His voice was getting weaker and he seemed to be drifting into unconsciousness. Hallic reached out to shake him, but Walkar interrupted him.
“We have to get him to a healer immediately,” he stated. “He's fading fast.”
Hallic scowled up at him.
“I need answers,” he growled. “I need to know what happened, if anyone survived, and who attacked them.”
“And if he dies, are you going to get your answers from his corpse?” Walkar asked calmly. “You've waited this long, Guildmaster. Surely you can wait a few hours longer?”
“Walkar is right, Father,” Mel said as she stood up. “It is our duty to save Strake's life first. We can get our answers after he is healed.”
Hallic cursed softly but after a brief moment of hesitation he got to his feet and nodded at them.
“You're both right, of course. I'd be failing in my duty to him and to the guild if I didn't put Strake's welfare above my own needs. All right then. Walkar, can you transport us directly to the palace? There's always a cleric on duty there and it's the safest place for him right now.”
“Certainly. If we want to be discreet, I can Gate us into the king's chambers and contact Larin from there. He can send a healer to us.”
“That works, although it may surprise whichever one of your colleagues is on duty watching over Shandon while he sleeps,” Hallic said with a grin. “Let's hope they won't blast us into dust when we pop in.”
Walkar smiled at him.
“They won't. They will feel my magic building before we appear and they will recognize it as mine.”
As Hallic bent over to pick up the unconscious Strake, Walkar stopped him again.
“Don't disturb him. Moving him might reopen his wounds. I will transport him as he is, chair and all.”
“Good idea. Okay then, whenever you're ready.”
“Brace yourselves,” Walkar told the rogues.
He chanted the Gate spell, waited for Hallic's nod and then invoked it. With a bright flash, they were gone. The chair went with them.
Shandon was speaking with Jergen and Pieter when the main doors into the throne room swung open and Commander Brokk strode through them. The guards standing beside the doors snapped to attention and saluted and he nodded curtly as he passed them. His face was blank of expression.
“Ah, there he is now,” Pieter said with a broad grin. “I was wondering if we'd have to go looking for him and his troops.”
“It's about time,” Jergen rumbled irritably. “We've been waiting for over an hour.”
“Stop complaining,” the king told him. “At least you had some refreshment while we waited. I asked him to take both Corse and Entissa into custody with no bloodshed. It takes longer to do something delicately when you're a warrior, remember?”
Jergen gave him a sour look. He still looked a little bleary-eyed from being roused from a deep sleep.
“I've never done anything delicately,” he scoffed as the commander approached the dais.
“We know that, Jergen,” Pieter said agreeably. “We definitely know that.”
The older dwarf looked awake and alert. Falder reported that Pieter's wife had only been moderately irritated by his summons and that nothing had been thrown at him. This time.
The seneschal was standing behind the throne now, next to Odella. Both of them were watching Brokk closely.
“I don't think the commander looks very happy, my lord,” Falder observed.
“He never looks happy,” Shandon said quietly. “That's part of his charm.”
Brokk stopped at the bottom of the dais and saluted.
“Your majesty,” he said formally.
“Commander. Welcome back,” the king greeted him. “At ease. What do you have to report?”
The commander cleared his throat and relaxed slightly, his silvery armor creaking softly.
“Duke Prenden Corse and Baroness Entissa are in custody, my lord. They are currently housed in adjoining cells in the palace's dungeons. They are unharmed.”
He stopped speaking and looked at the king expressionlessly.
“Now that is how to make a report,” Jergen said approvingly. “Short, concise and informative.”
Shandon glanced at him.
“Yes, but I prefer something a little more fleshed out.”
He looked down at Brokk.
“Thank you, Commander, but could you fill in the blanks, please? Did those two come with you willingly? What did they have to say? Details please.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Brokk cleared his throat again.
“Duke Corse's retainers were reluctant to allow me to see their master. My troops had to be rather firm with them. No deaths, but there were several broken limbs among them. After our display of determination, they became more willing to show me to the duke's quarters.”
“He went with you without incident?” Pieter asked.
“Not exactly, sir,” Brokk replied dryly. “I roused him from his sleep and he was quite vocal in his objections to my presence. The um, several young ladies that were with him might have been part of the reason for his anger. They scattered rather quickly when I entered his bedchamber with a few members of my squad. I informed the duke that he was under arrest and offered him the opportunity to get dressed, but he just continued to object loudly.”
“So what did you do?” Jergen asked him.
“I had two of my warriors drag him out of bed and we left the residence with the duke in tow. Once out on the street, he changed his tune and wanted to return to his home to get dressed. I ignored him.”
“Well done, Commander,” the king said with a smile. “And then?”
“And then we proceeded to the baroness's home. Her servants might have objected to my request to speak with her but, once they saw the duke in his nightclothes being restrained by my guardsmen, they hurriedly summoned her. The baroness was at least dressed when she came down to the entrance. I told her that she was being arrested on suspicion of treason. She objected rather loudly, of course, but again the duke's presence seemed to mute her resistance and she eventually allowed herself to be taken into custody.”
