In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords)

by Tatum, David A

  Euleilla smiled, although it was fairly weak. Her strength appeared to be fading fast, although she looked healthy enough thanks to Dr. Wodtke’s treatment. Maelgyn slipped under the covers beside her. Much to both of their surprise, he lifted up her hair and kissed her lightly on her forehead, before lowering her hair back over her eyes like she preferred. “Good night.”

  As he felt Euleilla fall asleep in his arms, he vaguely wondered why he kissed her at all. It just added to the awkwardness of everything, although it had felt right. Euleilla hadn’t seemed to mind, thankfully, and he...

  Oh. That was why. Well, he had wondered when he would know that he loved her.

  Chapter 11

  Maelgyn awoke the next morning as something rather pleasantly soft stirred in his arms. It took him a moment to realize that something was Euleilla. It took him another moment to remember just why Euleilla was there. In between those moments, he jumped in such surprise he accidentally woke her.

  “What?” she said sleepily. Then, she just nodded. “Oh, right. Maelgyn, I know you’re impatient to get moving and all, but I’m still not feeling all that great. I think I need to sleep a touch longer, okay?”

  “Sorry,” he answered her. “I... forgot you were here.”

  “S’ok,” she muttered, burrowing herself into his shoulder. “Just don’t do it again.”

  “Um,” he hesitated. “You don’t have to get up, yet, but I do. Could you, uh, let me go?”

  “No,” she laughed sleepily. “You have to stay right here and be my pillow.”

  “Euleilla,” he replied desperately. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. If I don’t, well, let’s just say this bed won’t be quite so pleasant to sleep in.”

  “Oh.” she gasped, embarrassed, as she realized what he was saying. She quickly let go, bundling the blankets around herself as she sat up part-way. “Sorry.”

  “Shh...” he answered absently, and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Go back to sleep. The doctor will be here, soon, to check you over. I want you as well rested as possible before then.”

  “‘kay,” she answered, burrowing herself back into the real feather pillows that only the best of Dwarven hospitality could provide.

  Maelgyn left the room. He was still dressed in his clothes from the previous day except for his armor. He realized, as he walked, that he’d left their supplies and clothes on the pack horse. He was fairly bleary, still, and needed his morning toilette before he’d be awake enough to deal with the stables.

  “Ah, sir!” El’Ba exclaimed, seeing him walking around lost. “I see you’re awake. Excuse me, but I never got your name.”

  “Maelgyn,” he answered, forgetting that he had intended to give a fake name.

  “Maelgyn, then. You look a little lost,” the Dwarf said.

  “I am,” he admitted, laughing slightly. “Where’s the privy?”

  El’Ba gestured swiftly, and answered, “Down at the end of the hall. There’s also a bath available for use.”

  “Ah,” Maelgyn answered. “Well, I’d need to collect a change of clothes, first, but maybe later. I left my bags on my horse, so—”

  “I’ll handle that for you if you want to have one now,” El’Ba offered. “It would be no trouble, since your horse is in our stables.”

  “If you’re willing,” Maelgyn said, nodding in both gratitude and relief. “Thank you. You’ve been quite helpful – so helpful I’m starting to worry about the fees you plan to charge for doing all of this.”

  “I suppose I forgot to mention the cost of doing all of these extra services in all the excitement last night,” El’Ba said, trying to hide an all-too-obvious smile by stroking his beard. “Well, I wouldn’t be much of a Dwarf if I didn’t make something off of you, now would I? Then again, I am making a commission from Dr. Wodtke for recommending her to you. I suppose that’ll be enough. You’ve got enough to deal with, right now without having to worry about extra fees.”

  Maelgyn grinned. “Well, while I must agree with you, there, I could afford extra...”

  “No, lad. Anyone who’s had to deal with someone they love being caught in that plague, whether she recovers from it or not, shouldn’t also have to respond to the whims of a Dwarf’s greed,” El’Ba answered. “Go on, lad – relax. I’ll find you a change of clothes while you bathe.”

