“So where did this usurper come from?” Aaron asked.
“He is a creature from ancient times.” Dunstan took a moment before he continued. “He came from outside the realm and, unable to defeat the King in direct combat, chose instead to lead the kingdom astray. The Book of Aleth was the one artifact that possessed the power to dispel the web of darkness cast by the usurper for it contained the words of the King himself. Now it’s lost, and with it so is the hope of restoration.”
Aaron watched as the dwarf ruler’s shoulders slump under the weight of his own words. He sympathized for Dunstan but fought against the belief that what the dwarf had said was true. “Your tale is intriguing, but I cannot believe it. You show me a picture and tell me about circumstances that may have occurred an eon ago. You cannot expect me to be swayed by such a fantastic story.” Aaron’s thoughts, however, were beginning to change. He wanted, very much, to believe the story of the dwarf lord. He longed for a real peace in Celedon. He wondered if he found the Book of Aleth, would it reveal the truth behind all the swirling mysteries that now covered his world like a fog.
“All that I’ve told you is true; I had hoped to convince you. The time is near for the restoration to occur, and without the Book of Aleth, there is no way to overcome the power of the emperor. If the Book is not recovered and the time of restoration passes, the nation will forever be locked in darkness. The emperor will have won ultimate victory and no hope will remain. You, Captain, may have become for us the herald of doom.” Dunstan, heavy with the burden, walked back toward the throne room with Aaron close behind.
The two entered from behind the dais and circled the throne to retake their empty seats. From the main entrance, the guards who had brought Aaron into the hall entered and took position behind the captain. Dunstan sat in his throne, and regained his firm countenance. He looked upon Aaron with a hardened expression, his eyes sharp like daggers. The dwarf’s voice was low as he worked to control his anger, “Now, Captain, I will ask you one last time, tell me all that you know… who has the book now?”
Aaron saw the flash of anger in his captor’s eyes, and determined to keep his knowledge to himself. “Lord Dunstan, I have told you all I am able and willing. I am in your power, and you will do with me in accordance with your own laws, so I see no reason to give you any more information.”
“Indeed, Captain, you will keep your knowledge.” The dwarf ruler clenched his teeth and pounded his fist against the throne. “It will follow you to the grave.” Dunstan looked to the guards. “Return him to his cell.”
The guards brandished their weapons and took charge of Aaron to escort him back to the barracks. As Aaron left, another dwarf entered from behind the throne and took a seat near Dunstan. It was the same elderly dwarf who had visited the throne room before. As Aaron exited the chamber he listened to the two dwarves speak in grave tones.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” the older dwarf asked.
“Yes, it’s the only way,” Dunstan replied.
****
Back in his cell, Aaron sat upon the straw pile alone. Lorik and Rayn were gone from the small chamber. The gravity of the situation weighed upon his mind like an anchor as he pondered all the words of the dwarf lord. For all the evidence shared by Dunstan, Aaron remained unconvinced and believed the dwarf lord sought to manipulate him. Yet somewhere in the depths of his mind, Aaron began to question his own understanding. He needed to know more and the only way was to escape and find the Book of Aleth. Like a spark that sets a forest ablaze, came a silent and disquieting thought into Aaron’s mind: what if Dunstan was right? Without any means of escape, however, he and his companions faced lifelong imprisonment, or worse, execution.
An hour later, Rayn and Lorik returned. They had spent most of their day in the common area. Rayn talked with a dwarf guard as he entered the cell.
“No,” quipped Rayn, “I don’t think that the battle-axe is superior to the conventional sword!”
“Hah!” said their escort, a rugged dwarf with dark brown hair and an exceptionally long beard. “You can’t compare ’em! I can hack apart a troll as easy as choppin’ wood with this,” he said as he patted his weapon. “Your puny swords are no match!” The dwarf laughed as he left. The cell door closed behind him with a dull thud. A quick rattle of keys sounded and the lock was snapped secure. Once the guard was out of earshot, Lorik and Rayn’s conversation immediately turned to strategies of escape.
“We might try and escape when they take us to the square,” Rayn said. “Or maybe we all fake an illness, and these dwarves might allow us to see a healer… oh, Captain,” Rayn noticed Aaron atop the pile of straw. “I didn’t know you had returned.”
