by Eric Vall
“Gladly,” Barnik sneered, and Wyresus was whimpering once more as I firmly shut the door behind me.
“Weasely little shit,” I muttered as I made my way through the cellars of the library, and I tried to shake the lingering rage being near Wyresus had brought out in me.
It was almost impossible to ignore, though, because there was just no way the ogres would have ever been targeted without those Defenders in the Master’s hold. Even Haragh could kill a few mages in ten seconds flat if he wanted, and he was only half-ogre. Rounding up full-blooded ogres and managing to brand them was something only a select few could have accomplished, and I knew exactly where those few had come from.
They were Wyresus’ class of ego boosts, and they’d come to him with a level of magery already ripe for destruction. Feeding into this and immediately promoting them to a place of authority wasn’t his job. The head of the Order should have honed their skills, instilled a reliable level of self-control, and ensured they would be a credit to the Order if and when they finally reached the level of a Defender.
Now, they were unbridled, wholly informed on the inner workings of the Order, and out of our hands, and because of this, my best friend’s entire race was at risk. The Defenders were the leaders of a magical army now with the Master’s power at their backs, and if they’d dare to take on the ogres, they’d stop at nothing to bring Illaria to its knees within weeks.
I rifled my fingers through my hair as I left the Great Library, and I took the steps four at time as I tried to rein in my temper once more. My runes constantly muttering in the back of my mind didn’t help at all, and the onslaught of sounds within the underground city seemed to funnel directly into my head from every direction.
Then I caught a glimpse of disheveled hair much like my own, and as I slowed my pace, my gaze locked with Pindor’s. The kid was alone and looked to be headed for the sleeping quarters, and he almost nodded at me, but then quickly corrected the inclination and turned his back.
We each went our separate ways without acknowledging the other existed at all, and I actually found it difficult to do so, but I’d given the kid a pretty tricky and potentially dangerous job. He was under strict instructions to spy on the Baroness for me so I could figure out what her game was, and considering she was a Tenebrae Mage, we couldn’t risk a single misstep.
I was glad to see Pindor taking the job seriously, but still, I kind of missed having him around, even if was a cocky little shit these days. We’d sort of made up the other day when I saved him from the possessed mages in the western woods, though, and I could tell he was determined to turn things around.
He’d been part of our troop ever since the railway, and I didn’t doubt he’d be just as concerned as we all were about the ogres in the west. Hell, he’d probably insist on doing everything he could to help out, but right now, the biggest help he could provide meant no contact with any of us. He had to let the Baroness think he was completely alone.
If he could feed into her interest in him and get her answering his own questions, we could find out once and for all what side the elusive Tenebrae Mage was really working for. It was a long shot, of course, but it was the best I could come up with at the moment, and if the Baroness was trying to drink Pindor under a table just to get information about me, then I’d gladly rise to the occasion to find out why the hell she wanted to know so bad.
All of this only added to my current irritation, but I worked on shoving my frustration aside so I could focus on my meeting with the king, because there were way too many issues at stake to get caught up in how disappointed I was about the state of things. So, when I found Stan imitating Haragh throwing boulders around for Big Red, I let the silly sight bring out a chuckle in me.
“Alright, guys, that’s enough gossip for one day,” I sighed as I held out a hand for Stan. “We’ve got a meeting with the king to get to.”
Stan waved to his brother over my shoulder as we headed into the tunnel, and when I glanced back, all I could see was the long, hulking shadow of the automaton across the ground, and a faint warning glow of red that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Then Stan placed his metal hand on my cheek, and I knew he’d picked up on my sour mood.
“I’m alright, buddy,” I muttered. “Just a bit tense. Once we get this meeting settled, I should have a better idea of where we stand, and we can get a plan in place. Things will be looking up again in no time.”
Stan nodded his agreement, but he gave me a reassuring pat on the earlobe that honestly did make me feel better.