  Maelgyn nodded, heading for the privy. He was surprised to discover the inn had running water – albeit only cold running water. Thankfully, while the posted rules require that he clean himself under the cold sprays, the bath itself was heated by a gas flame piped in underneath, and the fire was controlled so that it wasn’t large enough to get the water boiling – just enough to heat it. It was an interesting variation to the design Maelgyn was familiar with, but it reminded him a little too much of making a stew over a campfire for him to feel comfortable with it.

  Instructions were over the tub in Dwarvish, Nekoji, and three human languages (including his own). They explained that users could drain and fill their own tubs, if they desired, but to please leave hot water for the next bather. That, too, was a different style of public bath than he was used to – in Svieda, either you only filled the tub once a day (a common practice for those inns without running water that still liked to provide a bath to customers) or you filled and emptied the tub every time you used it. In this case, it appeared as if that was only an option. The sign called this a “Fu’Ro System of Bathing.” Maelgyn’s knowledge of Dwarvish was very limited, but he believed the suffix ‘Ro,’ in this case, meant ‘family,’ and the prefix ‘Fu’ meant ‘Water.’ He gathered from that simple translation that the system was designed for each family to use a single tub of water. An interesting idea for an inn, which likely had to pay an exorbitant amount of money just to provide the service of running water.

  Maelgyn was so caught up in musing on the bathing system that he failed to notice El’Ba’s return. The Dwarf walked over to the tub, carrying several things with him: A change of clothes for Maelgyn, his bag of hair brushes and other assorted toiletries, and...

  “Well, Sword Prince Maelgyn,” El’Ba said, laying down the royal Sword which Maelgyn typically kept at his side at all times... or had, until he’d hidden it in his saddlebags in favor of the longsword Euleilla had made for him. He’d forgotten he left it there when he allowed the Dwarf to go through his belongings. “It looks as if maybe you could afford to give me a trifle more than the usual fees, after all.”

  Maelgyn took a sip of his Mo’kah tea and sighed. El’Ba had merely grinned, left Maelgyn’s gear, and departed after the revelation of his discovery. He hadn’t seen the Dwarf since, and hoped that this didn’t mean the man was telling his name to whatever bad elements El’Athras had wanted him shielded from. Maelgyn, not knowing what else to do, just finished his bath and changed into the fresh clothes, then went to the inn’s common room where Tur’Ba served him the tea and some lightly toasted pastries.

  Dr. Wodtke showed up just as he was finishing his tea, looking fresh and pleased with her lot in the world. “Good morning. So, how is your wife this morning?” she asked.

  “She was still asleep when I left our room – that was about an hour or so ago – but she seemed well. Her magic doesn’t appear to have recovered, yet.”

  “That’s to be expected,” the doctor answered. “She’ll be weak magically for a couple days, but she can still use it without fear while she recovers. Physically, she should be perfectly fine. I’ll just go and check on her, okay?”

  “Fine,” Maelgyn agreed, nodding. He smiled slightly at the good news, but that went away after she left. He was still increasingly frustrated with himself over El’Ba’s discovery of his identity. He’d been trying to keep it secret throughout his journey, but he had allowed it to be discovered at least four times. He still had no idea what this Dwarf felt for Sviedan royalty – after all, he never got an explanation for the apparent war preparations that he and Euleilla had discovered.

  El’Ba showed up only moments after
the doctor had left, a grin still on his face. Maelgyn had no clue what that grin meant, but at least there wasn’t guilt on the Dwarf’s face. Guilt would have worried Maelgyn even more.

  “Hello, Maelgyn,” El’Ba said, sitting at the table and helping himself to one of the young man’s sweetbreads. “Well, now that I know you can actually afford it, I suppose it’s time to discuss the fee for the extra services I’ve been providing.”

  Oh, so it’s a bribe, is it? Maelgyn thought as he nodded cautiously. I should be able to handle that.

  “I’ve given it a great deal of thought,” the Dwarven innkeeper said, the grin never leaving his face. “Unless I miss my guess, it would be within your power to provide steady employment for young Tur’Ba, over there.”

