[Sundering 01] - Malekith

by Gav Thorpe - (ebook by Undead)

  One, the prince recognised immediately. He was Prince Aernuis of Eataine, a renowned admiral who had led some of the first ships across the ocean. Nothing had been heard from him for over forty years and it had been widely thought that his expedition had been lost. The reason for his long absence suddenly became clearer to Malekith, and he felt his anger rising at the secretive nature of the prince’s dealings with the dwarfs.

  The other elf was unknown to the ruler of Nagarythe, but by his bearing Malekith assumed him to be one of Aernuis’ councillors. Detecting a change in the atmosphere of the chamber, the elves looked up and saw Malekith striding into the throne room. Though it was hard to tell in the fierce light, it seemed to the prince that their pale faces blanched just a little more.

  Kurgrik hurried ahead of Malekith to present the prince to the High King, who was sat on his throne with an elbow upon his knee, his chin rested on his clenched fist. He sat up attentively as Kurgrik approached, and listened intently as the thane spoke for a long while. With a nod, the king directed his stern gaze towards Malekith.

  “Happy welcome you are to Karaz-a-Karak,” said Snorri Whitebeard, and Malekith flinched at the mangling of his native tongue, even as he was surprised by the High King’s use of it.

  “Hello, king,” Malekith replied in his finest Dwarfish, regaining his composure as quickly as he was able. He ignored the smirks upon the faces of Aernuis and his retainer, and saw neither amusement nor anger in the expression of Snorri. “I Malekith.”

  At this the king gave a satisfied nod, and gestured for Malekith to approach up the long stair. Malekith glanced over his shoulder towards Alandrian, and gestured for the lieutenant to follow him. His cloak billowing behind him, the prince of Nagarythe strode up the steps two at a time.

  “Malekith?” said the elf whose name the prince did not know. “You are the last person we expected to see here.”

  “So it would seem,” replied Malekith. “You know me, yet I do not know who you are. Please inform my companion, Alandrian, so that I might know the name of the impudent elf I shall soon slay for not using my full title.”

  “Sutherai,” the elf stammered quickly, casting a fearful glance at his prince. Malekith raised an eyebrow in displeasure.

  “Your highness,” Sutherai added with a visible shudder.

  The High King watched this exchange with what appeared to be an expression of interest, having obviously noted the tone in Malekith’s voice and that of Sutherai, if not perhaps understanding fully what had passed between them. Snorri then looked intently at Aernuis, who put on his most obsequious smile and said something in Dwarfish.

  “Outrageous!” spat Alandrian from behind Malekith, and the prince turned on his lieutenant with an inquisitive glare. There was also a look of shock upon the face of Sutherai, and one of sudden contrition upon Aernuis.

  “The prince just described you to the king as a minor noble, as far as I am able to understand,” Alandrian explained quietly, before quickly adding, “But do not react too harshly before the High King, I feel that Aernuis has closeted himself closely in his court.”

  Malekith absorbed these words and fought back his anger.

  “Please announce to the High King my full title, rank and line, so that he might better understand with whom he is meeting,” Malekith said evenly, his eyes piercing holes into Aernuis.

  Alandrian spoke at some length, and Malekith realised that his companion was indeed relating every title and rank that Malekith held. The king did not seem overly impressed, but cast a sideways glance at Aernuis, before replying to Alandrian.

  “King Snorri asks why it is that elves feel the need to have so many titles,” Alandrian said. “He is known simply as the High King.”

  “Because we value prestige and rank more than you cave-dwelling savages,” was Malekith’s mental retort, but he curbed his tongue and paused before replying.

  “Tell him that such titles are used only rarely,” Malekith said after a moment’s thought, “such as when lesser nobles forget their place and display a lack of respect.”

  This Alandrian truly translated as best he could, and the king looked at Aernuis with a deeper frown, his jaw churning as he considered the events unfolding about him. After a pregnant pause that lasted quite some time, Snorri met Malekith’s gaze and there was a peculiar twinkle in his eye. The king then broke into a grin, before laughing out loud. Malekith found himself smiling also, for the High King’s amusement was genuine, and there was no hint of mockery in his expression.