“Captain, what have you learned…anything helpful?” Lorik said as he reclined beneath the small window. Rayn propped himself against the wall.
“I learned nothing that bodes well for our escape,” Aaron returned. He heaved a discouraged sigh, his heart heavy with the weight of their plight. “It seems that our end is planned for us. Dunstan means to either imprison us indefinitely or to”—Aaron paused with the dread of his thoughts—“to execute us.”
Lorik and Rayn gasped with the severity of Aaron’s words. Lorik stood motionless as Rayn began to pace the small room.
“Sir,” Rayn interjected, “then let’s find a way to escape. I’ll not simply walk up to the executioner’s block without a fight. I’ll fight with bare hands rather than allow these dwarves to take us on a whim!” His tone elevated until he was speaking loud enough for the guards to hear.
“You’re right…and if that is the case, we will fight to the last of our breath. But tell me, did you meet with the dwarf in the compound?” Aaron kept a dim glimmer of hope alive.
“As a matter of fact,” Rayn said, “we did. He was there, and he told us more about the creatures that took the book. These…these, oh what did he call them?”
“Deladrin,” Lorik added, “creatures of immense power and extreme evil.”
“Yes… that’s right,” Rayn continued, “deladrin. Well, sir, the creature you and I both saw must be one of these deladrin. It must have taken the book to these mountains he spoke of.”
“Did you ask this Braden if he will lead us to the mountain caves? We will need a guide in order to find our way to the old dwarf stronghold.” Aaron kept his hopes centered on the expectation of escape, and he wanted his men to concentrate on that objective as well. “We will wait for an opportunity…at some point these dwarves will slip and we will have our chance.”
“Yes,” Lorik said, “he did mention he wanted to escape with us. He hopes to have the opportunity to redeem himself. His people have forsaken him and count him of no value…his great desire is to prove his courage, but he never will get another chance from his people. He sees us as his chance to leave this captivity.” Lorik spoke with passion and seemed to sympathize with the imprisoned dwarf.
“Does he know that in helping us he may be siding against his own people?” Aaron did not completely trust the dwarf’s desire for redemption.
“Sir,” said Lorik, “he believes if he helps us to recover the Book of Aleth, it will bring about the restoration these dwarves have waited for.”
“Fine, as long as he keeps thinking that way he’ll be of use to us.” Aaron turned his thoughts to escape.
When Aaron finally looked up at the window, he noticed the day had vanished into the glowing remnants of dusk. A knock at the door startled him and Aaron rose to his feet. It was time for dinner but for weeks, the guards bellowed out their call to the inmates. Why no call tonight? Lorik shot Aaron a glance, his brows furrowed at the change of protocol. A key rattled the lock then the door slowly opened, creaking against the rusted hinges.
An older dwarf with a long, grey beard entered and carried a large tray of food. He was not the guard they had come to expect. He wore elegant raiment, adorned with gold and studded with precious gems. His braided beard was ornamented with gold strands and a gold-encrusted
belt hung upon his waist. He wore no axe, and was cloaked and hooded. Under heavy brows, his piercing eyes looked upon the three soldiers with sharp awareness. As he entered, Rayn approached him and took the tray from his hands. Then Rayn returned to stand with his comrades.
“Who might you be?” Aaron inquired.
“I am your hope of escape.” The stranger whispered as he glanced through the open door.
“You seem familiar to me,” Aaron said, his voice waivered with mistrust. “Have I seen you before?”
“Yes, once. I entered into the throne room as the three of you were escorted out. My name is Garam, and I am Lord Dunstan’s chief advisor. I have listened to your conversations with my lord and have been intrigued by your plight. However, Lord Dunstan will not follow my counsel in this matter. I advised him to spare your lives because I believe you have a destined role in our great hope. I urged him to allow you to seek the book. He refused, and you three are to be executed tomorrow morning.” Garam spoke as if some spy lurked in the shadows, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“I don’t trust you.” Rayn spoke with a cold look on his face. “You say you’re his counselor, but do dwarves abandon their associations so lightly?”