  Maelgyn’s eyes widened, looking over towards the speedy Dwarf bustling about in the bar area. “Well... yes. I might be able to use him for something in my household. I have no idea what for, at the moment, however. I’ve yet to see how my regent has set up the court.”

  El’Ba nodded. “That’s alright. I just... my son wants to see the world. Given what I suspect you’re heading off to do, I suppose you’d be able to help him do that, right?”

  “Yes,” Maelgyn answered cautiously. “El’Ba, I acknowledge my debt, but it’s not in your son’s best interest to send him off with me right now. Svieda is at war. Once I organize my armies in Sopan and find a way to bring them across to Svieda proper, I’ll probably wind up on the front lines in some capacity. If I give him the kind of job you seem to want him to have... I can’t guarantee his safety.”

  El’Ba’s grin slipped momentarily, but then was back up on his face – albeit with a bit more serious of a fix to it. “I know,” he answered. “I know that when I send him off with you, I’ll probably never see him again. Either he’ll see the outside world, experience it, and never return... or he’ll die, and still never return. But he’s wanted to leave for ages, and he wants to be a soldier. He doesn’t want to join the Mar’Tok army – we haven’t fought a war in hundreds of years – but he’s grown up on those myths of our unconquerable Dwarven Axemen of ancient times, and he wants to be a part of it. I doubt he’ll ever find what he’s looking for, but as long as he’s still looking I feel he could be happy.”

  “He clearly has no idea about the realities of war,” Maelgyn noted darkly. Fresh memories of the battle at Elm Knoll flashed through his mind. “Best to leave him here, with his happy fantasies of becoming a hero.”

  “I know,” El’Ba sighed, finally letting his grin drop entirely. “But he’s thirty-one years old, now. At thirty-two, he’ll be able to set out on his own. I already know that. I’d rather he go somewhere that he might be able to get a more... survivable job than that of a common foot soldier. He might not live any longer in your company than he would as a common foot soldier, but in the company of a Sword Prince, maybe...”

  “Maybe he’ll see what it’s really like to be in a war from a relatively safe position,” Maelgyn answered, continuing the thought.

  “Exactly,” El’Ba replied. “And even if he does die, it’s better he die fighting for a just cause like defeating Sho’Curlas than wasting his life in one of the pointless border disputes in the Orful River kingdoms or somewhere like that.”

  Maelgyn raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware of any Dwarven sentiment against Sho’Curlas, before, and was surprised to hear it expressed now. The war which had taken the city of Sho’Curlas from Dwarven hands ended over a thousand years before, and even for a people with the extended lifespan of the Dwarven race that was a long time for such resentment to continue.

  He was about to ask its source when Dr. Wodtke returned, Euleilla in tow. Maelgyn noticed, to his relief, that the storm of magic powder was back around his wife, as usual, and while he could sense her powers were weakened they were still greater than the average mage could boast.

  “Hello again, Maelgyn,” the doctor bowed. Maelgyn could have sworn he never told her his name, but somehow she knew it anyway. He frowned, wondering just how the doctor knew. “Your wife, here, will be somewhat tired for a few days but is otherwise fine. I understand you have an appointment with a certain someone around here, and you mentioned yesterday you need a guide. Euleilla should be well enough to accompany us, if you want to go now.”

  Maelgyn turned back towards El’Ba, desperately wanting to continue his conversation and find out just what it was the Dwarves had against Sho’Curlas, but sighed. He did need to see El’Athras, as well, and now was as good a time as any. He could always ask the innkeeper what he meant, later.

  “I’m afraid she’s right, El’Ba,” Maelgyn sighed. “I probably should get this taken care of right away. I’ll be back tonight, however, and we can discuss this further.”

  The innkeeper waved, smiling. “Sure. Business is business, after all.”

  Maelgyn nodded, and stood up. “Well, then, shall we go?”

  “Yes,” Euleilla said, stepping up to take Maelgyn’s arm. “Let’s.”

