The Phantom Dwarf

by J. M. Fosberg

  Phelim raised his hand and a half dozen or so bones came flying toward him from the dead bodies. They were small bones, most likely parts of hands of feet. The bones spun slowly in a circle above his hand. “As I said, I can control the bodies and bones of the dead. Anything that was once alive and now is dead has residual magic left in it. One of the abilities of all necromancers is to access the latent magic of dead things. What I did was tap into that magic and propel those bones forward into the charging fighters. Those men were members of Morden’s band. They were criminals, probably coming to kill you in an attempt to reestablish their position in the city now that Morden is gone.”

  “How do you know that?” Grundel asked.

  “The squiggly line tattooed above their left thumb identifies them as members of that gang,” Jerrie explained.

  “How did you know that?” Crissy asked.

  “I grew up in a city. I am familiar with how the underbelly works. It didn’t take me long to figure out who was who in Portwein. I spent a couple nights in the bars and figured out the hierarchy of the criminal organizations.”

  Grizzle stepped forward so that he was in the center of the group. “Master Phelim used the skills he possesses to help in the fight just like each of us does. Now I say we push out of these trees. I am all for the cover they provide, but I don’t want to sleep in this mess and we can’t clean this up and still get any sleep. We will sleep outside the edge of the trees and post two watches. Get that fire put out, and let’s get this camp moved. Jerrie, you and Rundo see if you can salvage any of their gear. Grundel, you take a couple of dwarves and follow Evelyn back to where they left their horses. Bring them back to the camp. Everyone else, start moving the camp. I want everyone bedded down within the hour. We will be moving at sun up.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two Kings

  King Patria rode toward the main gate of Portwein. He had sent the majority of his army back to Patria. He knew that having his army sitting outside the city wouldn’t do much to help Boris’s tenuous position. He had waited until a couple of days after Boris had taken control of the city before he arrived. He was going to put his support behind Portwein’s new king and then make his way back to Patria. He had been away from his home for too long. He knew that his cousin would be taking good care of the city, but he also knew that her place was beside Grizzle. He had kept a royal guard of fifty soldiers with him. Now he rode toward the towering new wall of Portwein with his guard all around him. The city may have a new king, but that didn’t mean that someone wouldn’t take advantage of a chance to dispose of another city’s king, given the opportunity.

  When he reached the gate, there were two dozen soldiers waiting there for him. His guards made a space for the leader of the city guard. The man who approached them rode a beautiful white stallion. His plate armor was freshly polished, and the sun reflected off it, shining directly into his eyes from a dozen different places. “King Patria, I am Captain Wache. King Boris sent me to escort you to the palace. If you would follow us, we will ensure you make it through the city safely.”

  “Thank you, Captain. We will follow you. I assume you have a place for my men to rest once we reach the palace?” Patria responded.

  “I will personally see to it that your men are taken care of, Your Highness.”

  Patria nodded, and the man turned his mount around and led them into the city. The people of Portwein stopped what they were doing to watch them pass. Most of them wouldn’t even know who he was until he had already passed. He knew that there would be people in the city who did not agree with Boris being king. Many of the people would be against him, because they would be worried he would stop dishonest dealings that Merwein had allowed, others would be against him simply because they didn’t want change. His guards were prepared for an attack and, even as he rode through the city maintaining his composure, he scanned rooftops and windows. The last year had made him all too aware of how real the threat could be, and he had become much more alert as the reality of danger had been thrust upon him. Dozens of people appeared in windows and on rooftops, but none of them did anything threatening. After making their way through the city, they finally arrived at the very extravagant palace, which gleamed with white marble and gold-plated railings.

  Boris stood inside the gold-plated gate with a rank of guards on each side of him. The gate opened and one of the guards came and took the reins of Patria’s horse. He dismounted and made his way toward Portwein’s new king. They stopped in front of each other, and Boris offered his left hand, his only hand. Patria took the offered hand in his.

  Boris was the first to speak. “Welcome, King Patria. Portwein is happy to have you, and I am grateful for your support.”

  “It has been a long time since I have been to Portwein. I am excited to see what the city on the coast has to offer,” Patria responded as they both made their way side by side toward the palace steps.

  Patria looked back toward his men. The guards were leading them through the grounds, most likely to a barracks. Just as the last man rounded the palace, he heard the distinct sound of steel sliding along leather. He drew his own sword as he turned. He saw the two guards just inside the palace. The one who had drawn his sword was already advancing on King Boris. The other was drawing his sword. Captain Hector had stayed at his side. He expected him to go charging into the fight, but instead he heard the clash of steel behind him. Hector was fighting two other guards who had appeared at the bottom of the step. Hector already had both men defending, so Patria turned and rushed to Boris’ side.

  Boris stood his ground and let the guard advance. If he drew his sword, the other man would already be attacking. He let the man be overconfident and his mind immediately went through a dozen different attacks the man was likely to lead with, coming up with the best possible way to defend or counter.

