A Gathering of Armies

by Christopher Williams

  The growling of his stomach meant that another visit from the servants would soon be here. Their meals were brought by dwarves wearing white robes. Belgil had told them that these were the servant class of the dwarves. They were always escorted by the much larger, heavily-armed guards. To this point, none of the servants had yet spoken a word. The guards spoke, but they normally only taunted Belgil – there seemed to be an intense dislike between Belgil and those that guarded them.

  Thinking of Belgil, Derek rolled his head to the side so that he could see where the dwarf lay on his bed. The first several days of their imprisonment, Belgil had barely spoken to them. Kara and Derek, for their part, had also refused to speak to the dwarf. Belgil has spent those early days lying in bed, while the two Guardians searched for a way to escape. Their search had been pointless, as the cell appeared escape proof. Belgil’s “I told you,” did little to alleviate their anger.

  Gradually their anger had receded, as it’s hard to remain angry with your fellow captive for long.

  Both Derek and Kara saw their spirits sink with the realization that they could not escape. Neither had yet given up, as they still hoped an opportunity would present itself.

  Twice now, the guards had escorted them to the baths. This was a large room with multiple, sunken pools of water. Derek and Belgil had been taken to one such room, while Kara had been given her own room for privacy. The whole time that they had been escorted to the baths, they had been looking for an escape opportunity. Both Kara and Derek and been disappointed that no such opportunity had appeared.

  Belgil had also seemed anxious, although he had later admitted that he was afraid the two Guardians would get hurt trying to escape. He knew there was little chance of success, as he himself had once escorted prisoners.

  The bolts being drawn on the heavy wooden door made Derek sit up. Kara also sat up on her bed, with Belgil remained lying with his hands behind his head.

  As before, three white-robed dwarves entered the room. They were followed closely by six heavily-muscled guards, who stopped just inside the doorway and held their clubs ready. The guards remained alert, ready to intervene if necessary.

  The guards’ vigilance, while respectable, was unnecessary. Neither Belgil nor the two Guardians had any desire to attack the servants. Their only desire was to escape and that meant going through the guards. None of the three prisoners much liked their chances.

  Each of the three servants placed a tray on the end of one of the three beds. Then, still keeping their eyes downward, the servants backed away slowly. It was as if they too expected to be attacked. Once they had gotten several feet away from the beds, they turned and hurried from the room, pausing only long enough to pick up the empty trays from the prisoner’s previous meal.

  The guards then retreated back out the doorway, but they did not turn their backs to the prisoners. Within moments the room was empty again, except for the three prisoners, and the heavy doorway had been secured again.

  Kara and Derek slumped back onto their beds. The isolation of the cell room was beginning to drive them crazy, the only excitement of their day was when their food was delivered. They still held out hope of escaping during such a time, but with each day their hopes diminished just a little bit.

  “I hate gruel,” Kara said, spooning up a bit of the soupy mess.

  “Belgil,” Derek said, “would you like ours?”

  The dwarf didn’t respond, causing Kara and Derek both to turn toward him. He sat on his bed smiling at his tray.

  “Belgil? Is everything okay?” Kara asked.

  Belgil slowly turned his head to regard them, his smile threatening to split his face in two. After a moment, his smile slipped just a bit. “You didn’t see it, did you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Derek asked. “See what?”

  “You don’t use your eyes,” Belgil said. “Did you notice anything unusual?”

  Derek glanced to Kara, and was relieved to see his confusion mirrored in her face. He turned back the Belgil and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Those were not the same servants that have been bringing us our meals in the past.”

  Derek shrugged. “So? Does that mean something to you?”

  Belgil nodded. “Oh yes. It’s been the same servants the entire time we’ve been here, but now it’s different servants. In fact, those ‘servants’ were not servants at all. I recognize them. They’re part of my clan.”

  “So?” Derek asked. “With they help us escape?”

  Belgil’s smile returned in full force. “Why don’t we read their message and see?”

