The troop approached the waiting group steadily, Captain Stoneblade walking with his right hand resting casually on his belt next to his sword hilt. He was staring grim-faced at the silent, menacing figures as he walked and showed no sign of slowing down as the escort approached them.
“Hold!” one of the group ahead called out when the troop had gotten to within twenty feet of them.
The captain raised a hand and all of his warriors, Simon included, stopped in unison.
The wizard tried to see what these enemies of his looked like, but it was impossible. All of them were wearing cloaks and hoods that concealed their faces and bodies. He couldn't even tell if they were male or female or wearing armor. He guessed that they were all armed though.
There was a strained silence that stretched out between the two groups. Captain Stoneblade simply stared coldly at the traitors, showing no sign of impatience or anger. Simon thought that the dwarf could probably stand like that forever.
Apparently the opposition came to the same conclusion and one of them finally stepped out of the group to speak.
“Hand that human over to us and you may proceed unharmed. Otherwise we will take him by force.”
The captain looked the shrouded figure up and down and then glanced at the others behind him.
“Will you now?” he asked contemptuously. “And how do you plan on doing that? Honorable dwarves would not hide their faces from their foes and threaten them. But then again, an honorable dwarf would not stoop to kidnapping and murder, now would he?”
The shrouded leader moved slightly backwards at the captain's words and Simon thought that he heard a creak as the dwarf tightened his hand on a weapon.
“Your insults are meaningless. We do what we do to keep our race pure. These humans are a cancer, a corruption in the middle of our city. And like a disease, it must be cut out before it spreads. Already others are dealing with this wizard's friends who have dared to try to live among us. But like a snake, the head must be removed before the body will die.”
Simon gasped in shock. Dealing with his friends? My God, had they attacked the other humans? Why?
“You slimy, hateful bastard!” he growled.
He might have done something stupid then if the nearest warrior hadn't taken hold of his arm firmly.
“Easy, sir wizard,” she whispered. “They are goading us. Be patient and trust in the captain.”
He took a deep breath and nodded once in acknowledgment.
Damn it, Simon, he thought, you know better than to let some idiot get to you like that. You're going to get everyone killed. Smarten up.
The guard released her grip on his arm and stepped back.
Captain Stoneblade hadn't taken his eyes off of the leader of the traitors. He had obviously heard Simon but had trusted that no one would do anything precipitous.
“Odd that you would think that this one human is so important to the others,” the captain said coldly. “He isn't their leader. Odder still that you would think that members of the royal guard would just hand over someone they'd been ordered to protect. That isn't going to happen. So, now what?”
“Didn't you hear me?” the cloaked figure said loudly. “If you do not give him up to us, right now, you will all die. For a human! How can you risk your lives for such a contemptible species?”
“Bah. The only contemptible people I see at the moment are standing right in front of me and blocking my path. Now, this conversation has gone on long enough. Either make way for us or attempt to take the wizard by force. But whatever you do, you'd best hurry. I'm guessing that you won't be able to keep the rest of the royal guard distracted for much longer.”
Simon heard a high-pitched whistle and looked around in confusion. At the same time, one of the dozen cloaked figures collapsed in a heap at the back of the group.
“Oh dear,” the captain said with mock concern. “I do believe that your time is up.”
“What?”
The enemy leader spun around just in time to see his people stagger and fall in rapid succession, the whistle of unseen arrows blending together into one continuous wail of death.
“But how?” the hooded dwarf asked in dismay. “We led them away. We kept them off-guard. What...”
Captain Stoneblade didn't hesitate. While his opponent was distracted, he drew his blade, walked forward quickly and rested it between the dwarf's shoulder blades.
“Yield or die,” he rumbled ominously. “It means the same to me either way.”
The figure quickly raised his arms and two of Simon's escort rushed forward to restrain him. They spun him around to face the captain and tore off his hood.
A wild-eyed dwarf wearing a chain coif stared in fear and rage at all of them. Simon wondered which emotion was causing him to shake so uncontrollably.
While the three remaining escorts stayed close to the wizard, Captain Stoneblade walked around the fallen traitors and poked them with his armored boot.
“Good shooting,” he said with a nod. “Each one dropped with a single shot, each shot fatal. Well done.”
“Well, I do keep only the best on staff, do I not?” an amused voice said from the shadows.
The captain turned toward the speaker and stiffened to attention. He brought his fist to his chest in salute and all of the other warriors copied him.
Another dwarf, taller and broader than the armored guards at his heels, came forward. Simon guessed that he and his guards had been waiting inside one of the buildings overlooking the street.
“Shandon!” he exclaimed as he finally saw the familiar face. “You're here!”
“Of course I'm here,” the king replied with obvious delight. “Where else would I be? I wanted to see this entire sad affair to its inevitable conclusion. Sorry to use you as bait, my friend, but I needed to draw out the rest of the traitors and this seemed the best way to do it.”
Shandon Ironhand walked past the prisoner without even a glance and took Simon's hand.
“Well met, my friend. Well met indeed. How are you feeling? I cannot tell you what a blow it was to me that a guest of the city, and a friend at that, was subjected to such mistreatment.”
