Sela hung her head. Mitca was right. An alliance with the dwarves was their only hope. If Emperor Vosper had already formed an alliance with the orcs, then they had to move as quickly as possible. Parthos and all of its citizens were in grave danger. Sela rubbed her temples. She had a pounding headache. She could feel the tendrils of Brinsop’s consciousness. Her dragon knew that something was wrong, and he was already waiting on the fortress ramparts for her.
“I hear and obey, my king.” Sela ended their conversation formally, and walked out of the throne room. Mitca heard Sela’s soft footfalls as she left the chamber. This was the greatest threat that his city had ever faced. How was he going to tell his people?
***
Chapter 13: Faerroe, City of Thieves
Thorin and Elias had been riding for two days when they finally reached the city of Faerroe. The city itself was about half the size of Jutland. From the outside, the cities looked similar, but that’s where the similarities ended. Disfigured beggars lined the road up to the city gates, crying out with their hands extended.
“Thorin, what has happened to all of these poor people?” Elias whispered in shock. Elias had never seen anything like it.
“They’re vagrants. Faerroe is bursting with them. Thieves, too. This city isn’t safe, even during the day. So watch yourself. Most of the city’s inhabitants are involved in black market smuggling.”
Thorin and Elias walked into Faerroe unchallenged. There was one fat guard at the gate, drinking steaming liquid from a grimy cup. The guard nodded at them as they entered, but otherwise said nothing. Greasy black smoke belched from stovepipes, and raw sewage filled the polluted stream running through the city.
At one point, a beggar grabbed Elias’ saddle bag and tried to empty its contents. Thorin leaned over and rapped the beggar’s knuckles with his knife handle.
“Shoo! Go away!” he scolded. The beggar glared, rubbing his sore fingers. He made an obscene gesture, and then skulked away.
“Thorin, why are we coming here? Can’t we just go around this city?”
“I need information, and I have an important contact here. We need to find out if it’s safe to take Orvasse River up to Mount Velik. If not, we’ll have to go by the coastline, which will add weeks to our journey. My friend will know if it’s safe to travel the river. He’s a smuggler, but an honest smuggler.”
“How could someone possibly be an ‘honest’ smuggler?”
“You’ll see what I mean when you meet him,” said Thorin, smiling. He seemed unperturbed by all of the filth and beggars.
As they made their way into the city, Elias noticed some merchants on the streets, most were selling prepared food. Some of it was highly questionable. One man offered fresh rabbit, but Elias thought that the skinned carcasses looked suspiciously like cats.
Another sold fried dough, cooked in hot grease. The man kept chasing away children, all of whom looked like they were starving. At one point, one child kicked the man in the shins, and he gave chase down the block, which was just enough time for a tiny accomplice to steal a few pieces of cooked dough.
Elias smiled. He was glad these boys were able to get some food. He could see these people were desperate. Poverty and squalor was everywhere. They rode deeper into the city, which didn’t seem to improve. After a while, they stopped in front of a plain house with an iron gate out front. It was two stories, with peeling blue paint. Thorin banged on the gate and called out, “Aye! Aye! Falenrith!”
A moment later, a thin man poked his head out of the curtains upstairs. “Who is making all that racket?” Then he paused. “Thorin? Thorin Ulfarsson? Is that you?”
“Aye, it is,” he replied.
“I’ll be right down,” the thin man replied. They heard a series of latches being opened, and Falenrith swung open the gate. He was tall, with dark hair and a sparse goatee.
“How are you, old stonebreaker? It’s good to see you again.” Falenrith bent down and grabbed Thorin in rough embrace. “Come in, come in. My daughter has just finished making some flatcakes. We can talk over dinner.”
“That would be fine, old friend. That would be just fine,” said Thorin. They walked up the stairs, and into a small kitchen. Thorin sat down on a stool. Then he pulled his pipe out of his pocket and started to smoke.