Once I tucked Stan into my breast pocket again, we crossed the castle courtyard while the nobility bowed their greetings here and there. The guards at the entrance offered two crisp salutes as they parted the doors for me, and I’d only made it three steps into the entrance hall when my focus was thoroughly derailed. Then I gradually slowed my steps as I registered a familiar voice echoing off the marble walls ahead.
“You can take your fuckin’ tariffs and shove ‘em up your ass until they come back out in diamonds!”
“That kind of language will not get you anywhere in this kingdom,” Temin sighed, and based on the exhaustion in his voice, I figured the discussion had been carrying on like this for a while now.
Still, I was grinning from ear to ear as I followed the next echoing string of curses, and when I turned into the great hall, I laughed heartily despite the tension etched into the king’s face.
“Dorinick! How the hell are you?”
The gruff dwarven general lowered his clenched fist as he turned around, and he snorted in disbelief.
“No shit. The elves didn’t kill ye’?”
Chapter 3
“Oh, they definitely tried,” I chuckled as I came over and took the dwarf’s hand for a hearty shake.
Dorinick was in his boiled dwarven leather attire with an impeccably wrought sword on his hip, and his thick black hair was pulled back in a knot at the base of his neck. His beard was a few inches longer than the last time I’d seen him, and I could barely make out his grin behind the curtain of his mustache.
“Didn’t Thrungrig tell you I was back when Haragh came up to get Big Guy?” I asked.
“Ahh, I haven’t been out at Thrungrig’s for a while now,” Dorinick said with a shrug. “Found a sweet little spot for minin’ pink sapphires just north of those giants you took care of.”
“Damn, you’re way up there?”
“Yeah, the ice giants aren’t much trouble now that they’re not possessed, so I figured I’d get in early on the new territory seein’ as the railway’s in place,” he explained. “You won’t find pink sapphires anywhere in the south, so they fetch a pretty price. Of course, now that’s all gone to hell ‘cause this shit-stain of a king of yours is--”
“General Dorinick, one more word against my crown, and I’ll have you barred from the whole kingdom,” King Temin warned, but the gruff dwarf just rolled his eyes, and when I saw the king’s cheeks flush with anger, I quickly cut in.
“This is about the trade tariffs, right?” I asked the dwarf. “Temin mentioned the nobility are giving him some trouble over the trade agreements with Orebane.”
“Aye, and they’ll not see a thing from us if they keep it up,” Dorinick growled. “Twenty percent tax on all food imports. Twenty percent! You think we can mill our own damn grain in the frigid mountains? Nooo, so why not starve us out like a bunch of peasants, yeah?”
“Twenty percent?” I asked incredulously. “Temin, is this true?”
“It is, but as I’ve said many times, it is out of my hands,” Temin sighed. “The barons have control over their own fiefs, and if this is the price they require to maintain their operations then--”
“Then they can kiss my dwarven ass,” Dorinick growled. “How about I tax that armor we sent south for ye’ last month, eh? Thirty percent on all metal goods. How’s that?”
“That’s madness,” Temin countered angrily. “You can’t instill a tariff on something the kingdo
m has already paid for in full.”
“Well, you can’t starve the entire north and expect to steal away with our best works!” Dorinick bellowed. “Fuck you and your barons! You keep this up, and Orebane will be forced to close the border off. This is exactly why we didn’t want your damn goods to begin with. The Elders already gave me orders to see it done, but I came here to give you a last chance at pullin’ your head out of your ass, Temin, and if this is the best you can offer, then you can go ahead and shove it up there as far as ye’ can manage for all I care.”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “The Elders want to close the border?”
“Aye,” Dorinick said with a disgruntled nod. “It’s no use letting the train pass if they’re robbin’ us blind. The Elders respect ye’, Mason, don’t think they don’t appreciate all you’ve done for us, but our work is valuable and a better quality than anything you’ll find in the markets here. All of Illaria thinks they’re entitled to it now, but what are the dwarves entitled, too, huh? Fuckin’ twenty percent tax for a bit of flour.”