  Maelgyn was astounded at the appearance of the mansion as they approached it. It appeared to be carved into the stone face of the mountain, and it extended for quite a ways. In a human settlement, it would be the equivalent of a large town hall or even a minor noble’s estate in size... and that was just on the outside. For a city where level land was so heavily prized, it was positively palatial.

  The doctor, he had been surprised to learn, was a confidant of El’Athras’. She described the interior in some detail as they approached, but Maelgyn suspected that she was holding things back. Anything this impressive had to be beyond description inside.

  “Hello, Dr. Wodtke,” the guard greeted them as they approached. “Nice to see you again. How are you doing, today?”

  “Just fine. I was merely escorting these people, who were invited to see El’Athras, to his estate. They met him during one of his trading missions, and they were invited to tea.”

  The guard immediately became suspicious. “Were they, now? And I suppose you two have proof you’ve been asked to come?”

  Maelgyn’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he remembered the ring he’d been given. Fumbling through his pouch, he finally found the emblem he had been given and handed it to the guard.

  The Dwarf inspected the ring carefully before grudgingly nodding. “Good enough.” He tossed it back to Maelgyn, who just barely caught it. “Go on in. El’Athras is in the Red Room, today, doctor. I’m sure you can escort them there.”

  “Gladly,” Dr. Wodtke answered, bowing slightly. Turning to Maelgyn and Euleilla, she gestured, “Come on. We’re lucky – he’s in the nearby office. If he’d been in the Green Room, we’d have quite the trek on our hands.”

  The threesome made their way into the Merchant Prince’s household. As they passed through the corridors, Maelgyn was astounded to see paintings he recognized as being from the hands of the best Human, Dwarven, and Nekoji artists the world had to offer. He even saw one ancient-looking painting done by a famous member of the extinct race known as Satyrs. The Royal Castle of Svieda also had such treasures, but not in nearly as great a number, and most were hidden away in vaults hidden even to his eyes. The Royal Art Gallery in Svieda only opened its doors to the public once a year to show the entire collection, and when it was closed not even a Sword could pass their doors without the permission of the Royal Archivist. Maelgyn had only been to the gallery once, and that time hadn’t left him nearly as impressed as he was now. He only regretted that Euleilla couldn’t see the artwork she was walking past.

  They stopped in front of a door protected by two guards armed with naginata. Maelgyn recognized the naginata as two of those Euleilla had made in the battle with the Largo separatists, although the men carrying them were unfamiliar. It was a curious thing for someone to arm their soldiers with, since weapons made by magic – especially when made in the spur of the moment as Euleilla had done – were inherently inferior to a blacksmith-forged product, but nevertheless Maelgyn knew they were q
uite deadly.

  “We’re here to see El’Athras,” Wodtke explained without being asked.

  “Please state your names, so that I may properly announce you,” one of them replied.

  “Dr. Wodtke. Maelgyn. Euleilla,” she answered, pausing between each name to make some gesture Maelgyn failed to recognize.

  The guard nodded at the gesture, seemingly ignoring the names, and entered the room. It was quickly apparent that Wodtke had performed some sort of recognition signal, though why she would need one escaped Maelgyn at the moment. The guard returned a moment later and formally lowered his weapon, his companion following suit. “Please, enter.”

  The trio walked through the door to see El’Athras sitting at a desk, sorting through a large stack of papers almost as tall as the Dwarf, himself. He looked up and smiled.

  “Good. You’re here. I was expecting you to arrive no earlier than tomorrow, but now’s as good a time as any,” the Merchant Prince said, dropping his papers and standing up. He scribbled a short note, handed it to the guard who had escorted them in, and then dismissed him. “Come on,” he said to the trio, “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

  With that, he took a painting off one of the walls in the office, revealing a secret doorway he promptly walked through. Maelgyn blinked.

  “Um... rather abrupt, isn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Wodtke agreed, shrugging. “He’s always been that way.”

  Maelgyn glanced at her as she led them through the secret doorway, herself. “You seem to know him pretty well.”

  “I should,” she replied, and left it at that, making Maelgyn wonder what she meant. Why did all the women he met give him such incomplete answers?

  “Do you have any idea why he wants to meet with us?”