  Snorri pushed himself from his throne and strode up to Malekith, before grasping his hand and vigorously shaking it and slapping him on the arm. As Snorri returned to his chair of office, Malekith could not stop himself directing a sly smile towards Aernuis while the High King’s back was turned, which infuriated the rival prince even further.

  The king then muttered something in Dwarfish and ushered them all away with a shooing gesture. Malekith paused to bow before he turned, thinking it prudent to cement this small victory while he could. Aernuis walked beside him as they made their way down the steps.

  “Three years I have been here,” Aernuis declared. “In that time I have worked long and hard to build up the High King’s trust for me. You cannot simply stroll into Karaz-a-Karak and expect to be given equal rights as me.”

  “Remember whom you are addressing, Aernuis,” replied Malekith. “I know that these folk despise kinslaying even more than our own people, but if I do not get satisfactory answers from you, I will have your throat slit.”

  “In these halls, your threats are idle,” said Aernuis with a snort. “I have the protection of King Snorri; if you try to cause me harm, it would be like an assault upon the High King himself.”

  “We shall see how long that favour lasts,” said Malekith. “You cannot hide beneath his beard forever, prince. You have wronged me here, and that I will not easily forget, nor soon forgive.”

  They had reached the bottom of the steps and parted slightly. Malekith turned and laid a hand upon Aernuis’ shoulder, seemingly in friendship from where the High King was sat. In reality, the Eataine prince squirmed under Malekith’s iron grip as the Naggarothi lord’s fingers dug through his robes, deep into the flesh.

  “I look forward to feeding your carcass to the crows,” Malekith said pleasantly. “The only way you will regain my favour is to make yourself utterly indispensable to my cause. Tell me everything you know about these folk, and how you came to be here, and I may reconsider killing you.”

  Aernuis looked into Malekith’s eyes, hoping to see some hint of mocking or weakness, but there was none; the Naggarothi’s eyes were as hard as flint and as utterly devoid of emotion as a shark’s hungry gaze. Looking away, Aernuis freed himself from Malekith’s painful grip and straightened the creases in his robe. With a disconcerted look, he turned on his heel and skulked away, enduring the sneers of the Naggarothi still stood at the entrance.

  Later that night, Malekith supposed, though he could not tell for sure, Aernuis came to the prince’s chambers. Aernuis’ manner was one of conciliation and he gave a formal bow as he entered, though its impact was somewhat lessened by the fact that the tall elf had already been forced to stoop by passing through the low doorway.

  Malekith sat along the length of his short cot with his back against the wall. He was dressed in a flowing purple robe, his armour piled carefully upon the floor, for there was no stand tall enough to hold it. Other items such as his sword and helm were placed neatly on the low shelves of the small room. In his hands he held the dwarf-made brooch gifted to him in Karak Kadrin, and after glancing up at his visitor he returned his gaze to wonder at its workmanship.

  “I fear there has been some misunderstanding between us,” Aernuis said. “I am more than willing to share the spoils that founding a solid relationship with the dwarfs will bring. I am almost alone here, and life amongst these folk has led me into bad habits. I would be honoured to serve in whatever capacity I can, for the benefit of
Ulthuan.”

  “Go on,” Malekith said without looking up.

  “It has taken me many years to build what I have with the dwarfs,” explained Aernuis. “Only these last three years have I spent with the High King. Before that, I dwelt within Karak Izril, a city as far south again as you have travelled from Karak Kadrin. When we sailed across the ocean, we looked to find passage eastwards, but storms blew us onto the coast south-west of where we now are. Though most of my crew survived the wreck, the ship could not be saved and we were cast upon this strange shore with little in the way of supplies, and with no knowledge of where we had landed.”

  “Sounds dreadful,” muttered Malekith, still entranced by his brooch.

  “It was,” said Aernuis, ignoring the prince’s irony. “The lands between the sea and the mountains are infested with orcs, vicious green-skinned beasts intent on slaughter and destruction.”