I furrowed my brow as I considered this, and then I turned to Temin.
“You can’t let the barons increase the tariffs,” I told him. “Now more than ever, the alliance between Orebane and Illaria must be kept. We can’t risk losing our allies in the north, not with the direction everything’s heading.”
Temin sighed and rubbed his brow. “This alliance isn’t something I can ensure if the barons insist on having their way, while the dwarves refuse to--”
“Refuse to what?” Dorinick spat. “Refuse to let ye’ walk all over us? Horse shit!”
“Alright, just … ” I eyed the nobility who were strolling around the great hall and clearly eavesdropping, and I lowered my voice as I continued. “Can we discuss this in private quarters? I came here about some recent developments that have come to light, and both of you need to be aware of the situation before we carry on any more about closing borders.”
Temin paled a degree as his scowl faded, and he immediately stood and gestured for us to follow him. “Of course, Defender Flynt. We’ll retire to the throne room.”
I followed behind Temin with Dorinick at my side as we left the nobility to themselves and exited through an ornate iron door that led into a long marble hall. At the end, we came to another door, and once we were inside the king’s private throne room, Temin took his seat at a large oak table.
Dorinick and I sat opposite him, and the king fussed with his robes while he glanced nervously between the two of us.
“What are these recent developments, Defender Flynt?” Temin asked. “Is this to do with the automaton you brought yesterday? Because I’ve already made the announcement, and the citizens are fully at ease. Going back on what I’ve told them would be poor form at this point.”
“No,” I replied, “it’s about something that came up while I was at Mors Pass, and then immediately after leaving here yesterday.”
“Mors Pass?” Dorinick asked in shock. “You didn’t go to the dragon nesting grounds, did ye’?”
“I did,” I told him with a small smirk. “I needed to mine some channeling gems, but I can explain all of that later. More importantly, we were following a lead and had to scout the eastern foothills of Orebane. We heard the Master had a camp of possessed mages out there, but we needed to pinpoint an exact location. We never did find it when we scouted the area, but one of my women is capable of transmuting with dragons, and she--”
“Transmuting?” Temin asked with a frown. “What is that?”
“Possessed mages?” Dorinick added. “The hell is goin’ on down here?”
I sighed and tried to take a step back as I turned to Dorinick. “The Master was branding the elves by the hundreds to build his army when I got to Nalnora. We handled that alright, but then we got back to Serin to find out he’s been abducting the mages as well. Now, we’re missing our top Defenders, and the youngest mages aren’t skilled enough to protect themselves from the possessed mages, so we’re trying to avoid a complete overthrow of the Order.”
Dorinick just gaped in silence from behind his beard, so I turned to Temin to continue.
“Transmuting is a form of magic I learned about in Nalnora,” I explained. “With the use of a rune, Deya can transfer her consciousness into a dragon if she has one of their scales. She’s still present in her physical form, but it’s sort of like a meditation. When she closes her eyes and channels the power of this rune, she can enter the mind of the dragon, and then she can control them. She sees everything they can see, too.”
“Who’s Deya?” Dorinick asked in confusion.
“An elf I met in Nalnora,” I replied. “I’ll introduce you to her later. Anyways, she transmuted with a dragon whose scale she stole from Mors Pass, and when she flew over the foothills to scout the region again for this camp, she managed to locate it.”
“So, there is a camp then?” Temin asked uneasily.
“Technically? No,” I answered. “There’s an entire fortress.”
“In Orebane?” Dorinick demanded, and his eyes widened in shock.
“Yes, that’s why I need you two to hear me out on this,” I replied. “I still need to get more details on the place, but so far, it sounds like this could be the Master’s main headquarters, and he’s concealed it using rune magic. It’s in a barren region of the eastern foothills just north of the Nalnoran border.”
“Is your army prepared to attack?” Temin asked at once.
“No army of yours will be crossin’ our borders, Temin,” Dorinick warned angrily.
“It isn’t my army,” Temin sighed with irritation. “It is Mason Flynt’s army which I have commissioned him to lead in the name of Illaria.”