  The soldier chose a straight thrust at his abdomen. He stepped inside the thrust, avoiding the tip of the blade. He reached for the hilt, knowing the guard would change direction. He also knew that he couldn’t avoid a cut. He accepted the blade and winced as the skin between his ribs and the blade separated. He pushed the blade away. The other man was so focused on regaining control of his weapon he didn’t see Boris’ true intention. His forehead smashed into the other man’s face, crushing his nose. The guard’s grip loosened on the sword as he stumbled back. Boris pulled the sword away. Patria went past him as he stepped forward, driving the guard’s own sword into his chest. The sickening hiss of air releasing was followed by the man grunting. The sound of battle to his left overtook the man’s dying throes, and Boris turned his attention to helping Patria. To his surprise, the palace-raised king was more than capable with his own weapon.

  Patria ran past Boris as he smashed his forehead into the other man’s face. It was easy to see that even with only one arm, Boris outmatched his attacker. He couldn’t let this other man get an advantage. The guard had drawn his sword and had pulled a shield off of the wall. The shield was an ornamental piece though. At one time, it may have been a true shield, but Merwein had been obsessed with plating everything in gold. Patria could see that the man was surprised by the weight of the shield. He was extremely off balance. Patria feigned a downward slash at the guard’s head. He wisely chose to defend with his sword over trying to raise the heavy shield. Patria turned his feint into a weak rap on the gold-plated shield. Even the uncommitted attack left a deep gouge in the soft gold.

  The attack had forced the other man’s arm down. Patria rapped his blade against the shield again to keep the arm down. He brought his sword up, bringing the blade along the man’s bicep. The guard shouted in pain and dropped the shield. Patria circled the man toward his injured arm. A half circle of blood splatter already covered the white marble around them. He started to swing high at the wounded shoulder while he shifted his feet. His left foot came forward as the guard raised his sword to block. His sword had barely made contact with the other man’s steel when he spun, dropping to a
squat and bringing his sword around. His blade slammed into the outside of the man’s right knee. The blade caught in the joint, and he rolled away as the man fell to the ground, flailing in pain. He dropped his sword and reached for his wounded leg as if grabbing the wound might somehow push back the pain, screaming.

  Patria stood and snatched the sword out of the other king’s hand. He turned back toward the steps and threw it. The sword flew in what seemed like slow motion. The sword flipped end over end and bounced unceremoniously off of the guard’s back. He spun to defend against the new attacker. That was the opening Captain Hector needed. The man had barely turned around when a sword tip punched through the leather armor covering his stomach. The other guard tried to take advantage of Hector’s sword being caught. Hector left the sword in the dying man, ducked under the slash that nearly scalped him, and drove a dagger that he had drawn so fast Patria hadn’t seen where it had come from into the bottom of the other man’s chin.

  The guard’s body froze. King Patria saw the realization in the man’s eyes. He stood up straight. His sword fell to the ground, and his arms dropped to his sides. The life left the man’s eyes. Hector pulled his dagger free and stepped back. The man was already dead; his body just hadn’t figured it out yet. He managed to get one foot in front of him, but the next step failed him. He fell forward, his face bouncing off of the bottom step. He lay there dead, his neck bent backward at an unnatural angle.

  By the time this was all over, there were guards from inside the palace surrounding Hector. They were protecting Hector and turning toward King Patria and his guard. Patria looked around and realized what the men must see. The dead men were all palace guards, and they were the only two standing.

  Before the guards could try to attack, Hector called out to them, “Halt! They saved me. It was our guards who attacked.” Hector started giving orders and pretty soon there were dozens of guards running around, checking towers and gates. They were bringing back news from each of the guard towers.

  Patria walked over and stood over the body of the man who was still screaming in agony. Hector stepped up next to him. “All three of the guard shacks on this side of the castle were infiltrated. They killed their own men and came after us.”

  The two of them stared down at the man in front of them. Hector placed his foot on the wounded man’s arm. He slowly put his weight down. The man screamed out even louder. “Who sent you?” Hector asked.

  The man looked up at the king. “Dragons!”

  “What?” both men asked together.

  The man smiled through gritted teeth. He had one last stab to take at the kings. “Black Dragons. They are rebuilding. They are training more men and growing stronger. They are going to take over Portwein.” He looked over at Patria. “They have already sent men to remove Queen Stoneheart from Patria. The Black Dragons are reclaiming control of the five cities. The Dwarves are weak. While the dwarves are distracted, who will help you fend off the power of the dragons? You are both living on borrowed time.”

  “But yours is up,” Boris said and slid the point of his retrieved sword between the man’s ribs and into his heart. The man’s body jerked for a moment in protest before falling limp at their feet.

  “I have to get back to Patria,” King Patria told King Boris.

  “I’ll have my men send for yours. I’ll also have the kitchen throw together some supplies. I would go with you if I could but—”

  Patria cut him off. “You’re the king now. You have your own responsibilities here.”

  Boris slid his sword into its scabbard and held his hand out to the other king. “We will destroy the Black Dragons together.”

  Patria looked at him. “I have already started a group of men called the White Dragons. They are warriors and wizards training to fight the Black Dragons. They have been fairly successful so far. If you want, I can send some of them to help train your men.”

