A Gathering of Armies

by Christopher Williams

  The four captives followed Emlin quickly from the room. Grom and the other dwarven guards brought up the rear.

  Derek noticed Grom was pink-faced and shooting hateful looks at Kara. She had exposed his boasting for lies and in front of the king. Derek hoped that she was never left alone where the fat dwarf could get at her.

  The king led them through stone hallways where heavily-carved pillars held up the ceiling far above their heads. Many doorways opened off the hallway on either side, but the king kept going straight, not even bothering to look to the left or right.

  There were few other dwarves in the halls at this time of night, the few exceptions being guards and servants; both hurried to get out of the group’s way.

  After a brief walk, they approached a magnificent rounded arch. On either side of the arch was a guard. The one on the right opened the door for the king.

  “Has anyone entered the throne room this evening?” Vognar asked.

  “Entered? No, my king, no one has entered since you left,” the guard replied.

  The king nodded his head, apparently that was the answer he had been expecting. Without another word, the king stepped between the guards and into the throne room.

  The throne room was awe-inspiring. Four rows of columns held up the ceiling several stories above their heads. The columns and the stone walls were made of worked marble. The columns were covered in carvings showing famous events of dwarvish history. The room was moderately well-lit, but none of the light-producing mold was in evidence, which left only one answer. “Magic,” Derek said quietly.

  A guard shoved him from behind and Derek took several quick steps forward to prevent himself from sprawling on his face. He whirled to face the guard but pulled up at the sight of three others, all shoulder-to-shoulder. “Keep moving!” the nearest guard growled and hefted a small cudgel in the air.

  Derek idly wondered if they would beat him here in the throne room and with the king watching. He quickly decided not to try the guards. He got the feeling they would enjoy beating him, or any of them for that matter.

  The king led them through the center of the columns. After twenty yards, stairs led up to an ornate throne. It was made of solid gold and precious stones covered the chair’s back above where the king’s head would rest. In the very center of the chair was a large, blood-red ruby. The ruby was easily the size of a man’s balled fist.

  Behind the throne, and slightly lower, were two doors, one on either side of the throne. Two ancient and heavily notched battle-axes hung on the wall above. Numerous low stone benches were scattered in broken circles facing the throne. It was exactly how Derek would imagined the dwarven throne room.

  Vognar began climbing the stairs toward the throne, but Blore stopped just short of the first step. He seemed to know better than to approach the throne uninvited. Emlin scurried off to the left.

  Belgil and the two Guardians stopped just behind Blore, with the dwarven guards spreading out in a semi-circle facing the captives.

  “Damn you, Belgil,” Vognar called as he neared the throne. “The key has been hidden in this throne for millennia and now I have to find a new place to hide it.”

  The king stopped facing the throne and reached out. His left hand pressed an emerald on the left chair-arm, while his right hand touched what appeared to be a small dent in the gold. There was a soft click and a small drawer popped open in the base of the throne. If he had been sitting, Vognar’s legs would have concealed the drawer.

  Vognar looked downwards into the drawer, staring for several long heartbeats, then he turned, looking ashen. “It’s gone!” he said in a gasping whisper.

  Chapter 15

  Derek let out a deep breath. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased to be proven right or disappointed that there were goblins in the dwarven tunnels.

  “How is that possible?” Blore asked. “Who could have taken it?” He glanced meaningfully toward Emlin, leaving no doubt as to what he thought about the ancient councilor.

  The meaning wasn’t lost on Emlin. The old dwarf’s chin came up and he glowered at Blore. “Bastard! Do you think I would help a goblin? Do you think me so vile?”

  “Silence!” Vognar barked. Some of his coloring was coming back, but he still looked shaken. “No one knew the key’s location. This… This just isn’t possible.”

  Belgil stepped forward, ignoring the hateful looks his father and Emlin were exchanging. “My king, at this moment, it matters little how this happened. You must alert the guards and the clans. With the dwarven soldiers gathered near the gates, the goblins could easily overrun the city.”

