Nine
Vikings didn’t wear horns. Wults didn’t, either. They also didn’t drink from skulls or wield clubs. I guess everyone gets stereotyped.
Wults did plunder. A lot. And they were pretty good at getting drunk, which I found out as soon as I blasted my way into the hall. I could have gagged from the stench of alcohol, but oddly, I didn’t detect any body odor. I suppose that was also a stereotype.
A man with a faded blond beard walked toward me, his eyes fixed on the broken doors. A leather tunic stretched over his large middle. He stood a few inches shorter than the average Wult, though he seemed no less intimidating. His smile seemed friendly enough, but with one glance at his hardened eyes, I decided to think twice before challenging him. I recognized him—King Herrick.
He tapped his fingers on his broadsword as he inspected the heap of wood. “You’ve broken our doors.” He spoke with calmness, though I heard the displeasure in his voice. “What an interesting display.” He calmly removed his sword from his sheath and pointed the blade at my heart. “Have you come to challenge us? Because if you have, know that you are treading dangerous waters. We are not used to challenges by half-elven outsiders, though your boldness is duly noted.”
I took a step away from his sword and weighed my choices. Choice one: I could fight. I could demand the Wults accompany me to their temple ruins. I could put on a showy display, maybe break a few tables, smash some helmets, and let them know I was serious. I was the sky king’s charge, and they had to do what I asked. I had enough magic to bring down this whole building if I wanted. Choice two: I could ask nicely.
“I’m not here to challenge you. As the sky king’s ward, I’ve come to ask a favor.”
“I don’t grant favors.”
Of course he didn’t. Fine. New tactic.
“I’ve come to propose a bargain.”
This seemed to get his attention. I knew that with the mention of the sky king, his head had filled with all sorts of images of dragon loot.
“Bargain?”
“Yes.”
He eyed me for a moment longer. Silence filled the hall. He must’ve been deciding whether to behead me or accept me—Wults never did anything halfway.
His face stretched into a smile, and he replaced his sword. Lopsided scars pulled at his ruddy skin. “A bargain!” He clapped me on the shoulder, then pulled me toward the center of the room, where tables sat laden with enough food to feed the Wults until next spring. “Brodnik, bring the lady some ale.”
A man—I assumed Brodnik—shoved a large tankard at me. I grabbed it before it splashed my Docs. “Thank you,” I mumbled.
We stopped by a table adorned with every cut of meat imaginable. Bones littered the floor, most of them picked clean. “Some boarhound for our visitor,” King Herrick called as he pushed me toward a bench.
I took a seat beside a Wult woman who wore her dark hair in a long braid. She gave me a smug glance as I sat next to her.
King Herrick grabbed a knife, impaled it through the boarhound flank, and shoved it onto a plate in front of me. “Eat!” he called. “And then we bargain.”
I was still going with option one, so I supposed I’d better make a good show of it. In true Wult fashion, I grabbed the thighbone and ripped a chunk of meat out of the flesh. I supposed I made a good impression on the king, because he slapped my back with enough force to make my teeth rattle.
After a few mouthfuls of food, King Herrick took a seat across from me. He laughed and talked with the Wults surrounding him, but I got the impression he was doing more than that. Maybe I’d grown paranoid, but I got the feeling he was sizing me up, looking for my weaknesses.
“And what would this bargain be about?” he asked after a pause in the conversation.
I swallowed my mouthful of boarhound. “I need permission to travel to the Wult temple in the Borderlands.”
King Herrick knitted his brows. “For what reason?” His tone changed. He sounded more confrontational. I needed to choose my words wisely.
“I suspect a spell has been enacted in the temple ruins. My godson’s spirit is being held captive there.”
“Those ruins are sacred. Forbidden to outsiders.”
“That’s why I’ve come—to get permission to travel there.”
King Herrick leaned forward. “Those ruins are forbidden to outsiders for a reason.”
A hush came over the room.
“Evil spirits dwell in that place. I doubt you’ll get a soul in this hall to take you there.”
I glanced around the room. Surely, he couldn’t be serious. I had to get to those ruins no matter what. A big fellow with a rust-colored beard sat near me. He shook his head when I looked to him. Another woman did the same.
“I can’t accept that answer. If no one will accompany me, then I’d like permission to go by myself.”
King Herrick’s leather creaked as he leaned forward. “Trespassing on holy ground isn’t taken kindly by our people.”
Translation: Go there, and we’ll kill you. Right.
“I can offer money.”
“No good.”
“Treasures from Earth Kingdom, perhaps?”
He shook his head.
Go to the ruins and be killed. Don’t go, and Jeremiah would die. I felt trapped. There must have been another solution. I could go with choice two, but I felt as if that should be a last resort.
“I’ll take her.” I heard a voice across the room and turned. My old buddy Thor the Skullsplitter leaned against the wall, all casualness, as he stared at me.