  Boris nodded. “Anything you can do would be appreciated, but don’t put yourself at risk doing it.”

  Patria smiled. “I am not the Great Commander Boris, but I am not helpless either.”

  “No,” Boris said as he looked at the men around them and then up at the palace-raised king with honest respect. “No, you are not.”

  “Good luck, my friend,” Patria said as he made his way down the steps.

  Boris called down the steps, “Patria!”

  The king stopped on the steps and turned.

  Boris smiled. “Dobo and Gobo are going to be so mad they missed all of this.”

  Patria smiled. “Maybe they won’t! There is still a Dwarf Queen involved, even if she is human.”

  The two men shared a smile before turning and going to give orders to their men.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Phantom King

  Bergmann was trapped in the body of this fool dwarf. He had continued to try to escape, but he just couldn’t. He was completely aware of everything that was happening around this dwarf and he never slept. He watched helplessly as the dwarves came in administered the thorn apple, which completely immobilized the body. The mind inside the dwarf’s body was equally as subdued as his body. He had tried to take hold of the mind of the dwarf, but he couldn’t access the other dwarf’s awareness. No matter what Bergmann attempted, he couldn’t escape. He was imprisoned in this body.

  ***

  As Grizzle rode forward toward Tiefes Loch, the knot in his stomach seemed to tighten and grow. He had no idea what he would find when he got there. He had left Tiefes Loch in very capable hands, but there was no telling what Bergmann could have done over the last couple of weeks. He could see that Grundel was nervous as well.

  Grundel had left Frau in Tiefes Loch. They had done a good job of not showing how difficult it was for them to leave each other, and Grizzle was proud of how well his son had dealt with this relationship. The two of them were in love, and they were likely going to be bonded, but as a queen she had to keep the relationship proper, and even though Grizzle had abandon his own claim to the Evermount throne, how he handled his relationships would be watched. Grizzle had ran off and eloped. It was a huge controversy, and Grizzle’s own father had to banish him for endangering the Stoneheart bloodline. His son was handling his own relationship much better. Grizzle watched his son walk his horse toward Tiefes Loch. He continued to look over at his son, who had not taken his eyes off of the shining sword standing on the mountain.

  ***

  Frau and Fuhrung stood on the landing at the base of the huge sword monument on Tiefes Loch, watching as the dwarves approached. All of Tiefes Loch was anxious to see if the dwarves would return with the necromancer.

  ***

  Grizzle and Grundel walked toward the base of Tiefes Loch with the necromancer between them. Kraft walked at Grizzle Stoneheart’s right. The others followed behind. The dwarves who had ridden with them had taken the cart and horses, and now they walked up to the bottom of the steps. The mountain was covered with dwarves. Grizzle stared up at the menacing face of Tiefes Loch. Evermount was much larger, but the sheer faces and jagged edges made this mountain look much more dangerous. Evermount was a magnificent sight, but Tiefes Loch was forbidding. Grizzle couldn’t help but think that if they couldn’t stop Bergmann, the mountain would be much more ominous.

  Two dwarf soldiers waited at the base of the steps. As the two dwarf kings and the dwarf prince approached, the dwarves brought their fists to their chests in salute. They followed the dwarf guards going up the stairs in two columns. At the landing, they met with Frau and Fuhrung. Fuhrung brought his fist to his chest. Grizzle saluted back, but watched Frau’s eyes, which went to Grizzle, scanning him for injuries. He could see the struggle going on in her mind. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but she was restrained by protocol. She was a dwarf queen and had to maintain her composure.

  Kraft must have seen it as well, because he quickly sped things along. “Queen Frau, why don’t you take us to the King’s Hall and let us know what has happened
since we left Tiefes Loch?”

  Frau nodded to the king of Haufen and made her way up the steps to the entrance of Tiefes Loch. Fuhrung allowed the rest of them to follow her before falling in behind Jerrie and Crissy.

  The dwarves of Tiefes Loch cheered as the necromancer who would stop the Phantom of King Bergmann made his way into the kingdom. The cheers of dwarves followed them through the mountain as they made their way toward the king’s hall.

  ***

  Bergmann could hear the cheering of the dwarves throughout Tiefes Loch. He listened for any clue to what the dwarves could be so excited about. He had never heard excitement like this in Tiefes Loch while he was alive. The not knowing was driving him crazy. As much as he listened, he never heard any clue of what they were excited about. The anticipation was maddening. He had nothing but time; he would continue on after all of these dwarves had died, and he knew he should be patient, but the frustration of being trapped in this body was overcoming his sensibility. As the cheering grew louder, moving through Tiefes Loch toward him, his anger and frustration grew with it.

  ***

  As the door to the assembly hall closed, Frau threw her arms around Grundel. Grundel wrapped his own massive arms around her. He had to bend down to do so, but even in this company, lifting a dwarven queen in the air like a child wouldn’t be appropriate.

  “You did it,” she told him.

  “We did it. What happened here while we were gone?”

  She immediately stepped back and looked around the room at the others. “We trapped him!”

  “You trapped him where?” Phelim asked.