  Vognar stared at Belgil for several long moments, almost as if he wasn’t seeing the young dwarf. Finally, he shook his head and seemed to realize where he was. He looked to Blore and Belgil. “You saw the goblin near the Wizard’s Portal?” he asked.

  Belgil nodded. “His head was looking out the portal doors.”

  Vognar took a deep breath. “By the gods, we might have a chance yet.” Without another word, Vognar sprinted down the throne steps and ran flat out between the columns.

  There was a shocked moment where Blore and Emlin stared at each other in confusion. Then, almost as one, the group sprinted off after the king. To be as old as he was, the king was hard to catch, even for Belgil.

  They followed the king through the long corridors. Several times he turned to the right, finally slowing up next to two large double doors. There was a guard on either side of the doors, and they held their axes at the ready. They pointed the axes at the group following their king, seeming to believe that Vognar was under some type of attack.

  “Put those away,” Vognar barked, “and open the doors.”

  The two guards hastened to obey.

  “Where are we?” Kara asked, breathlessly.

  “The king’s chambers,” Emlin replied. The old dwarf was so confused that he forgot to be nasty.

  The heavy stone doors slid open slowly and Vognar quickly slipped through. The rest of the group followed a bit slower, giving the monstrous doors a chance to open wide.

  Vognar’s chambers were not opulent, not even close. The room beyond was small and square. A low bed with curtains hung around it lay along the far wall. There was a small couch, two desks – each with a chair, and five locked chests. The room was dark and spartan. For some reason, Derek would have imagined the king sleeping on a pile of gold coins.

  Vognar crossed the room and pulled a small box from under the edge of the bed. He quickly opened the box and removed a thin gold crown.

  Derek glanced around and saw his confusion mirrored in the others’ faces.

  “My king?” Emlin asked uncertainly.

  “Quick,” Vognar snapped, ignoring Emlin. “Give me an axe!”

  One of the king’s guards hurried over and handed him an axe.

  The king promptly dropped his crown to the floor, raised the axe over his head, and then brought it down with all the might he could summon.

  The axe hit the crown and with a spark split the crown into two pieces. For just a moment there seemed to be bright light in the room above the crown.

  The king dropped the axe and stumbled back to sit on the couch.

  “What did you do?” Blore asked.

  Vognar opened his mouth to answer, but stopped as a deep rumbling echo reached their ears.

  All the dwarves went pale at the sound.

  “What is it?” Kara asked.

  “That is the sound of a cavern collapsing,” King Vognar said in a very grave tone.

  Absolute silence greeted this announcement for several long moments. The silence was broken by Kara, “Are you sure?”

  Blore and Belgil both nodded.

  “If you live under the earth you become attuned to these kinds of things,” Blore said quietly.

  Derek looked to the broken crown on the ground and then up to Vognar’s face. “What did you do?” he asked, when he found his voice.

  King Vognar pulled his eyes off the br
oken crown to look out across the small group. He took a deep breath, looking unsteady, like he might faint. “If the gods are favorable, then I may have just saved us all.”

  “How, my king?” Belgil asked, giving the voice to the question that all those assembled were struggling with.

  The king chose to ignore the question for the moment. Vognar’s eyes looked past the captives to the group of guards arranged in front of the door. “Quick,” he said, putting emphasis on the word. “Send runners to the gates. Tell the defenders that there are goblins in the tunnels near the city.”

  For a moment, no one moved.

  “Now!” the king shouted. “Don’t stop running until you reach the gates or you drop dead.”

  The guards didn’t require their king to shout at them twice. There was a mad scramble for the door and several of the guards may have been injured trying to get through the opening. After a brief moment, Vognar and Emlin were alone with Belgil, Blore, Kara, and Derek.

  Emlin cleared his throat to get the king’s attention. “My king?”

  Vognar looked up from his study of the floor. He blinked, appearing dazed. “Yes?”

