A Gathering of Armies

by Christopher Williams

  Belgil paused, looking anything but sure, then he shook his head. “Vognar is many things, but he’s no fool. He wouldn’t have left a threat like that open.”

  Derek lapsed into silence for a moment, but then another idea occurred to him. “Could Zalustus somehow be behind this?”

  “How?” Blore asked.

  Derek shrugged. “I’m not sure, but the Wizard’s Portal was built by wizards, and Zalustus is a wizard. Perhaps there’s a way that he can,” he paused, searching for the right words, “force it open.”

  Belgil shrugged. “How in the name of the gods are we supposed to know? None of us are wizards, so guessing is just foolishness.”

  “What do we do?” Kara asked.

  Derek and Belgil looked to Kara. The fear and surprise were gone. There was some worry showing in her features, but there also was a determination.

  “Do?” Blore repeated quietly. “There’s only one thing we can do. We have to warn the king.”

  “How?” Derek asked. “We’ll be arrested before we can get close to the king.”

  Blore nodded. “Yes, but I’m a clan elder. The king will have to meet with me. He cannot refuse.”

  Chapter 14

  Blore led the Guardians and Belgil toward the king’s palace. He absolutely refused to cross in front of the doors to the Wizard’s Portal, and instead led them back the way they had come. During their approach to the portal, they had walked slowly, but at a steady pace – now, they ran. Blore didn’t lead them at an all-out sprint, instead they ran at a quick but maintainable pace.

  Surprisingly, the Guardians seemed to have more difficulty keeping up than the dwarves did. Somewhat embarrassed, Derek dismissed it as an effect of their imprisonment.

  They retraced their steps for a quarter hour, and then Blore turned them to their left. He led them down a much smaller tunnel. This tunnel was lower and more rough. The floor was mostly smooth, but it wasn’t the worn smooth feel of the ancient tunnels.

  As they ran down this new corridor, Derek scanned his surroundings. At first he wasn’t sure, but he quickly began to suspect that this was a completely new tunnel – a tunnel that he hadn’t traveled before.

  They followed this smaller tunnel for half an hour until it intersected a larger one. Without hesitation, Blore turned them to the left and charged off.

  Derek wasn’t sure how long they followed this new tunnel. He and Kara were having issues keeping up with the dwarves. Twice Kara stumbled and nearly fell. Both times Derek caught her arm and supported her long enough for her to regain her balance. Neither dwarf so much as looked back at her and Derek couldn’t really blame them. Their homeland was at stake and the two dwarves had to raise the alarm.

  Three times their group ran past other dwarves. Luckily, it was small groups marching along the tunnels and not dwarven guards. Still, the dwarves stared wide-eyed as two dwarves and two humans ran past.

  Kara and Derek fell farther and farther behind, and he was just about to suggest that they stop running when Blore and Belgil pulled up and waited for the Guardians.

  Derek and Kara jogged up, red-faced and gasping for breath. Strangely, the dwarves looked composed. Both Guardians remained standing, but they hunched over, resting their hands on their knees. “How close are we?” Derek finally managed to get out.

  “Not far,” Blore said.

  Something in Blore’s voice made Derek look up. He blinked in surprise at what lay before him. The tunnel where they were standing ended in a large cavern. The main dwarven city rested in the cavern. The ceiling could not be seen in the deep shadows way over their heads despite the glow coming from the mold along the walls. The mold did not exactly make it bright, but it seemed almost like dusk. In front of them the cavern stretched on for a mile or so until the far end of the cavern was also hidden in the shadows. The dwarven city was made of the most beautiful stone buildings, with each one more glorious than the last. The buildings were covered with hand-carved reliefs and statues. The buildings closer to them were shorter but farther away, as the cavern opened up, the buildings reached up into the darkness. There were only a few dwarves in sight, probably due to the strangeness of the hour.

  “Where is the king’s palace?” Derek asked. As he spoke, he continued to scan the magnificent city.