“That’s just a fancy way of sayin’ it’s your army,” Dorinick growled, but I stubbornly continued my discussion.
“My army isn’t anywhere close to prepared to take on possessed mages,” I told the king, “but I wouldn’t advise it even if I thought they could. It turns out there’s more than just mages at this fortress. Deya saw ogres as well who have been branded with the Master’s rune.”
“Ogres?” the two asked in unison, and both of them failed to mask their terror at the idea.
“It’s impossible,” Dorinick insisted. “They’re too violent to wrangle ‘em.”
“Th-they’re in the west,” Temin stammered as his face paled. “How could the Master have--”
“What the hell is he plannin’ to do with ogres in Orebane?” Dorinick demanded as he slammed his fist on the arm of his chair.
“I have a few ideas about all of this,” I assured them. “To start at the top, Wyresus promoted some highly questionable mages to Defenders since he took over as head of the Order. Everyone I’ve spoken to agrees none of them should have been trusted with the title so soon, and it sounds like they’re incredibly powerful, but unrestrained with their magery. Unfortunately, Wyresus took the opportunity to make his leadership appear more effective without considering the repercussions, and now these Defenders are all branded and working for the Master. They know all about the Order, the Oculus, and our lack of genuine leadership, and they’re using this information to effectively organize mass brandings and abductions in the area. I have an automaton on the job already and working to recapture the mages, but the ogres … ”
“Gods, the ogres will destroy us,” Temin gasped. “They’ll wipe us out, we have no alliance with their kind since the emancipation. It was a hasty and messy ordeal, which I do regret, but it’s done now. If they’re working for the Master, we will need more than your army or mine to protect the kingdom. We’ll need the mercy of the gods if we hope to survive all this.”
“We don’t know for sure that all of the ogres are working for him,” I pointed out. “That’s what I need to figure out as soon as possible. How many ogres are missing, how they’re being captured, and how many are left, if any. We need to make sure the Master can’t go ahead with this plan and prevent the kind of attack he
’s working toward.”
“That’s impossible,” Temin scoffed. “As I said, we have no alliance with the ogres. The divide between us is worse than it’s ever been, that’s why I agreed to the emancipation in the first place. There’s nothing to be done in dealing with their kind. Their brutality goes against everything this kingdom stands for.”
“We had no allegiance with the elves either,” I argued, “and until I went north, we had none with the dwarves. Temin, we can’t risk losing the ogres to the Master’s rule, no matter the politics involved. Not only because the ogres will destroy us, but because they don’t deserve to be abducted and forced into service for the Master’s cause. They deserve to survive, and for all of our sakes, they have to.”
Dorinick snorted in disagreement, and Temin looked like he was wavering on a rebuttal as well.
“You know I’m right,” I continued, and I was determined to make them see sense. “Why would you risk allowing the Master to gain the ogres? We’ll all suffer for it. If any ogres are left in the west, we need to gain an alliance with them and work together to prevent the enslavement of their race.”
“What about the enslavement of our mages?” Temin countered sternly. “Defender Flynt, the threat against the Order of the Elementa is more prevalent than the troubles of the ogres. This is your kingdom, sir, and you have vowed to protect it.”
“I am protecting it,” I informed the king, and I did my best to keep my tone steady. “Every single day I’m working to build our defenses from all sides, and that’s exactly what I’m talking about right now. We cannot withstand an army of possessed ogres, you’ve said it yourself. Pair them with the likes of the Defenders the Master has stolen from us, and Illaria will certainly fall. The other regions will be destroyed right along with us, so this is not a moment to be short sighted. We have to consider the grander scheme he has in mind. If we can prevent the mass enslavement of the ogres and gain an alliance in arms, then we’re no worse off than we were before this all came to light, and we maintain our place as well as the combined strength of our allies. If it’s not too late, we have to do everything we can to counter this development before the Master gains the upper hand. It’s our only option.”