  “My king, could you tell us what you did?” Emlin said.

  Vognar nodded and took a step back, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He sighed deeply. “I destroyed the Wizard’s Portal,” he said after a moment.

  Derek and Kara shared a look. “Forgive me, King Vognar, but I don’t understand how,” Derek said. He glanced to the ground, at the remains of the crown.

  Vognar followed Derek’s gaze and nodded. “Yes, destroying the crown destroyed the Wizards Portal.” The king sighed deeply and looked disinclined to continue.

  Blore also was looking at the pieces of the crown. “You were expecting this?” he asked.

  Vognar shook his head. “No, not exactly.” He sighed again. He was still pale and appeared to be having trouble catching his breath. He collected himself and continued. “After we were nearly destroyed by the goblins, the dwarven kings decided to protect our kingdoms against the goblins ever again using the portal to attack us.” He paused but no one said anything so he held up a finger and continued. “First, we agreed to never use the portal except in an extreme emergency. That is why the key has been hidden in the throne; close if it’s needed, but not to be used on a whim.” He held up a second finger. “Secondly, the caverns where the portals reside have been enchanted. The cavern ceilings were enchanted so that they could be destroyed in an attack.”

  Blore was still looking at the broken crown. “The crown?” he asked.

  Vognar nodded. “The kings needed something that they could enchant; something that the king would always have near – the crown was the logical selection.”

  Derek nodded. “So when you destroyed the crown, the cavern collapsed?”

  Vognar nodded. “I only hope the goblins were still there, if they have sufficient numbers in the tunnels… “ His voice trailed off, leaving the implications unspoken.

  Kara still looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. When you destroyed the crown did it destroy all the portals in every dwarven city?”

  Vognar shook his head. “No, just the portal here. The other portals are tied to the crown of the king of that dwarven city.”

  “The bigger question is,” Belgil said quietly, “who took the key and opened the portal for the goblins?”

  Silence answered Belgil’s question but only for a moment. Derek raised his head from his study of the crown, a thought having suddenly occurred to him. “I would advise you to check where the human emissary is located.”

  Vognar looked confused for a moment and then his face darkened. “Emlin, check and see if Anton is in his quarters. If he is, insist that he join us.”

  Emlin bowed and hurried from the room without so much as a word.

  Derek momentarily wondered if the emissary’s rooms were as plain as the king’s. Perhaps all dwarves preferred such unadorned rooms, or perhaps it was just Vognar.

  Belgil was watching the king with an angry expression. It did not go unnoticed.

  “What? What is it?” King Vognar demanded in his normal gruff tone. He seemed to be finally calming down.

  “Why did you order our arrests?”

  Derek and Kara both looked to the king, both angry and curious.

  Vognar’s expression softened. “What do you mean, arrest? I ordered you kept clear of the city, that’s all.”

  “Then why were we put in the prison cells?” Belgil demanded. “And why did you want us kept away from the city?”

  Vognar sucked in a deep breath, looking angry again. “That damn Emlin!” He shook his head and gritted his teeth for a moment. “Emlin has a tendency to exceed my orders. If we survive this, I will have a very long talk with him.”

  “But why did you not want us in the city?” Kara persisted.

  “It was because of Anton,” Vognar explained. “We’ve been negotiating to stay out of the conflict between Telur and Zalustus. One of Anton’s unwavering demands was that any and all of Flare’s comrades that came under our control must be turned over to him.” Vognar paused and then lamely added, “I was trying to keep you safe.”

  “You’re not seriously considering an agreement with Zalustus, are you?” Kara asked, looking incredulous. “Do you know what kind of people they are?”

  Vognar dropped his eyes to the ground. “Does it matter?” he asked.

  “Does it matter?” Kara said, her voice rising in either anger or indignation. “Of course it matters!”

  Vognar shook his head. “Not to the dwarves. In all of our dealings with humans we have always been abused and swindled. It doesn’t matter if Zalustus wins or if Flare wins, the dwarves will suffer.”

