The Dwarven Rebellion

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The Dwarven Rebellion Page 48

by J. J. Thompson


  He had also begun an empire-wide infrastructure program aimed at rebuilding the deep roads and re-energizing the trade routes between all of the dwarven cities and towns. Many of his people were now excitedly going back to work and the empire was beginning to thrive again in a way that hadn't been seen in centuries. As his father had once told Shandon: a busy dwarf was a happy dwarf. And he had been right.

  The palace had been cleaned out and set to rights again and squads of royal guardsmen had swept through Kingstone, Orelong and all of the major cities with orders to root out any goblins or other dark servants that Cindra had left behind. Thankfully most of the goblins had retreated after their defeat and the tunnels that they had used to journey from the surface had been sealed off again. Guards were now set to keep a constant eye on those tunnels going forward, just in case.

  The upper classes had been shaken out of their complacency by the deaths of the nobles and their families in Cindercore and many had begun visiting the palace to reassert their loyalty to the crown and to the empire.

  Shandon had accepted their fealty graciously, even though Jergen had had a few choice words to say about fair weather friends.

  “They've had a wake-up call,” he told the king after one noble delegation from Crystal Main had left the throne room. “But how long do you think it will be before their humble attitude changes again?”

  “It doesn't matter,” Shandon replied. “The general population stands with us and the nobles know it. Let them think on that the next time they are tempted to turn against the crown. It may give them pause.”

  Hallic and his rogues were busy as well. They were working to rebuild their guild-houses and add new members to their ranks, after the deaths of so many rogues at the hands of Cindra and her allies. The guildmaster had recently sent the king a rather cocky note offering his guild's services to the crown at any time...for the right price.

  Shandon smiled now thinking about it.

  Hallic will never change, he thought wryly. And thank the gods for that.

  He focused on the marker again.

  “I'm sorry that I never got the chance to know you before you became what you became,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “Perhaps if I'd been there for you when you were a child, things would have turned out differently. I don't know. All I do know is that I am glad it was not my hand that struck you down. And that the evil witch who used you is now in a place where she will pay the price for her vile schemes for all eternity.”

  As he stared down at his son's name, the king felt the weight of someone's gaze between his shoulder blades.

  Jergen checking up on me as usual, he thought. I really need to get him some sort of a hobby.

  He turned around with a grin and then stared in shock at the figure standing calmly a dozen feet away. It was a human.

  The tall man was wearing a blue robe and was leaning on a long metal staff covered with runes. His hair fell to his shoulders, long thick streaks of white mixed with the brown. His features were unremarkable but his eyes, one brown and one blue, were striking and held the king's gaze like magnets.

  “Hello, Shandon,” the young man said, his voice low and pleasant. “Forgive my intrusion. I came to convey my condolences for your loss.”

  “Simon?” the king gasped. “Simon O'Toole? Is it really you?”

  “It's really me, old friend,” Simon replied with a smile.

  Shandon gave his head a shake and then laughed with delight.

  “You're back, you scoundrel!” he exclaimed. “You're finally back!”

  He moved forward and reached out to clasp hands with Simon. Both of them grinned at each other.

  “Ah, it's like old times again.” Shandon said with delight. “Leave it to you to show up at a moment like this. Have you been hiding away in the Void all this time?”

  “I have,” Simon replied. “In a far off corner of it, out of the sight of the gods and their servants.”

  The wizard looked past Shandon at the marker.

  “You have been through some hard times,” he added with a nod at the gravestone.

  “Aye, that's true enough,” the king replied with a sigh. “What do you know about it?”

  “Enough to know that the Chaos lords are on the move,” Simon told him darkly. “They have decimated my people and set their goblin hordes loose across the face of the Earth. And now they are looking to wipe out the Elder races as well. The dwarves have proven to be too strong for them to easily sweep you away, but rest assured that they will try again.”

  “Aye, and we will be ready for them,” Shandon growled. “They will not surprise us a second time.”

  Simon smiled at him.

  “Good. That is what I hoped to hear.”

  “You said Elder races, plural,” Shandon said, narrowing his eyes as he watched the wizard. “Does that mean that the elves are in danger as well?”

  “They are,” Simon replied. “And now that their world is in convergence with ours, they are going to be an easy target for the dark gods and their ambitions.”

  Shandon stepped away from the small alcove where the marker was set and Simon moved with him. They began walking slowly through the garden, the king looking thoughtful as he considered Simon's words.

  “Do the elves know that they are about to become the target of the dark gods' wrath?” he asked.

  “They do, yes. I have sent them a warning through an intermediary. I don't know how they will respond, but at least they have been alerted to the imminent danger that threatens them.”

  “Will you aid them?” Shandon asked Simon as he stopped and turned to look up at his face.

  Simon sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. The gesture was so familiar to the king that he had to smile.

  “I am only recently fully healed from my battle with the dragon queen,” Simon told him. “I have gathered a group of heroes together over the past several years with the ultimate goal of taking our fight for this world to the gods themselves. But we are still training, working on our tactics, honing our skills. We are not ready to fight them yet. If we were to engage in battle anywhere on Earth or on the elves' home world, we would be exposed and the dark gods would learn of us and of our intentions. We are not prepared for that confrontation. Soon, I hope, but not now.”

  “A group of heroes?” Shandon said, staring at Simon with surprise. “And you want to fight the gods directly? Simon, are you mad? Wizard or not, you are still only human. You cannot battle a god, let alone the entire pantheon! You'd be squashed like a bug and your companions would be as well.”

  Simon chuckled and glanced at the runes that had begun glowing on his staff.

  “Perhaps so,” he admitted. “But my people are being wiped out, one person at a time. We are few in number now and if something isn't done, humanity is finished. Surely it is better to die fighting against the darkness than to stand back and watch as your entire race is exterminated?”

  Shandon grasped the hilt of the dagger on his belt tightly as he stared at the wizard.

  “Aye, I won't dispute that,” he agreed. “You feel for your people the same way that I do for mine. But to take on the dark gods? I fear that that is beyond even your skills. But that challenge lies in the future. What about now? What about the elves?”

  “I... I don't know, Shandon,” Simon admitted. “All I can do is watch and see how they respond to our mutual enemies. I pray that they can resist the forces of darkness without my help, but if they cannot, well... I will make my decisions if and when that happens.”

  “You know best, I suppose,” the king said dubiously. “We are still rebuilding from our own conflict with those damned gods. But if you do one day take the fight to them directly, don't forget your old comrade in arms, eh? I wouldn't mind taking a crack at killing a god. Imagine the stories that I could tell if we won!”

  Simon laughed and clasped the king's hand again. He shook it firmly and then took a step back.

  “You haven't changed a bit, my f
riend,” he said warmly. “Look after your people. They need you now more than ever. I will speak with you again in the not too distant future, I'm sure.”

  “You're leaving? So soon?”

  “I must. If I stay, I will surely be detected by our enemies.”

  “If you say so,” Shandon said reluctantly. “Just don't wait another handful of years before you visit again. And next time, we'll share a few mugs of ale and swap stories, eh?”

  “That sounds wonderful. Take care of yourself, Shandon.”

  “And you as well, Simon.”

  The wizard grinned at him and then, in a flash of silvery light, he was gone.

  Shandon turned and looked back thoughtfully at the quiet corner for a moment. He nodded at the marker and then began walking back toward the nearest entrance into the palace and the many duties awaiting within.

  “So Simon the wizard is alive and well,” he muttered to himself. “And he's plotting against the dark gods. Well now, I do believe that things are about to get a lot more interesting around here.”

  The End

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