  “Message? What message?” Kara asked. She sounded as confused as Derek felt.

  “The message they snuck in on my tray,” Belgil said. Then to the two Guardians astonishment, he moved the bowl of gruel off his tray and picked up a folded piece of paper that had been concealed underneath the bowl.

  Kara and Derek both leaped from their beds and raced around to stare over Belgil’s shoulder at the piece of paper. They needn’t have bothered, as the writing was in dwarvish runes and neither of them could read it.

  “What does it say?” Derek asked.

  Belgil didn’t answer right away, as his eyes scanned the page. Finally, he looked up; all traces of his smile were gone. “It’s not good,” he said.

  Kara set down the edge of Belgil’s bed. “What is it?” she asked in a defeated tone of voice.

  “It would seem that Anton is negotiating for the dwarves to stay out of the battle,” Belgil replied. “Apparently Zalustus is promising to return Ocklamoor to the dwarves after the battle, that is, if they do not assist Telur.”

  “Surely the king won’t believe him, will he?” Kara exclaimed.

  “King Vognar is no fool, but you must understand that the dwarves have longed for the return of Ocklamoor,” Belgil said slowly. “The mere promise of its return may be enough to blind them to reality.” He paused and then added, “besides, no one will want to aid humans.”

  “What can we do?” Derek asked. “We have to warn the king.”

  Belgil scoffed. “Warn the king? How? Have you forgotten that we’re prisoners?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten,” Derek said. He was starting to get excited, perhaps these servants could get them out of this damn cell. “Can these friends of yours get us out of here?”

  Belgil sighed. “We’ve been through this. Even if you got out of the cell how would you get out of the gates?”

  “We have to try, Belgil,” Kara said quietly. “We cannot sit here while Telur is conquered. If this king of yours is foolish enough to believe Zalustus, then we will have to fight without him, but we must help Telur however we can.”

  Belgil sat there for a moment, looking from Kara to Derek. “And after you get out of the cell, what then?”

  Kara looked to Derek. Her meaning was plain – what are we to do once we’re out of here?

  “One thing at a time,” Derek said smiling. He was trying to project a sense of optimism, and not show his anxiety. He was quite sure that he had fooled no one.

  The time seemed to pass slowly as they waited for the servants to return with their next meal. A short and hastily prepared message was scrawled across the back of the letter the servants had brought to Belgil. The dwarf had written their request with soot from around the edges of the torch holders. The note had then been folded back up and placed underneath his bowl.

  They were a bit anxious about putting the letter on Belgil’s tray. No arrangements had been made for him to reply to the secret message. It was entirely possible that this morning’s servants would not be the same ones in the evening. It was possible that Belgil could be endangering those very servants by trying to communicate with them. It was a chance the two Guardians felt was necessary and to which Belgil had reluctantly agreed.

  When the sound of the door being unlocked occurred again, Derek was busy performing physical exercises, both to re
main in shape and to help pass the time.

  He climbed up off the floor as the door opened. As before, three white-robed servants entered the room carrying their trays. They crossed the room leaving their trays on the beds and removing the old trays.

  Derek tried not to stare at them, as in the past he had been more concerned with the guards. He didn’t want to do anything unusual to arouse suspicions. He needn’t have bothered though, the guards were attentive to them, but only in so much as to where they were standing. Derek was quite sure he could have danced a little jig and they wouldn’t have cared as long as he did so without coming too close to them.

  Within moments the servants left the room, followed closely by the guards. The door was closed and the bolts locked.

  Kara and Derek turned to Belgil, and Kara was already opening her mouth to speak, when Belgil waved them to silence. He wore a worried expression that caused both Guardians to immediately obey.