A young girl kneeled by the hearth, cooking some flattened bread on a heated stone. A boy, about the same age, was carving a block of wood in the corner. The children both looked to be about twelve years old. They were all very thin, just like their father.
“This is Abby and Braden. My twins.” The children waved, but did not say anything. “Abby, please cook a few extra flatcakes for our guests, and get us all a cup of tea.”
Abby poured Thorin and Elias each a mug of hot tea. “Thank you, lass,” said Thorin, accepting the cup. A few minutes later, she gave them both two flatcakes, and they settled down on woven mats in the kitchen to eat.
“So, Thorin, I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing in a place like Faerroe?”
“I came to see you. Do you still manage the Shadow Grid?”
Falenrith grimaced. “Abby and Braden, please go to your rooms. We must speak in private.” Then his voice dropped to a whisper. “Thorin, how can you come out and just ask me about this? Who is this boy? I don’t know him, and I’m not sure if I trust you!”
“I’m sorry to be so frank with you. But we’ve got a necromancer chasin’ us, and we really don’t have time to be delicate.”
“A necromancer?” Falenrith sucked in a quick breath. “Are you sure?”
“I peered into its black eyes myself. It was in Jutland, searching for Elias. This boy is Carina’s grandson.”
“Carina’s grandson?” Falenrith groaned. “Then it’s begun. I knew that it would happen sometime, but I just didn’t know when.”
“What are you both talking about?” asked Elias. He was getting tired of everyone talking about him like he wasn’t present.
“Elias, Falenrith used to be a leader in the Shadow Grid. The Shadow Grid was a network of thieves and spies that worked for the resistance,” explained Thorin. “The thieves in the Grid are unique because they all mageborn, and none of them work for the empire.”
Elias’ eyes widened. “A whole network of free mages? Why, that’s great!”
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, son, but the Grid is not a network of free mages… as much as a network of starving ones.” Falenrith turned to Thorin. “Things have changed since we spoke last. The Grid has disbanded. The emperor captured or killed most of us. I estimate that less than a dozen remain. I don’t really know for sure. I’ve been in hiding in Faerroe for over five years, and I haven’t cast a single spell in that time. I still do some smuggling. Textiles, mostly. I try to avoid calling any attention to my family. After Muriel was killed…” Falenrith’s voice broke “… I just lost the will to fight. I’ve been raising Abby and Braden on my own here. It’s been difficult, but at least I feel safe.”
“You feel safe in Faerroe?” asked Elias incredulously.
“Yes. The city itself is awful, but I’ve never seen an empire soldier in all the years I’ve lived here. This management of the city is such a catastrophe that we hide in plain sight.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” Elias responded.
Thorin leaned forward, patting Falenrith’s knee. “I’m sorry for your loss, old friend. Muriel was a good mage and a fine woman. But you can’t stay here. You can’t. The empire is coming. Soldiers will come here, probably within the next few days. You’ll do best to leave the city by tomorrow.”
“I don’t need your advice, old man,” Falenrith snapped. “In fact, I’m tired of bad news. That’s all I hear.”
“My advice was well-meant, old friend. You would do well to listen,” said Thorin.
“Is that why you came here? To give me a warning?” asked Falenrith.
“No. I came because we need information. We need to know if travel on the river is safe.”
>
“How would I know that?”
“Well, I knew that you handled the smuggling routes. At least you did years ago. But if you know nothing, then we’d best be on our way,” said Thorin, rising from his chair. This conversation was going nowhere.
“Okay, okay… Wait. Just wait.” Falenrith raised his hand and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so hard these last few years. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. As for the river—you can still travel down the Orvasse River. I also know something else. At the time, the information … it seemed impossible. I thought it was a mistake.”
“What is it?” asked Thorin.
“A few weeks ago, I got a cryptic message from Norgul. He’s living up north, studying with the free mages in Miklagard. They use bird messengers to monitor the travel routes up there. He said that there has been a lot of military activity near Mount Heldeofol.
“Isn’t that the orc kingdom?” Elias asked. Thorin’s expression remained calm as always, but Elias saw Thorin’s lips twitch.