Great, I wasn’t sure this counted as an option, either. I wondered what he’d want in return. My firstborn?
King Herrick’s voice boomed though the hall. “Kull?”
“I’ve heard tales of Earth Kingdom’s dinosaurs. I’d like the carcass of one in return.”
I coughed to hide my laugh. “Dinosaurs?”
“I’ll kill the beast myself as long as you can take me to it.”
Maybe I should go along with this. He didn’t need to know they were extinct. Then again, I’d already decided I didn’t want this guy as my enemy.
“No good. The dinosaurs are all dead—have been for several million years. Only their skeletons remain.”
“Dead?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
Kull heaved a disappointed sigh. “Ah, well. I suppose I could settle for the bones of one of the beasts.”
A dinosaur skeleton? Houston’s natural science museum had a T-Rex on display. Stealing it wouldn’t be easy, but with my magic, it might be possible. I couldn’t believe I was actually contemplating this. But did I have a choice when it came to Jeremiah’s life?
“Assuming I help you get the skeleton, will you take me to the ruins first?”
Kull scratched his beard. “Possibly.”
The King rose. “Don’t forget about your marriage, my son.”
So, this was the famous prince. Were the rumors about him true? I’m sure Princess Euralysia was thrilled to be getting hitched to this guy. Would the T-Rex skeleton be her wedding gift? Would he mount it on the ceiling over their bed?
King Herrick crossed his arms. “I won’t allow it.”
A deviant smile spread across Kull’s face. “You think I’ll run?”
“I know you will.”
Prince Kull jumped onto the table. “Do you think I’ll run?” he shouted.
The Wults clamored, “No!”
“No?” Kull asked.
I felt like I was watching one of those wrestling matches. If Kull had changed his name to the Kidney Crusher and put on some hideous spandex, I was sure it would have been.
“You think I’ll let you down? Let our country go to war because I don’t want to sit still?”
“No!”
I could see it in everyone’s eyes. Devotion. The people loved this guy.
“Your king thinks I’ll run. Do you?”
“No!” they shouted.
King Herrick stepped forward. His eye
s smoldered. “Get off the table.”
Kull’s smile faded. He didn’t move.
King Herrick’s hand moved to his belt.
“What’s this?” a voice shouted from the broken doorway. A pair of elven soldiers stood at the door. I recognized one of the guards as the man who’d escorted me in here. He surveyed the room, took one look at me, and narrowed his eyes.
“Who did this?” shouted the other guard.
Kull jumped off the table and strode toward the guards. “No need for shouting.”
“She did it.” The first guard pointed at me. “The sky king’s ward. Go get the magistrate.”
“What about the door?” the guard asked.
“The magistrate will repair it.”
Kull walked toward them. “I’m sure there’s no need for the magistrate.”
I chimed in. “This was a misunderstanding. I can fix the doors. Really, the magistrate doesn’t need to be involved.”
“You must go and fetch him immediately,” the first guard said to his friend.
The guard gave me a severe look as his buddy left the room. He pointed his basita weapon at Kull as the prince closed the distance between them. “Stay there,” he called.
Kull raised his hands as he inched forward. “Do you really want to make a bad impression on your future kinsman?”
“I said stay there.”
Kull stopped a few inches from the barrel of the basita gun. I wondered what Kull was up to.
The guard swallowed. “I have orders. You’re to stay here until the marriage is final.”
“Am I? Must have slipped my memory.”
The guard leveled his gun at Kull’s chest. “I said not a step further.”
Kull lunged at the guard. The elf dropped his weapon and fell back. Kull scooped up the basita. Metal squeaked as he bent it in half. The guard tried to scramble upright when Kull placed one foot on the man’s chest.
Kull laughed as the guard struggled to stand.
King Herrick stomped toward his son. His already-ruddy cheeks flared bright red. “Son, stop this!”
“I haven’t harmed him.”
“Return his weapon.”
“I was about to.” Kull tossed the hunk of metal onto the floor. It clanged near the guard’s head.
“Get off him!”
Footsteps echoed up the hallway.
The elf guard reappeared, followed by a man I had wanted desperately to avoid. He’d arrived so quickly, I guessed the magistrate wasn’t as busy as I’d been encouraged to believe.
“What has happened in here?” the guard not on the floor demanded.
On shaky feet, the second guard rose and grabbed his useless lump of metal. Kull crossed his arms. “No need for panic.”
“He broke my weapon.”
“An accident.”
“He lies!”
Both guards turned to the magistrate. Unfazed, he peered at the broken doors. His face remained a mask of calm intelligence. He didn’t react to the broken weapon. Instead, he seemed more intent on studying the shattered wood.
When he turned to me, I couldn’t help but flinch.
“Hello, Olive,” he said in his silken voice. “You did this?”
I plastered a smile to my face. Might as well get this over with. “Yes, Father, I did.”
Dreamthief Page 13