“And you transported them here without any further problems?” Shandon asked him.
“That is correct, my lord. As I said, they are now being held in the dungeon. Both have been provided with appropriate clothing and will be allowed reading materials and refreshment if they request it. Neither will be permitted to send any messages outside of the palace without your express permission.”
“Well done,” the king told him again. “You handled a rather delicate matter perfectly. You have my thanks.”
Brokk looked pleased.
“I was just doing my duty, my lord.”
“And I appreciate that. Tell your troops that they have my thanks as well. They have earned their rest this night, as have you. You are dismissed, Commander.”
Brokk saluted smartly, turned around and strode back to the entrance. The guards hurried to open the doors for him and he left the throne room without even slowing down.
“An efficient officer,” Jergen said as he watched the doors close again.
“Aye. We need more like him,” Pieter agreed.
He looked at Shandon curiously.
“So what now? You've locked up two of the ringleaders of your son's cabal, but he and that witch of his are still at large, doing who knows what to the empire. How are we going to stop them?”
“I'm going to employ Hallic and his rogues,” Shandon replied as he sat back on the throne. “Corbin and Cindra have exerted considerable influence in our cities, more than I would have thought possible. And they did it without raising my suspicions. That witch is a sly one, I have to admit, but she is exposed at last and now I will respond.”
Jergen frowned at him.
“And just how did you find out about that? We've not heard anything about the traitors having any sort of influence or well-organized plans set in motion anywhere in
the empire.”
Shandon looked at him and Pieter, both of whom were watching him closely.
“I have my ways,” he replied vaguely. “It's not important. What is important is that I correct my mistakes before I lose control of the entire empire. And Hallic and his people will help me do that.”
“How?”
“By using their connections across the realm. They can...”
“Excuse me, your majesty, but I have a message.”
The king stopped speaking and turned to look at Odella in surprise as she walked forward to stand next to him.
“A message? From whom?”
“Larin, my lord. He says that Hallic, Mel and Walkar have returned. They are in your quarters at the moment with a wounded rogue. Larin was contacted by Walkar when they arrived and the Elder quickly found a cleric to attend to the rogue's injuries. The cleric is working now and Larin has taken this opportunity to pass along this information to me.” She smiled at Shandon. “And now I am passing it on to you.”
The king stood up quickly.
“A wounded rogue? That doesn't sound good. Things must have gone badly in Cindercore or Orelong.”
He looked at the others.
“I'm going back to my chambers. Falder, please remain here for now. If any messages come in, perhaps some fallout from the arrests of Corse or Entissa, let me know immediately.”
“Of course, my lord,” the seneschal said with a bow.
“Odella. Jergen. Pieter. Come with me. Let's find out what has happened.”
Shandon clattered down the steps of the dais and hurried toward the entrance. The others all followed him while Falder remained standing behind the throne and watched them leave. He felt more anxious than he allowed himself to appear and, after waiting a few moments, he motioned for one of the pages to join him.
“Yes sir?” the young woman asked as she hurried over and climbed the steps to join him.
“Go to the king's chambers and wait outside,” he told her. “His majesty may need something or he may want to send me a message. Wait there until you are relieved. Understood?”
“Understood, sir,” she replied brightly.
“Go on then.”
Falder watched her trot off and smiled fondly.
They're always so eager to please, he thought. Well, the good ones are, anyway.
Chapter 26
When Shandon reached his quarters, he asked the guards at the door who was inside.
“The senior cleric, Torren, my lord,” one of them replied. “Also the mages Larin and Walkar and several members of the rogues guild, including their leader, Hallic.”
“Very good.”
The guard opened the door and the king hurried inside with the others following along behind him. The main room was empty, but they could hear the buzz of conversation in the lounge and Shandon followed the sound through his library and stopped as he entered the lounge.
In the middle of the room there was a stranger sitting slumped over in a chair. Sitting on another chair in front of him was Torren, who was holding the dwarf's hands in his own. Both of their eyes were closed.
Seated at a table nearby were Larin and Walkar. Both mages were speaking together as they watched the cleric anxiously.
Hallic and Mel were leaning against the bar, also chatting quietly as Torren did his job. When Shandon entered the room, they looked over at him.
“Ah, Larin was able to get a message to you,” Hallic said to the king. “Good. He neglected to tell us if he was successful or not.”
The mage glanced at Hallic and the rogue winked at him.
“Did I?” Larin said with a frown. “Hmm, I must have been distracted.”
“It's not important,” Shandon said as he walked over to stand next the rogues. “What's going on?”
“That,” Hallic told him quietly with a nod at the stranger, “is Strake, the leader of the Orelong guild-house. We found him hiding in a warehouse not too far from the ruins. He's badly wounded, but Torren says that he is going to pull through.”