“Yes, it is,” replied Falenrith. “Norgul intercepted a message from one of Vosper’s couriers, but they could not decipher it. The only thing they knew for certain was that the message was from the emperor. It could not have been a forgery. The emperor’s seal was unbroken.”
“The dwarves also heard rumors, but did not believe it, either,” said Thorin. “Then there is no doubt. The emperor is communicating with King Nar.”
“Who is King Nar?” asked Elias.
“The orc king. He’s been wanting to get his revenge on the dwarf clans for a long time,” said Thorin. “If Vosper forms an alliance with the greenskins, then the entire continent is at risk. Orcs have no sense of morality or decency. They will kill everything in their path. I would not have imagined it, but if this is true, then the emperor has truly gone mad. Elias, we must return to Mount Velik at once. Our lives are in more danger than I originally predicted. I’m sorry, but we will not be going to the Elder Willow.”
“Where will we go next?” asked Elias.
“Take the Orvasse River. It’s safe,” said Falenrith. “I have a friend who charters boats at Hwīt Rock. If you make it to the outpost, then he will transport you to Mount Velik. The captain’s name is Gremley and his boat is the Chipperwick. He’s smart and fair, and he doesn’t ask too many questions. Just tell him that I sent you, and that you wish to go to Ironport. That’s only a few leagues from Mount Velik, and it won’t arouse any suspicion.”
“I believe I’ve met Gremley. I purchased a passage from him over a dozen years ago—he might remember me still. That’s it, then. We’ll head towards the Orvasse River tonight. Once we get to Hwīt Rock, we will charter a boat and travel to Mount Velik,” said Thorin. “It’s the fastest way.”
Falenrith stood up, and shook both their hands. “Good luck to you both. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“What will you do?” Elias asked Falenrith.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. We’ve moved before, and under greater duress than this. We can’t go east—the emperor will kill us. If we’re lucky, we might make it to Miklagard alive. We’ll have to travel over the mountains and through Lockdell Barrens, so we’ll have to wait until the weather improves. If we leave Faerroe, we might be able to stay further south. I have an aunt in Starryford.” Falenrith paused and ran his hand through his hair. “I must go tell my children. You can let yourselves out.” he turned and walked out of the room.
“He’s upset, Thorin,” said Elias.
“I expected him to be. No one likes to hear bad news. It’s better that he finds out now. At least he can make an educated decision. The emperor has been searching for him for years, and there is still an active bounty for his head.”
Elias peeked around the corner, and saw Falenrith talking quietly to his children. They looked so thin and fragile.
“Let’s go, boy. We’ve worn out our welcome here,” said Thorin quietly. “We’ve got to leave. There’s some hard day’s riding ahead for us.”
“It seems like hard days are ahead for all of us,” thought Elias.
***
Chapter 14: The Night Visitor
Elias and Thorin rode hard for the next three days. They ate in their saddles and only paused to relieve themselves and to allow the horses to drink. They kept off the regular road, and Elias used a concealment spell whenever they saw other travelers. They slept very little, stopping only a few hours. They rose before the sunrise to continue on again.
On the third day, Thorin paused and pointed into the distance. “See that outcropping of rock? That’s Hwīt Rock. There’s a trading post there, and boats for hire. We’ve got at least another full day of hard riding before we reach it. We’ll keep going until the light fades, and then we’ll make camp. The horses must rest.”
Elias nodded. His mare had flecks of white spittle around her mouth. He patted her neck soothingly and whispered in her ear, “I know you’re tired, old girl, but we’re almost there.” They were all exhausted.
They rode on until nightfall and then Thorin stopped and dismounted. There was a spring nearby and the horses drank water and started to graze. “Here’s a good a place as any. We can’t risk lightin’ a fire, so why don’t you just lie down and rest? I’ll take the first watch.”