  Belgil pointed over to their left, along the edge of the cavern. It seemed the cavern floor was uneven and that particular area was pushed up higher. The effect was that the king’s palace appeared to look out over the city. Unlike in human kingdoms, there wasn’t a wall surrounding the palace. Instead, there were steps leading up to an open area that would have been the palace grounds in a human city.

  “What are we waiting for?” Kara asked.

  Neither dwarf answered right away.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Derek asked.

  “We’ve already been spotted. Several guards have gone to raise the alarm,” Blore said. “That’s what we’re waiting for.”

  It didn’t take long for the guards to respond. Ten or so guards descended the steps from the palace and approached warily.

  The guards were squat and muscular, and that wasn’t unusual for dwarves, but these guards seemed more muscular and intimidating than most. They carried halberds, which they held at the ready.

  The guard directly in front wasn’t muscular at all, just extremely fat. The armor he wore strained to hold in his stomach. The effect was a bit comical. He stepped forward and rested the butt of his halberd on the floor. “Elder Blore and Belgil of clan Darkstone, I hereby place you under arrest. Surrender your weapons.”

  Neither Blore nor Belgil moved.

  “Grom, do you really think we came to the city to hide?” Blore asked. “I demand an audience with the king.”

  Grom looked confused. Derek got the feeling he had that look often.

  “You’re a prisoner. You don’t get to make demands,” Grom said after a moment of thinking. It looked like hard work.

  Blore took a step forward, causing every dwarven guard to raise their halberds just a bit. “Even as a prisoner, a clan elder has the right to demand an immediate audience with the king. It’s dwarven law and my right. You have no power to impede my meeting with the king.” With that he dropped two knives onto the cavern floor. He glanced over his shoulder at the others. “Drop your weapons and follow me.” He wasted not another moment, but started off walking directly at the guard Grom.

  Derek and Kara shared a look, neither one happy about having to give up their weapons. Belgil shared no such compunction and dropped his axe to the floor and started off after his father.

  Sighing heavily, Derek dropped his sword to the floor and he and Kara followed Belgil.

  For a moment Grom looked bewildered. He even raised his halberd.

  “I am unarmed,” Blore said loudly. “And I have demanded an audience with the king. The law is clear – out of the way!” He shouted that last bit and it had the effect of causing Grom to jump backward.

  The fat guard regained some of his composure and then swelled in anger. He appeared on the verge of charging Blore when the king’s ancient advisor arrived.

  “Hold!” Emlin commanded, causing Grom to freeze in the very act of stepping toward Blore. Emlin looked disheveled, obviously having just awakened.

  Blore also paused, turning his attention to Emlin. “Counselor,” he said with a slight nod of his head.

  Emlin did not return the greeting. “So, under arrest are you Blore? Fitting, I suppose. You and son are such alike.”

  “Thank you,” Belgil said, although Emlin’s comment had not been meant as a complement.

  “Yes,” Blore said, ignoring Belgil’s reply. “And as a clan elder, I have demanded the right to see the king immediately.”

  Emlin looked like he had just taken a bite of something sour. “Impertinent,” he growled. “The king is asleep.”

  “Then wake him,” Blore retorted. “Wake him or break one of our most ancient laws.” He tilted his head to th
e side and regarded Emlin. “You do know the punishment for breaking that law, don’t you?”

  Emlin didn’t respond immediately, instead he glared at Blore for several long moments. Finally, he sighed deeply. “As you wish.” He looked to the guards. “Bring them to the king’s trophy room.” He started to turn away. “I’ll go wake the king,” he said.

  “Hurry,” Blore called out after him. “There are goblins in the tunnels.”

  Emlin stopped and turned back. His anger was gone, replaced now by a serious look. “What? What did you say?”

  “You heard me,” Blore answered calmly. “Wake the king and make it quick.”

  Emlin didn’t move, instead he just stared at the captives. “If this is some kind of ruse …” he began.

  Blore sucked in air, visibly swelling in anger. “If I’m lying, then I’ll answer to the king. Be quick and wake him or you’ll answer for it.”

  That last bit seemed to do the trick. Still looking confused and serious, Emlin turned and ran into the palace. The ancient dwarf moved far faster than any of those watching would have believed.