He looked over at Walkar and smiled.
“Our friend there transported Strake still sitting on the chair where we found him. Amazing trick. I didn't know that a mage could do that.”
Walkar was now the one looking drained while Larin seemed to be well-rested and refreshed.
“It isn't that hard to do,” Larin explained to them. “The weight of a thing is not the determining factor when it comes to Gating something. It is the size of the object that matters, whether it be a group of people or a piece of furniture. But Walkar did expend a lot of energy casting his spell, especially right after Gating several times in succession. I'm very pleased with his efforts.”
“Thank you, Elder,” Walkar replied with a tired smile.
Odella went over and sat down next to Larin, while Jergen and Pieter took seats at a separate table. All of them watched as Torren prayed over the wounded rogue.
“Will you all keep chatting with each other, please,” the cleric said testily without opening his eyes. “I feel like I'm performing tricks for an audience.”
Shandon chuckled and several of the others laughed out loud.
“Sorry, Torren,” he said. “But in a sense, you are.”
Torren sighed and opened his eyes. He stood up and looked over at the king.
“Yes, I suppose that is true. Doesn't matter, though. The healing is done and my patient will live. Praise be to the Light.”
“Can we speak with him?” Hallic asked.
“Certainly. Just give him a few minutes to wake up. I put him into a light sleep to speed up the healing process. And if someone could get him some water, that would be appreciated. He's lost a lot of blood and needs to replenish it. He will need to eat very soon as well, but that will have to wait until his system has recovered somewhat.”
“I'll get it,” Mel said as she walked around the bar.
Torren carried his chair over to a table and set it down.
“Don't overtire him,” he said to Hallic. “He needs more sleep. And you'll be happy to know that the last wounded rogue you brought to me will be up and about in the morning. She's responded quite well to the enforced rest I ordered, although she is a cranky patient.”
“Annia?” Hallic asked with a grin. “I'm not surprised. She's not one to sit around while important things are happening.”
“So she's informed me, several times,” Torren said with a disapproving sniff. “But she is free to leave her quarters in the morning, so hopefully that will improve her mood.”
“Thank you for your efforts, Torren,” the king told him. “They are greatly appreciated.”
“It is my duty, my lord.”
The cleric gave Hallic a mischievous glance.
“But might I suggest that the rogues you have allied with take better care of themselves?” he asked as he crossed the room toward the exit. “These late night healing sessions are becoming a little too routine.”
The rogue grinned at him.
“We'll try to do better,” he said with a slight bow.
“See that you do. Good night, everyone.”
And with a nod at Shandon, Torren left the room.
“An efficient person, isn't he?” Larin said to the king.
“Aye, he is that. We are lucky to have him. And he has a point, you know, Hallic. About your people.”
Hallic shrugged.
“We are in a dangerous business, my lord. And with the conflict between ourselves and the traitors, dangers need to be faced. What else can I say?”
Mel walked back around the bar with a glass of water and knelt down next to Strake.
“Can you hear me?” she asked softly.
The rogue sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, like someone waking from a deep sleep. He blinked rapidly for a moment as he looked around and then he accepted the glass from Mel with a weak smile.
“Of course I can hear you,” he said, his voice raspy. “I could hear you all along, but your voice
s sounded distant, like I was listening to you from the end of a tunnel.”
He drank some water, cleared his throat, and then emptied the glass.
“Ah, that's better,” he said more clearly. “Thank you.”
“More?”
“Aye, if it isn't too much trouble.”
“Not at all,” Mel said as she took the glass and stood up.
Hallic dragged a chair over and sat down across from Strake.
“What happened?” he asked Strake directly, staring into his eyes.
The rogue ran his fingers through his hair and tugged at his beard as if to reassure himself that it was still there. He looked around the room at everyone who was watching him and nodded convulsively at the king.
“Sorry to cause a fuss, your highness,” he said nervously.
Shandon looked back at him kindly.
“If you have to give me a title, 'my lord' will do, Strake,” he replied. “Now, catch your breath, gather your thoughts and tell us what happened to your guild-house. As much as you can remember.”
Mel brought him another glass of water and the rogue thanked her. He took a few sips as Mel walked back and leaned on the counter of the bar.
“It was a couple of days ago,” Strake began, staring into his glass. His hand was trembling. “I was in the underground storage room, tallying up our supplies before we put in our monthly order. It was about midday, I think. Suddenly there was an ungodly crash above my head. I dropped my list and raced up the stairs, but...”
He closed his eyes for a moment as if reliving the moment.
“They were blocked. I'm guessing that something had collapsed on top of the trapdoor leading from the cellar, because I couldn't even move it. Maybe the roof caved in.”
He opened his eyes and looked at Hallic.
“They were screaming up there, Guildmaster. Do you understand? I was beating on the door, trying to force it to open and they were screaming as they burned.”
He put the glass on the floor and stared, wide-eyed, at the ground.
The Dwarven Rebellion Page 33