Elias nodded and pulled out one of the hides. It was stiff, but he was grateful for it, because the ground was still pretty wet and cold. He propped himself up against a tree and started eating a piece of flatbread. This was the last of their rations, but both of them were too tired to hunt. “Thorin, how long will it take for us to get to Mount Velik once we reach the river?”
“About three days, if we get a speedy vessel. Perhaps four. We don’t want to be sailin’ past the capital city during the day. The emperor has defensive posts on both sides of the river. We shouldn’t compromise safety for speed, but I won’t know for sure until we reach the river.”
As the last of the light faded, Elias pulled out a white crystal from his pocket. “Liuhath!” he whispered, and the crystal glowed with warm blue light.
Thorin smiled. “That’s a neat little trick, boy.”
“It will stay lit all night. It’s one of the first spells I learned. The crystal holds the energy of the spell, so it lasts a long time without draining my energy. My grandmother used crystals to store magical energy, but I never really learned how to do it. This is only crystal spell I know.”
“Crystal magic is a disappearing art, boy. There aren’t many that are proficient at it, anymore, because it takes so long to learn.”
“Do any of the dwarf mages practice crystal magic?”
“Only a few in our history, and only one that I know of who is still alive. He is old, much older than I. There are only a half dozen dwarf mages at Mount Velik. It’s not a common gift for our people. Usually, the mageborn trait is passed down from a human ancestor, or, more rarely, from one who has elven blood.”
“There are dwarves with elven blood?” asked Elias incredulously. “I’ve never even seen an elf.”
Thorin nodded, “I’ve known at least a few in my time. It’s not something that dwarves like to reveal. Half-lings are discriminated against at Mount Velik, although mageborn dwarves are highly esteemed.”
“That doesn’t make much sense—especially if you basically have to be a half-ling in order to be dwarf mage.”
“I didn’t say there was any logic to it, boy. My people are long-lived and set in their ways. That’s just the way things are. It takes a lot to change us.” Thorin removed his pipe from his coat pocket and started to smoke.
Elias smelled the pungent smokeleaf in the air. His eyes started to get heavy. “Thorin, do you mind if I ask—how old are you?”
Thorin smiled, and blew rings of smoke. “I’m not old by the standards of my people, but I’m old by human standards. Let’s see… When your grandmother was a little girl, I was already a full-grown man. Does that help?”
“Really?” asked Elias, his eyes w
ide.
“Yes, really. Now go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Elias pulled the hide around him, and tried to get comfortable. His mind raced—“I’ve learned more about my family in the last week than I have my entire life. There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep,” he thought, but just moments later he drifted off.
***
Elias had been asleep for hours when the cold awoke him. He shivered and pulled the hide closer to his body. His crystal lay on the ground, still glowing dimly. Elias picked it up and saw that Thorin was asleep. That was odd. He was always good at covering the first watch.
“I wonder how long we’ve both been sleeping?” he thought to himself. It was pitch black. The sky was overcast and there were no moon or stars visible. It was impossible to estimate the hour.
A cold burst of wind hit him again, and he shivered. “I should probably let Thorin sleep. I can take over the watch.” Elias sat up and stretched. As he did so, he felt a clammy finger slide across the nape of his neck.
“Aughhh!” he screamed, spinning around.
“Ssssssso boy, we meet again,” said the necromancer. She removed her cloak. In the dim light of the crystal, he could see the necromancer’s milky white skin. Her eyes and hair were black, and she had no pupils.
Elias’ face drained of color, and he felt blood pounding in his ears. “Thorin! Thorin! Wake up!” he yelled, but Thorin did not respond.
“Your dwarf friend cannot hear you. He’s slumbering until I say otherwise.” She floated over and patted Thorin on the head, like a dog. “I could leave him ssssleeping for all eternity. Or at least until he starved to death,” she hissed, laughing.
“W-What do you want?” asked Elias.
“Isn’t it obvious, my boy? I want you. You’re the reason I’ve come here. I’m going to take you back to the emperor myself. Why do you think I let you escape in Jutland?”
Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) Page 11