Shandon looked relieved.
“Good. The gods seem to be granting Torren their favor in this. Hopefully it means that Annia will survive.”
Torren opened his eyes and looked at Hallic.
“You may remove your hand now,” he told him. “I have closed the wound, but I need direct contact with the patient to continue the healing.”
Hallic nodded and cautiously pulled back his hand, taking the blood-soaked cloth with it. He was relieved to see that the flow of blood had stopped and he stood up and stepped back to join the others.
“Should I call for a blanket, Torren?” Shandon asked the cleric. “Annia is lying on the floor.”
The cleric shook his head silently, covered the slash in Annia's tunic with his palm and began praying again.
“Can you tell me the whole story now?” the king asked Hallic quietly. “How did you three learn that Annia had been attacked? And how did you manage to save her and get her here so quickly?”
Hallic looked bleakly at the moist red cloth in his hand and then lifted his chin toward Larin, who was sitting quietly with a hand over his eyes. Walkar was standing behind him, watching him closely.
He looks like he's guarding Larin. Protecting him, Hallic thought absently. Perhaps he is.
“Thank our friend for that,” the rogue said. “We were waiting in my rooms for Annia to come back from her scouting trip when the mate of the lodestone that Larin gave her began glowing. He checked on her in his mirror, expecting to see her back in her office, but instead he saw her lying crumpled in a heap on some street in Cindercore. How Annia even found the strength to focus on her stone to contact Larin is beyond me. He jumped up, told Mel and me that there was an emergency and Gated the three of us directly to her location.”
Mel was watching the cleric somberly as he continued his prayers.
“Annia had almost bled out, considering the amount of blood that she was lying in,” she told Shandon. “Mennis was sprawled nearby. I recognized his face in the light of the streetlamps. Dead, of course. Father took one look at Annia, scooped her up and told Larin to Gate us directly here.”
She gave the king a wan smile.
“I'm a bit surprised that your guards didn't jump us when we appeared,” she added.
“Walkar warned us that Larin was coming,” Shandon told her. “He felt his magic somehow. I didn't know that mages could do that.”
Hallic chuckled dryly.
“I suspect that there is a lot about them that we still don't know.”
His expression changed and he moved closer to the king.
“Once we are sure that Annia is going to survive, I will be asking Larin to assign one of his people to take us back to Cindercore,” he said under his breath. “If Mennis turned traitor, there may be others who have as well and I intend to root them out. I'll take Mel with me.”
Shandon nodded slowly.
“I understand, but perhaps you should wait until we hear from Annia herself. We don't know what she found on her scouting mission. I'd guess that, whatever it was, it's what prompted Mennis to attack her.”
Hallic frowned at the unconscious woman.
“Good point. I hadn't considered that. I doubt that he would have risked assaulting her for no reason, if he was an agent of Cindra or Corbin. But let us hope that she speaks soon. The Cindercore guild is leaderless now, thanks to that turncoat. Who knows what is happening there?”
They settled into silence and watched Torren do his work. Falder entered the throne room a moment later, followed by a young page wearing a white tunic with the royal crest on her right shoulder. He hurried over to Shandon, glancing once at the cleric and Annia.
“My lord, I was informed that there was an emergency,” he said to the king. “What do you need?”
“Ah, Falder,” Shandon said with a smile. “How do you always seem to know what is happening in the palace at all times? Yes, there is definitely an emergency. One of Hallic's people was attacked, as you can see. I think that she will survive, thanks to Torren and the gods, but I assume that she will need a place to rest for a while. Could you find her a room?”
“Of course, my lord.”
Falder turned to the page and muttered something to her.
The young woman listened intently, nodded her understanding and hurried out of the room.
“Done,” the seneschal said. “There is a room in the east wing, not too far from here, that will be ready for her in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Falder.”
A few minutes later, Torren stood up with a groan.
“Oh, my old knees,” he grumbled.
He turned to look at the watching group as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped the blood from his hand.
“Her wound is healed,” he informed them with a satisfied smile. “Thanks be to the Light. But her resources have been drained and she will need an extended period of rest. Is there a bed available?”
“Falder has already arranged quarters for her,” Shandon told him.
“Excellent. There is a stretcher in my chambers that we can use to carry her there, if you could send someone, my lord?”
“Of course. Falder, get two of your stronger pages to fetch that stretcher. Quickly. We should make Annia as comfortable as possible. She has earned that and more.”
“Agreed, my lord. I will see to it.”
The seneschal walked briskly to the main doors and left the throne room.
“It won't be long,” Shandon told the cleric.
“Good. This floor is hardly a fit place for a newly-healed patient to be lying.”
“May I speak to her, Torren?” Hallic asked him. “Is she conscious?”
“Of course I'm conscious.”
The weak statement came from Annia, who slowly turned her head in Hallic's direction.
He moved forward quickly and knelt down next to her.
“Easy, my friend,” he said gently. “They are bringing a stretcher to get you off of this cold floor and into a soft, warm bed.”
Annia's lips twitched into an almost-smile.
“Thank you, Guildmaster,” she said, her voice thin and weak. “That sounds lovely.”