  Kara’s eyebrows were pulling down in anger, now. “If Flare restores the Dragon Order, he will not try to conquer the dwarves,” she said heatedly.

  Vognar shrugged. “And Anton says the same thing about Zalustus. Who am I to believe?”

  “My king,” Belgil began, but Vognar talked right over him.

  “Besides, if there’s even a chance that we can get Ocklamoor back, then we must take it.”

  “And if Anton had something to do with the goblins in the tunnels?” Derek asked.

  Vognar looked surprised. “How is that possible?” he demanded. “Anton didn’t know where the key was kept. Also, he didn’t know about the portals.”

  “Zalustus uses goblins,” Derek said quickly. Kara looked to be about to say something more and in her current mood, Derek was afraid it might do more harm than good. “Since the goblins know of the portal, then Anton would know as well.”

  Vognar’s visage darkened. “Be careful. You’re about to accuse a dwarven guest of a heinous deed.”

  “Will you not even consider the possibility that this Anton is involved?” Blore asked.

  Vognar locked eyes with Blore. “Not without evidence. Surely no guest would do such a thing.”

  Derek wanted to snicker at the dwarven king. On the one hand, Vognar suspected humans of absolute treachery, but then he was naïve enough to think that a guest would not betray his host. “Even a human guest?” Derek asked.

  Vognar chose not to answer Derek’s question directly. “Besides,” he added, “how would Anton know where the key is located?”

  “As to that,” Blore said, “who all knows that the key is there?”

  Vognar looked grumpy again and didn’t answer the question.

  Derek snorted, drawing all eyes to him. “You’re the only one. The only one who knows that the key is there, aren’t you?”

  Vognar’s grumpiness was turning into downright hostility, but he was spared having to answer the question by Emlin’s sudden return. The old dwarf was alone.

  “My king, the human is nowhere to be found. I have sent the guards to search the city, but Anton is not in the palace.”

  “Well,” Blore said cheerfully, “there’s the first piece of evidence against him.”

  Vogna
r didn’t answer, but stood from the bed. He didn’t glance to either side as he strode from the room.

  The others scrambled to follow. The old and stooped Emlin was right on the king’s heels, reminding Derek of a faithful dog following its master.

  “Emlin!” the king bellowed, even though the councilor was less than two feet from him. “Find Rotir and bring him to me.”

  “My king,” Emlin panted, half-jogging to keep up with Vognar’s pace. “Rotir is in the armory. I told him to prepare the King’s guard.”

  Vognar didn’t respond to this bit of news, except to turn right at the next intersection. He headed toward the front of the palace.

  The guard’s armory was located to the left of the main entrance, concealed in the thick stone walls. The dwarves no longer seemed concerned with keeping the armory hidden, as its doors were thrown wide and dwarves streamed in and out. They didn’t stop at the arrival of the king, but did clear the center of the doorway, as they continued to flow in and out along the sides of the door.

  “Rotir!” Vognar barked.

  A mountain of a dwarf answered the king’s call. He was tall, for a dwarf, being at least a head taller than the other dwarves. He was broad and muscular, easily the most imposing dwarf that Derek had ever seen.

  Rotir was in his middle years, his wild, black hair had two grey streaks running through it. His beard was still black, but the sideburns were just starting to show the first tinges of grey. The black hair mixed with grey only added to his distinguished features.

  Rotir hurried to the king and bowed his head. “King Vognar, I have called in the reserves from the city. They’re still arriving, but we should be assembled and ready shortly.”

  “How many guards do you have?” Derek asked.

  The question pulled Rotir’s attention from Vognar to the two Guardians and his eyes widened. “King Vognar! Are these not the humans we were to arrest?”

  Vognar turned an angry expression to Emlin. “I do not remember giving orders for their arrest, Emlin.”

  Emlin paled under the king’s gaze. “My apologies. I simply meant to keep them safe.”

  “Liar,” Blore said quietly from the back of the group.