rendin Foss.
Rendin, a slim, agile dwarf who sported a short black beard and wore a gold earring in his left ear, grinned at Hallic.
“The dolt and his cronies are lolling about in Darlheim's quarters as if they own the place. Can you believe that? A few of them are standing guard outside of it, but they're mostly drunk. I'm surprised that one or more of them haven't fallen into the depths.”
Hallic narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He looked around at the other rogues, all of whom were dressed in black and watching him eagerly.
“Wait a moment,” he said harshly. “You're telling me that, what, a dozen traitors have taken over the guild? Just like that? And that no one's done anything about it? What in the Seven Hells have you been waiting for?”
“You,” one of the rogues said simply.
“She's right,” Rendin said with a nod. “Look, Hallic, you know how the guild is. Most of us go about our business independent of the guildmaster and the higher-ups. The masters like you set the rules and all that, and then just let us get on with it. With Darlheim dead, there's a leadership vacuum. One thing that Myler did that was clever was put it out that Darlheim had died in his sleep and asked him to take over as leader.”
“And our people believe that?” Mel asked incredulously.
“Some of them do. The others are waiting to see what the masters will do. Specifically you,” Rendin told Hallic.
Hallic rubbed his eyes and sighed. He knew that his friend was telling the truth. Rogues were, by their very nature, independent people. The guild trained them to think for themselves and, while most were loyal to it, they were not necessarily a cohesive group. And because of that, it seemed that he would have to sort out this situation himself.
“I think that we'll have to adjust the training for future members of the guild,” he told Mel and the others. “I'm all in favor of free thinkers, but allowing a traitor to take over and then sitting on the sidelines waiting to see what happens is taking it too far. Rendin, and the rest of you, you could have cleaned out that nest of spiders an hour after they'd killed Darlheim. You do realize that whatever secrets that the guildmaster had filed away could have already been passed along to Corbin and his henchmen, don't you?”
There were a lot of embarrassed looks from the group and Rendin nodded.
“Aye, I've thought of that. But Hallic, a few of our people did try to reach Myler. They failed.”
Mel frowned at him.
“They failed to take out a few drunken guards? Why? What happened?” she asked.
“I'm not sure. Nixil was watching though. Ask him.”
Hallic turned to look at a very young dwarf who was standing back against one wall, watching the proceedings quietly. His beard was still mostly wisps of fine hair and his face was smooth and unlined. When Hallic caught his eye, he ducked his head shyly.
“What did you see, lad?” Hallic asked kindly.
“Um, well Master, I was standing by the elevator, so I didn't see much,” Nixil replied nervously. “But Tat
ten and Rox, a couple of my friends, learned that the guildmaster had been murdered, and maybe you had been as well, and they decided to do something about it.”
He gulped and sniffed loudly, wiping his eyes.
“Idiots,” he muttered. “They was barely past apprenticeship, same as me, and I told them that they was being stupid. But they wouldn't listen. No sir, they wouldn't.”
He choked up and seemed unable to speak. Mel walked over to the young dwarf and ducked down to look into his eyes.
“Easy there,” she said gently. “I know it's hard, but we have to know what happened. Just take your time and tell it as you saw it.”
Nixil nodded and straightened up. He wiped his eyes again and smiled weakly at Mel.
“They was very brave,” he said softly. “Braver than me, standing back at the elevator ready to scurry away like a tunnel rat.”
“You lived to tell their tale,” Hallic told him. “And that speaks volumes to me, lad. Now, what happened?”
“Well sir, both Tatten and Rox used the shadows, just like the trainers taught us. There was a handful of guards at the door of the guildmaster's quarters but, like you heard, they was all drunk and half of them had fallen to the floor and were snoring so loud that I could hear them from where I was standing.”
“Idiots,” someone said with a derisive snort.
“I guess that Tatten thought it would be easy to sneak by 'em,” Nixil continued. “But they didn't get to within twenty feet of the door when something happened.”
The young rogue frowned and blinked rapidly.
“It's hard to say what it was. But there was a sort of, I dunno, dark blur in front of them and both Tatten and Rox staggered back, like they was hit by a hammer. Then they collapsed like empty sacks and lay still. One of the guards laughed and walked over to them. He kicked Tatten, hard, but he never moved after that. I could tell he was dead.”
Nixil hesitated and reddened.
“That's when I ran away,” he whispered. “I couldn't do nothing, master,” he added desperately, looking at Hallic. “I wanted to, but I couldn't do nothing!”
He began weeping and Mel put her arm around him and hugged him reassuringly.
“Of course you couldn't,” she told him. “The best thing you could have done was to retreat and tell Rendin what happened.”
“Aye, she'd right,” Hallic agreed. “You did your best, lad, and told us the tale. Your friends died bravely and you lived to keep their memory alive. Hold on to that. It's important.”
Nixil looked up at Hallic in surprise.
“Do you really think that they was brave, Master?” he asked.
“You all were. Thank you for the report. I appreciate it.”
Nixil nodded, speechless at the praise, and Mel grinned at him.
“There aren't many who have been complimented by Hallic Barston, my friend. Savor this moment.”
Hallic rolled his eyes at her and turned to Rendin and the others.
“Any idea what we're dealing with?” Rendin asked him. “I've never heard of anything like it.”
“I don't know what it is specifically,” Hallic replied pensively. “But I'd guess that it's a magical trap of some kind.”
“Magical? Seriously?”
“Yes. The traitor, Corbin, has a witch working for him. Or perhaps he works for her now. It's hard to say. But this sounds like her handiwork. I know that the guild is shielded against hostile magics, but if something physical was brought in by Myler, that might circumvent the warding. Apparently it was meant to negate magic-users, not their devices. Frankly, I'm surprised that the ancients allowed such a loophole.”