  Anxiety sprung up within Derek. It felt like his stomach was trying to turn inside-out. He waited patiently for Belgil to say something, but the dwarf had a faraway look, and seemed to be listening for something. As quietly as he could, Derek moved over and picked up the bread and meat from his tray. He hadn’t eaten much of the gruel from this morning’s breakfast and his stomach was letting him know about it. The dwarves might not know how to make gruel, but they sure knew how to roast meat.

  After several moments, Belgil climbed to his feet and quietly moved across the room to stand next to the door. He rested his ear against the wood and listened for several moments. Finally, he turned and moved close to Kara and Derek.

  “What is it?” Kara asked.

  “I think one of the guards was listening at the door,” Belgil replied.

  “Is he still?” Derek asked, around a mouthful of beef.

  Belgil shook his head. “I think not. I think I heard his footsteps just now.”

  “Well? Were those the same servants?” Kara asked, being sure to keep her voice low.

  Belgil smiled then. “Oh yes. Our message was received.”

  “And?” Derek asked. “Will they help us?”

  Belgil shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll help us if they can, but breaking someone out of a cell is not easy. Besides, the king apparently ordered us here, and he won’t like his subjects disobeying him.”

  Judging by their meals, two more days passed without incident. The servants that had delivered their food, along with the secret message, did not return, causing the prisoners to fear that their message had been intercepted. If that was the case, neither the new servants nor the guards gave any such indication.

  The waiting was just plain miserable. At first, the secret message had given them new hope and they spent the time in eager expectation, but as the time wore on their hopes diminished as did their spirits.

  The sound of their prison door being unlocked jolted Derek awake. He sat up, confused. The evening meal had only been brought to them an hour or two earlier. It was not time for another meal, nor were they ever taken to the baths in the evenings.

  The door swung open revealing a dark gloomy hallway beyond. A single small dwarf stood in the doorway. He would’ve only come up to Belgil’s chest and probably weighed half as much as the full-grown dwarf. He wore a cloak with a hood that covered his face.

  Derek cautiously climbed to his feet, trying not to hope that this was their escape. Belgil and Kara followed his lead, with the dwarf stepping out in front.

  “What is this?” Belgil demanded. “Who are you?”

  “My name is my own and not for you to know,” the small dwarf replied quietly. “I was told to free you, that is all I know.”

  “And the guards?” Belgil asked.

  “They are unconscious,” the small dwarf replied. “I do not know when their replacements will arrive, so the less questions you ask, the better your chances of escape will be.”

  “Wait a minute!” Kara demanded. “How are we to get out? How are we to get past the guards?”

  The dwarf merely shrugged. “I have done what I was paid to do. My assistance ends here. Be grateful that I even took time to answer your questions.” With that, the small dwarf turned and disappeared down the dark hallway.

  “Hold a moment,” Belgil said to the two Guardians. “Let me check.”

  Belgil moved over to the doorway and glanced out. He turned his head to the left and then to the right. Without saying a word, he turned and quickly motioned to the Guardians to join him. As they did, he leaned close and said, “The guards are unconscious, but we have to hurry. Follow me and don’t get lost.”

  “Wait!” Derek demanded. “Where are you taking us?”

  “Away from here,” Belgil snapped, apparently irritated at being questioned. “Unless you want to stay here and argue until the next squad of guards arrive.”

  Derek opened his mouth to argue right back, but closed it again when Kara placed her hand on his arm.

  “Not now, Derek,” Kara said. “Belgil’s right. We’ve got to get away from here.”

  Swallowing his anger, Derek nodded, although he looked less than pleased.

  Belgil hadn’t waited for Derek’s nod, but instead had slipped out into the dark hallway. Kara followed and Derek brought up the rear. The dwarf wasted no time but turned to the left and set a fast pace away from the prison cells. He paused only long enough to step into the guard room and retrieve their weapons. Then he turned and started off. So fast was his pace that Kara and Derek had to run to keep up.

  Belgil seem to know where he was going, as he turned first to the left, left again, then right, then left again. Before long both Kara and Derek were completely turned around, both extremely grateful that they did not have to find their way back.