He turned to glare at the restrained traitor and the dwarf's face went deathly pale.
“Honor used to be the driving force of my people,” he continued. “How sad that it is now in such short supply.”
“You dishonor all of us by allowing the infection that is humankind to sully our city!” the prisoner blurted out boldly.
Captain Stoneblade turned and grabbed the dwarf by the throat.
“You can wait for the gallows or end your miserable existence here in the gutter with the rest of your traitorous scum,” he growled.
The prisoner squealed and thrashed around, trying to breathe.
“It's all the same to me,” the captain added and let him go.
All of them waited for the dwarf to regain his breath but he said nothing more. Apparently he wanted to live for a while longer.
“I'm fine, thanks to Opheilla,” Simon told the king. “She's starting to make saving my life into a habit.”
Shandon chuckled.
“She's done the same for me, luckily. But it shouldn't have been necessary in the first place. These 'pure-bloods',” he nodded at the prisoner that was being taken away toward the palace by two of the royal guard, “as they've begun to call themselves, are our shame and needed weeding out. Fortunately, this last sad episode has brought their plotting days to an end.”
Simon took a moment to look at the king's escort. There were at least a dozen warriors, several armed with bows, and all wearing the black enameled armor of the royal guard. He noted that they were all still scanning the area alertly, just in case there were other threats to the king.
“Now come along, Simon. You look like you could use a rest, and I need some ale. It's been a bad few days.”
Shandon led the way toward the royal palace with the wizard by his side. They walked around the bodies of t
he fallen traitors as they went.
“Braiden, get someone to clean that up, would you?” the king asked as they walked by.
“Yes, my lord. At once,” the captain replied.
“My people are nervous enough right now with the threat of the Chaos lords, “ Shandon said to Simon quietly. “Finding a mound of corpses clogging up the street when they wake up would not help in the least.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Um, Shandon, that guy back there said that the other humans living here were 'being dealt with'. Do you know if they're okay?”
The king gently reached up and clapped a hand on the wizard's shoulder.
“Rest easy, my friend. Your people are safe. The traitors never even made it to the human section of the city. One of their compatriots that we captured on the raid to save you sang us a sweet song. He told us all about their plans, including your ambush this evening. It was easy enough to round up the others before they became a threat. They're rotting in the dungeon now, awaiting the king's justice.”
Simon glanced down at him and Shandon winked.
“Oh, don't look so glum. I'm aware of your sensibilities and I have no intention of making martyrs out of the lot of them by having them executed. No matter how tempting that thought is. But they can rot in the bowels of the palace until the end of time for all I care, you can be sure of that. It's no better than they deserve.”
The wizard breathed a sigh of relief. The thought of a wholesale slaughter of the traitors, no matter their crimes, was horrible to him and he was pleased that the king was going to let them live.
You'd feel differently if they had killed Tamara and the others, the insidious little voice inside of him said.
True enough. But they didn't, so hush, he told it.
Shandon led the way into the palace. The massive gates opened with barely a sound and the king, Simon and their escort finally entered the ancient edifice.
They were met by the seneschal, Ragar Blackrock, and a dozen plainly-dressed servants just inside the main hallway.
“I am relieved to see you alive and well, sir wizard,” he said with a slight bow.
“Thanks. It's good to see you as well.”
“Ragar, my guest is tired and could use some refreshment,” Shandon told the seneschal. “See to it, would you? We'll be in my library.”
This time, the seneschal bowed deeply to the king.
“Of course, my lord. I will take care of it personally.”
“Good. This way, Simon.”
The king walked down the wide hallway lined with dozens of martial paintings and lit by large lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The floor was plain gray stone and Shandon's boots rang off of the hard surface.
“You don't use the electrical lighting?” Simon asked as they walked.
“No, never liked it myself. We've only gone back to the old inventions since the dark gods returned to plague the world.”
The king looked up at the yellow light glowing from the heavy lamps overhead.
“Besides, I like the color. Those blasted arc lights are too harsh, in my opinion. And if the gods of Justice manage to defeat the Chaos lords, perhaps the magic available to power them will be lessened. It doesn't pay to rely too heavily on such things.”
Simon nodded thoughtfully.
“That's a good point. We don't know how much magic will be available if the Light defeats the Darkness.”
“Exactly. Ah, here we are.”
A thick oaken door led off of the main hallway and Shandon opened it and waved Simon through.
“You lot can wait out here,” the king said to his guards. “I'll be sure to scream loudly if the wizard attempts to overpower me.”
Several of the warriors snorted with laughter as Shandon closed the door behind him.
“Grab a chair anywhere. You look like I could knock you over with a feather.”
They had entered a small room with bookshelves lining all four walls. There was a narrow window covered by thick purple curtains across from the door and a fireplace lined with veined marble to the right of the entrance.
Simon sat down on the nearest seat, a heavy overstuffed chair covered in black leather. It was such a relief to finally sit down and rest in safety that he closed his eyes and smiled with pleasure.