Torren frowned at Hallic, giving him a disapproving look, but Shandon touched his arm and shook his head.
“Give them a moment,” he murmured.
The cleric hesitated and then shrugged.
“As you say, my lord,” he replied.
“I know you need to rest,” Hallic was saying. “But can you remember what happened? I really need to know.”
Annia's eyes drifted away from his face and she stared up at the distant ceiling.
“Some of it,” she said softly. “It's all a bit of a jumble, to be honest. I remember passing Mennis as I was leaving the guild-house. He asked me where I was going and, when I told him that I needed to do some scouting, he offered to come along.”
She coughed lightly and Hallic lifted her head carefully until she caught her breath and smiled up at him.
“Thanks. I'm fine. Anyway, I thought that having someone at my back would be wise, so I accepted his offer. A foolish mistake on my part,” she added ruefully.
“You did the right thing,” Hallic assured her. “How could you know that Mennis had turned traitor?”
“I should have known,” she said, tight-lipped. “I should have. And you know that, Hallic.”
He shook his head.
“We've all made mistakes lately, Annia, including myself. And you almost paid the ultimate price for yours. Let it go. Now, tell me what happened.”
She closed her eyes for a moment.
“We made our way across town until we reached the quarter where Baroness Entissa owns properties. As we approached the houses, something caught my eye and I stopped. Mennis was behind me.”
“What did you see?”
“Daemons, Guildmaster. On top of the roofs of the houses. Dozens of them, hunched over like gargoyles, all of them as still as statues. I
could feel them watching us.”
“Daemons!” Torren exclaimed in alarm. “What are you saying, child? Actual daemons?”
Annia didn't reply to him. Instead, she grabbed Hallic's sleeve.
“They were everywhere, Guildmaster,” she told him intensely. “Do you understand? Everywhere! I turned back to tell Mennis to retreat and that's when he knifed me.”
“Damn him,” Hallic growled. “Well, you dealt with him accordingly. And then you managed to use your lodestone to signal Larin? Amazing. Thank the gods you did. Well done, Annia. Well done indeed.”
“Did I?” she said with surprise. “Huh. I don't remember that at all.”
She looked past Hallic to where Larin was sitting. He still looked pale and exhausted, but he was watching her and smiled as she caught his eye.
“Thank you, Larin,” Annia said as strongly as she could. “I'm guessing that you were the one who saved my life.”
“You saved your own life, my friend,” he told her warmly. “I simply responded to your call. You are a remarkable woman, Annia, and the rogues guild is lucky to have you.”
She smiled at that and closed her eyes.
The doors swung open and Falder entered the throne room. Two pages walked in behind him, carrying a stretcher between them.
“Ah, your ride is here,” Hallic told Annia with a touch of humor.
She chuckled without opening her eyes.
“Good,” she muttered. “I would like to get off of this floor.”
The pages lowered the stretcher next to her and Falder and Hallic gently lifted Annia on to it.
“Follow me,” Falder told the pages.
“I will go with them, my lord,” Torren told Shandon. “I want to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible.”
“Thank you, Torren,” the king said. “I am grateful for your service.”
“It is my duty, my lord,” the cleric replied with a nod.
After Torren and Falder had left with Annia, Shandon looked at the others.
“I think that we should retire to my quarters and discuss all of this. Larin, do you want to go to your rooms and get some rest?”
The mage pushed himself to his feet.
“No, my lord,” he demurred. “I am feeling much better. As long as I can sit down when we get there, I would like to be part of the meeting.”
“As you wish. Come along, everyone. Walkar, you too.”
The mage nodded silently.
Shandon led the group out of the throne room. In the hallway, he told a page standing there to ask the kitchen to send some refreshments to his quarters and then walked toward his quarters, moving slowly to allow Larin to keep up.
Mel walked beside the mage, speaking to him under her breath and watching him closely, ready to take his elbow in case he faltered. Walkar followed closely behind them. Hallic tossed the blood-soaked cloth in his hand into the first trash bin they passed in the hallway and Mel grimaced.
When they reached the royal chambers, the guards there opened the door, looking surprised at the parade of people following the king.
“Have someone find Pieter, would you?” Shandon asked one of them. “I'd like him to join us.”
“No need, my lord,” the guard replied. “He is already here.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
Inside the lounge, Pieter was sitting at one of the tables, sipping a mug of ale and staring thoughtfully into space. He was wearing his usual battered old breastplate. As Shandon and the others entered, he looked over with a smile and then stood up abruptly as he saw the entire group.
“What's all this? A party?” he asked jovially.
“Not exactly,” Shandon said with a shake of his head. “Larin, take a seat. I'm sure that the kitchen will send us some tea shortly.”
The mage nodded and sat down with an audible sigh.
Everyone else found chairs around two of the tables and Jergen, the last one to enter the lounge, walked over to the bar and began pouring himself some ale.
“My lord?” he said, looking over at Shandon. “Ale?”
The king nodded.
“I could use some. Anyone else?”
“I could use a refill,” Pieter said with a wide grin.