  “Yes, I know them,” said Malekith, still feigning disinterest. “My sword has met more than a few.”

  “Goblins riding upon wolves assailed us, and we were driven ever eastwards, into the heart of the desolate wilderness that lies south of here,” Aernuis continued. “We fought as best we could, but their attacks were constant and gradually our numbers dwindled. For several months we wandered, ever trying to head towards the mountains, but often finding our route cut off by orc camps or marauding warbands. There was little to hunt, and hunger and thirst stalked us as much as the goblins. When but a handful of my ship’s company were left, the others decided to head back towards the coast in the hope that some other ship may have followed our course. I knew this to be folly, for we had been driven here only by chance, but they would not be dissuaded from their course of action, so I let them go. Only loyal Sutherai stayed with me.”

  “How heart-warming, I’m sure,” said Malekith, tossing the brooch onto a table beside the bed and swinging his feet to the floor so that he faced the Eataine prince. “So tell me, good admiral, what have you been doing for the last forty years?”

  “Sutherai and I made it to the foothills, travelling at night, hiding in stream beds and marshes to avoid detection during the day,” said Aernuis, and his haunted expression as he recalled those times was a testament to the fear that he had felt. “We came upon a strange building, and thinking it abandoned, we took shelter. The orcs did not approach it, and so we made camp there for some time. It was, of course, a dwarf fort, and six days after we came there, the dwarfs returned. At first they were going to slay us out of hand, but I expert that so bedraggled and pitiful we looked, they stayed their axes. Curiosity saved us, and they took us back to Karak Izril, where we lived for many years.”

  Aernuis looked at Malekith’s unconvinced expression and sighed.

  “I do not expect you to understand our plight,” Aernuis said. “We were two strangers very far from our own lands. We did not know if there were other elves within a thousand miles, and even if there were, there was no way that we could contact them. Even when we had learned a little of the dwarfen tongue, and they came to trust us more, we could not leave. Where would we go? Out into the wilderness, boldly striking out for friends that in all likelihood did not exist? I felt as if I had stumbled upon all the riches of the world, but had nobody with whom to share them, nothing on which to spend them.”

  “Riches?” asked Malekith, dropping his pretence of indifference.

  “You have seen how they decorate their halls, the gold and silver they wear, the artisanship of their weapons,” said Aernuis. “It is but a fraction of the wealth of these mountains. Every hold has vast vaults filled with gems and precious metals, I have seen them. They covet gold like no other thing, and hoard it as a squirrel keeps nuts for the winter. Seeing you, I realised that much has changed since I left Ulthuan, and I think that now we must hold all the varied riches of the wide world in our hands. If we can but broker trade with the dwarfs, you and I will become preeminent amongst all of the princes.”

  “I am already pre-eminent,” said Malekith.

  “Your soldiers are perhaps not so sure,” said Aernuis.

  “What do you mean?” demanded Malekith, angrily rising to his feet.

  “Sutherai has spoken with many of them, and learned that Bel Shanaar has grown rich and powerful on the proceeds of his empire,” Aernuis said. “Though your claims here grow by the year, who can say how the fortunes of Nagarythe fare back on Ulthuan? Yet if you can reach agreement with the dwarfs, and act as arbiter between their kings and the Phoenix Throne, it is you who shall hold Bel Shanaar’s fate.”

  “Alandrian should learn to control his tongue,” Malekith muttered.

  “With me by your side, you have a partner ready and willing to speak to King Snorri on your behalf,” Aernuis continued. “Without me, it will take you twenty years or more to earn his trust, and in that time many things can happen. It was by chance that we both met with these folk, but as our cities grow and more of our people cross the seas, how long before others encounter them also? If you fear me as a rival, you must fear time more, for we have an opportunity here to create something that will seal our places in history, but it will not last forever.”