  King Vognar’s trophy room was a circular room with a very low ceiling. Both Kara and Derek had to hunch over to avoid hitting their heads. Nine stone pedestals rose from the floor to hold various battle trophies. One pedestal sat directly in front of the entrance and the other eight pedestals were split, four on the left and four on the right. In addition to the pedestals, the walls were covered with ancient axes, broken swords, and heavily dented shields. Two battle standards hung on the far wall; one flag was nearly ripped in two, and the second had nearly burnt up. The flags hung just behind a plain throne made of stone. Besides the four captives and their guards, the room was empty.

  The guards spread out, placing themselves between the captives and the only exit of the room.

  “Will the king come quickly?” Kara asked of Blore.

  The old dwarf nodded his head. “Most definitely. I have declared that there are goblins in the tunnels and that’s a serious claim. If I was proven to be lying, then I would most certainly be executed.” Kara gasped and Blore nodded. “The dwarves do not suffer such scandalous lies easily.”

  Derek moved away from the small group, coming to stand next to the first pedestal. It was located directly in front of the door. Dwarven runes covered the pedestal, and a wizened goblin head rested on top. The head was contained within a glass box. Even so, the head was revolting. The goblin that the head had belonged to had been dead for some time and the skin and tissue had mummified, pulling away from the skull’s openings. The eyes were long gone, leaving two large gaping sockets to stare sightlessly for all eternity.

  “Ehh,” Derek said, studying the head.

  Belgil moved closer, a small smile playing across his features. That head belonged to Ger’ock. He was the goblins’ leader in my great-grandfather’s time. Vognar’s grandfather defeated him in battle and took his head as a trophy. To this day, the goblins call on his name for help in battle.”

  “Why?” Derek asked. “It seems to me that they should call on a goblin that actually won the battle.”

  Belgil grew more serious. “Make no mistake, Ger’ock won a great number of battles against the dwarves in the White Mountains. He killed many a fine dwarf, but like all soldiers, he lived by the sword and then he died by it as well.”

  Derek was just beginning to move around the disgusting head and look at the other pedestals, but he stopped as a new voice called out, “That’s right, but I hope you’re not here just to look at my trophies.”

  An old but still muscular dwarf stood in the open doorway. He wore a long, rough-looking tunic that reached nearly to the floor and his wild hair stood out at all angles. It was not exactly a regal appearance.

  King Vognar’s eyes swept over the two Guardians and their two dwarven escorts. Even fifteen paces away, his anger was unmistakable, it was rolling off him like a wave.

  Just behind the king and to his left, was Emlin. The old dwarf’s serious look had turned to fright. Derek respected him more for that. He’d have thought the old dwarf would be relishing the confusion and panic that Blore’s announcement had surely brought.

  “This is the reason for waking me?” Vognar demanded over his shoulder in Emlin’s direction. “You’ve captured the fugitives?”

  “Well, yes, my king,” Emlin began. The old dwarf seemed unsure of what to say. It appeared that he had rushed the king to the trophy room without mentioning the goblins. It was almost as if he didn’t want to be tarnished by the accusation.

  “My king,” Grom began, “I’ve arrested the escaped prisoners.” The fat dwarf moved sideways and around so that the king could see him. The move only showed the dwarf’s stupidity, as anyone with an ounce of sense would have known to keep silent.

  The king held up his right hand, his index finger pointing up.

  “Out of the way, Grom!” Emlin barked, and the fat dwarf scurried to obey, returning to his post by the door and ignoring the glares of the other dwarven guards.

  “You’ve disobeyed me and broken your son out of his cell?” The words, while in the form of a question were anything but.

  “Yes, my king,” Blore answered quickly. He showed no fear, but stood straight, maintaining eye contact with the king.

  The king sighed deeply. “Well, I won’t have to waste time getting a confession out of you, I see.”

  Blore shook his head. “No, my king, but …”

  “Silence!” Vognar spat. “Do you think you can break a royal decree and nothing will come of it?”