“I was right; you're exhausted.”
He opened his eyes reluctantly and watched as Shandon threw a few logs on to the embers in the fireplace and moved them around with a poker until they ignited. The wood smelled spicy and Simon found the scent delightful.
“Not exhausted, really,” he disagreed. “More...stretched a bit thin, I guess. The last few days have been a little crazy.”
The king's gravelly chuckle was his only answer as he took a seat across from Simon.
“So what now?” the wizard asked quietly. “Orrina at the Diamond Inn said that you wanted to see me in the flesh. It's taken a while but here I am.”
“Aye, so you are, with all flesh intact.”
Shandon laughed again and then his face changed as his voice took on a more somber tone.
“These human-hating traitors were a surprise to me. The dwarves have always been an insular people, mind you, but to see the desperate hatred this group holds for you and yours? It's been a shock.”
“Any idea what set them off?” Simon asked as he forced himself to sit up and stay alert. “Was it me?”
The dwarf shook his heavy head and gazed broodingly into the fire.
“No, although I have no doubt that your arrival may have exacerbated the situation somewhat. What really started the whole mess escalating was my willingness to accept your people as refugees. That's when we started to hear rumbles. It was all 'dwarven lands for dwarves alone' and other nonsense. Nothing overt, of course, but my spies heard many whispers. And they continued to get louder and louder until you arrived and were kidnapped.”
Shandon stood up and began to angrily stomp around the library.
“Imagine that! Laying hands on someone named a dwarf friend. How dare they! Breaking my offer of hospitality toward both you and your people? Oh, that was the last straw.”
Simon kept quiet. The king was obviously furious and he was afraid that the dwarf might start smashing furniture. He was very strong.
Fortunately at that moment there was a knock on the door. Shandon stopped his angry pacing and glared at the unoffensive portal.
“Come in!” he barked.
The door opened and the seneschal peered in, obviously wondering why the king was upset.
“Ah Ragar,” Shandon said.
He took a few deep breaths and forced a smile.
“Come in, please.”
The dwarf bowed and waved at someone outside in the hallway.
Several servants came in carrying trays. There were some low tables scattered around the library and these were pulled closer to the fireplace and used to set the trays on.
Once they had unloaded the refreshment, the workers bowed to the king and swept out of the room quickly, perhaps sensing some tension in the air.
“I've brought you ale, tea, fresh biscuits with butter, a bowl of fruit harvested just this morning and assorted cheeses,” Ragar said as he pointed at each tray. “Is there anything else you need, my lord?”
“No, that will be fine. Thank you, Ragar.”
The seneschal bowed, not quite as low as the servants had, and left the room, closing the door behind him with a firm click.
“You're the one in need,” Shandon said to Simon with a rather tired smile. “I just need some ale to improve my mood.”
Simon got up and walked over to the trays to load up a plate.
“As long as the ale improves your mood and doesn't make you cranky. It's had that affect on me from time to time.”
There was a small cask on one of the trays and the king filled up a tankard from it. He took several long swallows and refilled it.
“Has it? How odd. It always makes me rather jolly.”
He sat down w
ith a thump and nodded at the door.
“Too jolly sometimes, according to Ragar. But then he was always a little stiff and formal, even when we were children.”
Simon sat down with his plate on his knees and began eating.
“You've known him since childhood?” he asked around a mouthful of cheese.
“Not known, exactly. We met back then but I hadn't seen him in years, not until his name came up when I was searching for a new seneschal. The previous holder of that post passed away at a rather advanced age. Delightful old gentleman, he was. Anyway, Ragar put his name in for the position and I decided to take him on. He's been exemplary ever since.”
He took another deep swallow of ale.
“Still a stick in the mud though,” he added with a thoughtful belch.
Simon snickered, silently agreeing with the king's assessment.
When he'd finished eating, the wizard opted for tea over ale; he knew that the alcohol would probably put him to sleep and he still needed to speak with Shandon.
“Thanks,” he said as he sipped the hot tea. “I needed that.”
“My pleasure. Now let's get down to business.”
“Please.”
The king got up, refilled his mug and walked over to the fireplace. He rested his shoulder against the marble facade and stared intently at Simon.
“You know that your people are welcome to stay here as long as they like; traitors and malcontents be damned.”
The wizard nodded.
“Good. Then you should also know that most of them don't want to.”
Simon frowned at that statement.
“What do you mean they don't want to? Why not?”
Shandon shrugged and waved vaguely at the room around them.
“Living underground does not suit everyone. In fact, I would dare say that only my people are happy staying out of the open air of the surface for long periods. Your people, many of them anyway, are becoming more and more depressed the longer they stay with us.”
“But what about the threats above us? The necromancers and the undead, not to mention the dracoliches? Those are the reasons that they are down here in the first place.”
“Ah, but you see, that's their dilemma. If they stay with us, they will continue to sink into apathy and sadness. It's a long, slow spiral but I am informed that it is relentless and unavoidable for many of them. However, if they leave and head back to the surface, they face many dangers; some of which they simply are not ready to confront.”
Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two Page 99