  “Perhaps I misjudged you,” said Malekith, and hope filled Aernuis’ face, but it quickly dissipated when he saw the Naggarothi’s cruel expression. “I thought you a coward, but instead you are merely a merchant. I am the prince of Nagarythe, a warrior and general, not a trader to barter deals and haggle with lesser entities.”

  “And how glorious might be the armies of Nagarythe with the wealth of the mountains in your coffers?” said Aernuis with a smile. “Dwarf-forged spears in their hands, and dwarf-made arrows in their quivers? You have seen their buildings, sturdy and strong. Crude in look, but we can learn their techniques and turn them to our advantage, to create beautiful palaces in which to pass away our long days, and soaring castles that will defend our realm for eternity. Much of what they make is rough and functional, but if guided by an elven hand, think what their mastery of stone and metal and wood would bring to our people. It is not just trade that this relationship will herald, but a new era of elven dominion.”

  “I do not think that they will give up their secrets lightly,” said Malekith.

  “They will not,” replied Aernuis. “But if they will give them up at all, they will give them up to us!”

  Malekith sat down again, deep in thought. He imagined the legions of Nagarythe marching upon roads that cut through hills and over bridges that spanned wide rivers and mountain passes. He had seen the odd mechanical bows that many of the dwarfs carried, and wondered what his finest marksmen could do with such weapons.

  Only after a while did he remember that Aernuis was still in the room. He looked up at the prince, who was wracked between expectation and dread as he looked at Malekith pondering the future.

  “Very well,” Malekith declared. “You have proved yourself useful to me, and I shall not slay you yet. You may leave me now.”

  Aernuis bowed again with as much dignity as he could muster, and then departed. Malekith picked up the brooch from the table and looked at it again, tracing a finger over its entwined patterns. With a smile, he attached it to his robe and stood, calling for Alandrian.

  ——

  Beasts in the Mountains

  What Aernuis had said proved to be true; the dwarfs were reluctant to treat with any outsiders. However, the Eataine prince’s long standing in Karak Izril and his exemplary behaviour in the capital had garnered him a measure of respect, and by association this passed also to Malekith.

  The Naggarothi ruler despatched some of his company to return to Athel Toralien, so that proper scribes and diplomats could come to Karaz-a-Karak. The dwarfs laboured likewise, assembling embassies from the many holds across the mountains, for these debates concerned not just Karaz-a-Karak but all of the dwarf empire.

  It took the whole of the summer for the preparations to be made, and Malekith was always careful to send regular missives back to Ulthuan so t
hat no suspicion was aroused, whilst conveying as little information as possible so that he would personally remain pivotal to the discussions. This position of influence was helped considerably by the fact that the three elves in the world that had some true understanding of dwarfish were allies of Malekith—Aernuis, Alandrian and Sutherai.

  In that time, Malekith also went to great lengths to befriend King Snorri, at first seeking political power but later out of an unexpected but growing affection for the High King. As Malekith’s grasp of the dwarfs’ language improved, he spent more time with Snorri.

  “What is best about Nagarythe?” the High King asked one day.

  The two were alone in a reception room of the king’s chambers. Malekith sat upon a chair the king had personally commissioned for his tall companion, while the king slouched in a deep armchair upholstered in thick elk hide. The servants had left a keg of ale and a large plate of pies on the low table that lay between them.

  “The blue skies,” Malekith answered without hesitation. “The air is cold and crisp and the north wind stirs the senses. Sometimes she sighs through the pine forests, other times she howls over the mountain peaks.”

  “And what do you think of my mountains?” said Snorri. “Do they compare to your homeland?”

  “They are mighty,” laughed Malekith. “Taller than the peaks of Nagarythe and greater of girth. But I travelled beneath them for the most part and have not yet walked upon them.”

  “That will not do!” declared Snorri, jumping to his feet. “What host am I to show you my rooms and keep from you the beauty of my lands? Do you enjoy hunting?”

  “Very much,” said Malekith. “I have tracked and slain many a monstrous beast in the Annulii.”

  “Have you ever killed a troll?” asked Snorri enthusiastically. “A cragwyrm, or a daggerfang?”