  Belgil led them through hallway after hallway. Some of the ceilings were so low that Derek had to run hunched over, but at least they saw no other dwarves. Gradually, the hallways became more rough-looking and the floors became more uneven.

  Finally, Belgil stopped next to a doorway. “These tunnels and rooms have been deserted since my grandfather’s time,” he said. “We should be safe here, at least for the time being.”

  “Safe?” Derek asked. His breathing was ragged and his chest felt like it would explode. He stood hunched over, his hands resting on his knees. “I thought we were going to try and escape,” he managed to say between deep breaths. Apparently, the short time in the prison cell had affected his physical conditioning more than he knew. It was strangely relieving to see Kara also gasping for breath.

  “And just how do you expect to do that, boy?” Belgil asked, his anger apparent in his tone. “I already told you, we can’t get past the guards.”

  “So what do we do?” Kara asked. “We can’t just stay here.”

  Belgil took a deep breath, composing himself and reining in his temper. “We won’t stay here any longer than necessary, but we must rest and eat. We have a long way to go.”

  “Eat?” Derek said. “Eat what?”

  “Perhaps I can help with that,” a voice said from the darkness of the room beyond the doorway.

  Derek’s hand dropped to his sword, but it was just an effect of the surprise.

  A dwarf stepped into the light. He was old but still muscular. He walked with the ease of a much younger dwarf. His snow-white beard hung down past his belt. He carried a coarse, wool bag in his right hand.

  “Father!” Belgil exclaimed.

  The old dwarf tossed the bag to Derek and then embraced Belgil in a bear hug.

  It was strangely out of place. The dwarves are a brutish sort of people and the display of emotion between father and son seemed completely foreign to what the Guardians would have expected.

  After a moment the dwarves separated and Belgil motioned to the old dwarf with a smile. “This is my father, Blore.”

  Derek nodded his head in way of greeting, but Kara stepped forward and took the old dwarf’s hand in hers. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” she said. “You
r son has been of immense help to us.”

  Blore smiled at Kara and glanced to Belgil. “Yes, so I’ve heard.”

  “Do we have you to thank for getting us out of the cell?” Derek asked.

  Blore’s smile disappeared. “Yes, that was my doing. Although, it could mean the gallows for me if the king ever finds out.”

  “Who was the dwarf that freed us?” Kara asked. “He wouldn’t give us his name.”

  “No, I don’t imagine he would,” Blore replied. He seemed to hesitate and then added, “There are some dwarves who live among us, but who refuse to live by the same laws as we do.”

  “He was one of the Forbidden?” Belgil burst out. He looked both surprised and disgusted.

  Blore only nodded, prompting Derek to ask, “Who are the Forbidden?”

  “We do not usually speak of them,” Blore said slowly, “but there are some dwarves who live among us but who refuse to follow our laws. They will do anything if there is enough gold in it for them.”

  “How did you find one of them?” Belgil asked.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Blore replied, looking irritated.

  Whether Blore didn’t want to speak of it in front of humans, or simply didn’t want to speak about it at all, Derek was unsure. He felt it was best not to press the issue. Apparently, Belgil felt the same.

  “Well, then, how are the negotiations going?” Belgil asked. “Will Vognar agree to Zalustus’s terms?”

  Blore sighed. “Come,” he said, heading back into the dark room. “Let’s talk in comfort.”

  The room beyond was pitch black with none of the light-producing mold. Derek and Kara stopped in the doorway, wondering how they were to see the way. They needn’t have bothered, though, as within moments there came the sound of flint being struck. Shortly thereafter, three torches burst to light, illuminating the room.

  The room was roughly formed. The floor was uneven as were the walls. It was obvious that this room was dwarf-made and not natural – the walls still bore the signs where the dwarves had hewn the room out of the rock. The far wall was only a good ten yards away from the door and the ceiling was low. Both Derek and Kara had to lean over to avoid hitting their heads.