  “No, my king …” Blore tried again, but once again Vognar overrode him.

  “You, your son, and your entire clan will have to pay the price for this,” Vognar said, his voice rising to a shout. His face had gone red, and spit flew from the corners of his mouth. “Do you think that you know more than me? Do you think I give commands on a whim?”

  Blore opened his mouth to respond, but this time it was Kara who spoke over him. “If you’d be quiet long enough to let him answer, then you’d know there is a reason, you damn fool.”

  Several of the dwarfs appeared to be on the verge of swallowing their tongues, and Vognar even looked shocked.

  He took a deep breath and shook his head; the effect was that his wild-looking hair jumped and fell in unusual ways. “A reason?” he repeated. “Does this reason have anything to do with helping Telur fight their battles?”

  “That’s why we came here, but it has nothing to do why we came to your palace, knowing we’d be arrested,” Kara shouted. Her tone was every bit as angry as the king’s, although spittle didn’t fly as she hollered.

  “What’s this?” Vognar asked, his anger blunted by his confusion. “You came to the palace? I thought you were arrested and brought here.” His body started to turn, undoubtedly searching for Grom, but he stopped as Kara started speaking again.

  “Yes, that’s why we came here, to ask for your help, but we already knew it was pointless. That’s why we were trying to flee this damned city, and that’s when we discovered that you have goblins loose in your tunnels.”

  Vognar’s eyebrows pulled down in confusion, deep furrows completely covering his forehead. “What did you say?” he demanded. The anger was gone from his voice, but there was still a cold, threatening tone. “Goblins?”

  Blore took a deep breath and stepped closer. “Yes, Vognar, there are goblins in the tunnels.”

  Derek started at Blore using the king’s first name; it implied a very close relationship and he found that surprising.

  Vognar stared at Blore hard for several moments and then he said, “If you’re lying, I’ll have no choice but to execute you.”

  “I understand and I would never lie about such a thing,” Blore said, his back straightening. It seemed to imply that he didn’t much like the suggestion that he would lie. Or perhaps it wasn’t so much that the king had implied he would lie, but rather that he would lie about goblins.

  “We al
l saw the goblin,” Derek said. The room was deathly quiet and his words seemed to reverberate around the small space.

  “Where did you see them?” Vognar asked, and for just a moment his eyes came to rest on Derek. In that moment, Derek felt like the king was looking into his very soul, searching for answers.

  “At the gates to the Wizard’s Portal,” Belgil answered quietly. “King Vognar, you did remove the key after Flare, Holgar, and myself traveled through, didn’t you?”

  Vognar took a deep breath, glaring at Belgil. “Of course I did. What do you take me for, a fool?”

  Kara snorted, leaving little doubt that she, at least, thought the king was a complete and utter fool. No one else said a word.

  Vognar shot a nasty look in Kara’s direction, but let the insult pass. “It is impossible for the goblins to use the Wizard’s Portal.” He glared once more at Belgil. “Remind me later to have a talk with you about secrets.”

  Belgil swallowed hard but said nothing.

  Derek thought he knew what that was about. Vognar had told Holgar and Belgil about the portal, but it was supposed to be a secret. Given the number of people in the room, it was one secret that was now bound to spread.

  “Forgive me, my king,” Belgil said, “but where is the key?”

  Vognar’s eyes narrowed, it seemed he didn’t like being questioned. After a moment, the king sighed. “It’s in the throne room, but I assure you that there aren’t any goblins in Az’ha’rill’hadell. You must be mistaken about what you saw.”

  Derek noticed he was careful not to accuse the dwarves of lying.

  “Can we see it?” Blore asked. “Can we see the key?”

  “We were not mistaken,” Derek said quietly. “There are goblins in the tunnels. If they are not using the portal, then there has to be another secret way into Az’ha’rill’hadell.”

  Vognar considered briefly and then threw his hands up in frustration. “Follow me and I’ll show you the key.”

  The king turned and stalked from the room, followed closely by Emlin. The old dwarf gave a nervous glance over his shoulder at the captives.