Rendin looked confused.
“Magical wards? Here? I've never heard of such a thing.”
Several others murmured in agreement and Hallic smiled grimly at the group.
“Only the masters have been told of them over the centuries. And, since many were convinced that magic would never return to the world, the wards were considered a quaint reminder of ancient days. But the power is back now, and I for one am grateful to our ancestors for their foresight. However Cindra, the witch that I spoke of, seems to have found a way around them.”
“Damn it,” Rendin growled. “So what do we do? If we approach Darlheim's quarters, we'll be killed instantly. How do we get that rat Myler out of there?”
“Surely he has to come out eventually, doesn't he?” someone asked. “For food if nothing else. Why can't we just wait for him to come to us?”
There were mutters of agreement, but Hallic shook his head.
“And what if this magical defense is portable?” he asked them. “Apparently it was carried in here. Perhaps now that it's been activated, it can be moved around by Myler when he wants to leave Darlheim's quarters.”
“I hadn't thought of that,” Rendin told him. “Damn. So what's our play?”
“Let's find out what the extent of this magical protection really is.”
Hallic glanced at Mel as she walked back to stand next to him.
“Meaning what?” he asked her.
“Well, we know, thanks to Nixil, that the thing has a limited range. He was safe from its attack when he stood by the elevator. That's what, about twenty yards from the guildmaster's quarters? More than close enough to use crossbows to take out Myler's guards.”
Hallic gave her a wicked grin.
“I like the way you think,” he said.
“Thanks. I learned from the best.”
“Okay, we'll test this thing,” Hallic said. “Rendin, can I borrow a couple of crossbows?”
“Certainly.”
The dwarf moved through the group to a large cabinet set against a wall. He opened it and rummaged through it for a moment.
“Dorl, give this to Hallic, please,” he said to one of the group as he turned around holding a small metal crossbow. “Challe, give this one to Mel.”
The two dwarves took the weapons from Rendin and he spent another moment digging through his cabinet.
“You really need to be more organized,” Hallic told him as he accepted one of the crossbows.
Rendin walked back and offer him a handful of bolts. He gave an equal number to Mel and then smiled at his old friend.
“You know how bad my aim is. I rarely use these blasted things,” he said with a nod at the crossbows. “I'm just at likely to shoot myself with them as shoot an enemy.”
There was rippled of laughter around the room and Hallic grinned at him.
“I've told you a hundred times to practice more, but you never listen,” he scolded.
“Bah, you were the best of us when we were apprentices,” Rendin replied. “I'm good at infiltration and close fighting, not picking off targets from afar. You, my friend, were always good at everything.”
“Jealous?” Mel teased him as she examined the crossbow carefully.
“No, envious. But do you see what your father's talent got him? He's a master and next in line to lead the guild.” Rendin shuddered. “Gods save me from ever having that kind of responsibility.”
After making sure that the crossbows were functioning as they should, Hallic and Mel prepared to leave Rendin's quarters.
“Do you want some of us to come with you?”
Hallic shook his head at his old friend.
“No. This is just an experiment. If we can take out those guards, that will tell us something about this magical defense and get rid of some of Myler's cronies as a bonus. If we can't, well, that will also teach us something. You can check to make sure that it's safe to leave though.
Rendin nodded and hurried across the room to the door. He opened it cautiously and looked both ways.
“It's clear,” he said over his shoulder. “Are you thinking of using one of the elevators?”
Hallic walked over to join him.
“No, they're too loud. I see no reason to announce our arrival. We'll use a ladder to climb down to the bottom level.”
He left the room with a final wave a
t the others and Mel followed him. Hallic took a moment to speak with Rendin outside of his quarters.
“Keep the group on their toes,” he said quietly. “Depending on how this goes, we might have to move quickly. I don't know if the witch is keeping an eye on Myler or not, but if she is, she might try to transport him away if we corner him.”
“Do you really think that she gives a damn about that idiot?” Rendin replied derisively. “My guess is that Corbin and his pet caster just wanted Darlheim out of the way to sow confusion within the guild. We're a danger to them and they know it. Myler is expendable, I'd say.”
Hallic stared at his friend with frank admiration.
“When did you become so clever?” he asked.
“I'm not,” Rendin replied, grinning. “But what they are doing is obvious even to a dullard like me. Divide and conquer. Something that we all learned back when we were apprentices. Remember?”
Hallic clapped him on the shoulder.
“Vividly. Old master Caldure practically beat that lesson into us. Okay, stay hidden and stay safe. Mel and I will return as soon as we can.”
“Luck to you both,” Rendin told the pair.
Hallic and Mel climbed down the ladder that was furthest away from the guildmaster's quarters. All around them, the guild was unnaturally quiet. No one could be seen walking from place to place and only the constant creaking and groaning of the ancient structure around them filled the silence. It seemed that everyone was laying low and waiting to see what would happen next.
Once they reached the bottom of the ladder, the two rogues hid behind a pallet of wooden crates and took a moment to scout out their surroundings. Fortunately the guild stored a lot of its dry goods along the railing on that level and had done so for years. They offered excellent cover for Hallic and Mel.
“I've never seen the old place so deserted,” Mel whispered. “It feels like a tomb.”
“If we don't retake it, that's what it may become,” Hallic replied grimly. “I'm sure that Corbin and his witch would love to gut the place. Well, that's not going to happen if I have anything to say about it.”
“If we have anything to say about it,” his daughter told him pointedly.
The Dwarven Rebellion Page 14