Jergen chuckled and shook his head.
“Of course you could,” he told his old friend. “Anyone else?”
None of the others wanted ale. They all seemed more interested in discussing current events. And so, after they had gotten settled into their chairs, everyone looked at the king, waiting for him to begin the meeting.
Hallic, Mel and Larin were seated at one table, while Shandon sat down next to Pieter at another. Walkar stood next to the doorway, watching the group alertly. He was still on duty guarding the king.
After he had drawn three mugs of ale, Jergen took a seat beside Shandon and passed around the tankards. The king took a long drink before he looked at the others.
“Well, here we are,” he began. “Another day, another crisis.”
He looked at Pieter curiously.
“Why the armor?” he asked the older dwarf.
“I thought it would be...prudent, after the recent attempt of your life,” Pieter replied as he lifted his tankard and took a long gulp of ale.
“Feeling a bit vulnerable?” Jergen asked with a grin.
“Not a bit,” Pieter said through a beltch. “'scuse me. But you know my wife. She'd be a wee bit upset if someone planted a crossbow bolt in me. She does worry, poor lass.”
Shandon and Jergen exchanged a look and both of them chuckled.
“Good to know that she's keeping you in line,” the king said. “Now, getting back to the topic at hand. Hallic, I know you want to go to Cindercore as soon as possible and sort out the guild-house there. But with this new report of daemons that Annia told us about, do you think it wise?”
The rogue sat back in his chair and looked at Shandon through narrowed eyes.
“Don't you, my lord?” he answered. “If this baroness of yours has allied herself with Cindra and your son, should we not get more information about it?”
“Of course we should. But taking on dozens of daemons? Really? Even for you and your vaunted skills, that seems like a tall order.”
Hallic looked at his daughter, who was watching him nervously. He smiled at her.
“Worried that I'll do something foolish?” he asked her.
“No, not really,” Mel replied. “If I was worried every time you went out on a risky mission, my hair would have turned white when I was a little girl.”
Several of the others laughed at that remark, but Mel looked at the king somberly.
“My lord, I think that our problem may be even bigger than the crisis in Cindercore,” she told him.
“Bigger than a mass of daemons?” Shandon said with a frown. “How so?”
“Father has not mentioned it yet, but we have not heard from our guild-houses in Orelong and Crystal Main in months. Darlheim meant to send senior rogues to each city but, well, you know what happened.”
“Treachery,” the king growled. “Aye. So you suspect foul play in those two cities?” he asked, looking at Hallic.
“Maybe. Larin was going to check on the leaders in those guild-houses when we were interrupted by Annia's signal. I think we both need to know what is going on there. It might simply be that the deep roads leading to the cities have become impassable. You know how badly they've degraded over the years.”
There was no hint of accusation in Hallic's tone, but Shandon looked uncomfortable and rubbed his eyes, allowing the others to catch a glimpse of his exhaustion.
“I do. I was working on a sweeping infrastructure plan, meant to re-energize our people by creating jobs and rebuilding the deep roads, when all of this mess began. We all know that a busy dwarf is a happy dwarf. Putting them to work would put gold in their pockets, give them purpose and open up the deep roads to more trade. It would, I believe, renew our entire empire.”
More than o
ne person in the room looked pleased by the king's words and Pieter raised his mug in salute.
“A noble and sweeping vision, my lord,” Larin told Shandon. “The empire has been fading for many years, as I am sure everyone in this room knows, but your plan would go a long way to halting that descent. I just wish that Cindra and your son weren't standing in the way of such progress.”
“So do I. But once we deal with them, the plan will go forward. I swear it.”
He drank more ale and looked at Hallic.
“Now, about those two guild-houses. I'd like you to try to get in touch with your leaders there and find out what is really going on immediately. Could we do that now?”
Hallic shrugged and nodded at Larin.
“I have no idea. Our friend here looks a little done in and I doubt that he could summon the strength to try to contact either person right now.”
Before the mage could reply, Walkar stepped forward and stood behind Larin's chair.
“If I may, Elder,” he said politely. “I would be happy to attempt to contact these people, if you would like to rest. You can watch over the king and protect him from any magical dangers while I do so.”
Larin turned and smiled up at Walkar.
“That is a kind offer, my friend,” he said gratefully. “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure.”
Walkar looked at Hallic and Mel.
“If you could give me the names and descriptions of those two rogues, I will be able to lock on to them using a Magic Mirror spell.”
“I have a large mirror in my bed chamber,” Shandon told him. “Larin has used it before. It's gaudy and overly fancy, but it will serve your purposes, if you would like to use it.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Walkar said with a bow. “That will do nicely.”
Hallic stood up and Mel did the same.
“Come along then,” he told the mage. “We'll describe our missing guild leaders and you can get to work.”
The trio walked out of the lounge and entered the king's bedroom. Larin watched them leave, looking pleased.
“How skilled is Walkar?” Shandon asked him.
“Very, my lord,” Larin assured him. “He is one of the strongest of my kind. Believe me, if Walkar cannot contact those rogues, no one can.”
The Dwarven Rebellion Page 29