“I do not abandon my associations, and my actions here are in league with my loyalty to Dunstan. I was his father’s counselor before he died, and I’ve been Lord Dunstan’s counselor since he assumed his father’s throne. For two hundred years I have offered my wisdom to the regents of this land, and you will do well to trust my purpose in this matter.” Garam’s voice betrayed his agitation with Rayn’s comment. The aged counselor composed himself before continuing. “What I do in helping you is like the drop of a stone that begins an avalanche.”
Aaron was befuddled with the dwarf’s speech. “You don’t make sense, Garam. How can helping us be an act of loyalty to Dunstan?”
“Has all prophecy fallen from your land?” Garam expressed his agitation. “I don’t have time to explain, but it was spoken by the ancient King that restoration will come when men of your race begin to seek the Book of Aleth. I believe you are the ones spoken of in the prophecy. Dunstan does not. He believes Derrick, the man who had found the book in your realm, was the one. If I am right, you are the catalyst to the restoration. That is why I consider my actions to be in harmony with my loyalty to Dunstan…by helping you I will help to bring about the one great hope of our people.”
Rayn was still not convinced. He turned to Aaron. “Captain, this must be some sort of trick. I don’t trust him.”
“You either can trust me now, or you can die tomorrow. The choice will be yours,” Garam answered.
“I choose to trust,” Lorik replied.
“Indeed, it seems we have little choice.” Aaron turned to Garam and sized up his benefactor. “I don’t know if you can be trusted, Garam, and I am sure that there is more that you are not saying. But, we will believe you for now.”
Rayn began to protest but Aaron cut him off. “We can either die attempting escape or die waiting like animals to be slaughtered. We will choose escape, and, Private, that is an order.” Aaron turned his attention back to Garam. “There is one other that must accompany us who is also a prisoner here. His name is Braden, and he is a member of your race. He must leave with us.”
“We don’t have time, Captain,” protested Garam. “I need you to be ready at the change of guard. I will have a horse and wagon set to take us from here. Be ready…if you’re not, you’ll be left behind.”
“You will have Braden here,” Aaron was insistent, “for if he’s not with you, I will shout to the world that you are a traitor!” Aaron spoke with finality.
“Very well, I will do what I can. Just be ready to leave when I come!” With that, Garam left the room and locked the door behind him. He gave a quick remark to a guard who had just walked in from outside and disappeared out the barracks door into the night.
“What do you think, Captain?” Lorik asked.
“I think that our opportunity has come. This may be our best hope to leave this place and find the book,” Aaron replied.
“Well, I think it’s a trap,” Rayn huffed. “I don’t trust this situation or these wretched dwarves! I think that they are trying to manipulate us, and they want to use us for some purpose of their own.”
“One thing I’ve learned about this people,” Aaron returned, “is that they are deeply entrenched with the hope of this restoration. If Garam thinks we are elements in that process then I believe that he speaks the truth. One way or another, however, we will be ready to leave when he comes.”
“Captain, I still think that one of us must try and go back to Celedon and report all that has happened here! If we do escape, we need to warn the emperor about these dwarves,” Rayn protested.
“No,” Aaron snapped, agitated at his young soldier. “We will seek to recover the book. Those are your orders, and I expect that you will follow them,” Aaron said, hard pressed to keep his voice down, desperate not to alert any guards who might be able to hear the conversation. “Lorik…”
“Yes sir,” Lorik offered a slight grin as he replied.
Aaron paced back and forth in the small confinement. “After we eat we will take turns watching for Garam. We have a journey ahead of us and we must be well rested.” Eagerness and hope echoed in his heart. “You take the first watch; wake me in three hours to relieve you.” He turned his attentions to logistical concerns. “All of us will remain dressed and ready for flight. We don’t want to have to waste time in the dark fumbling with our boots.”
****
They ate their meal in silence. Aaron paced the floor, and Lorik knew the captain was anticipating their next step. When they had finished, Lorik took position near the door while Aaron and Rayn lay down on the straw for a brief, but much needed rest. Aaron slept without tossing for the first time since his abduction while Rayn didn’t sleep at all. He sat up near Lorik and took watch with him.
“Sergeant,” Rayn began, “I don’t understand why the captain won’t try and tell the emperor what we’ve seen. It seems reasonable to me that one of us ought to make our way back to the capital and bring this to his attention.”
“Private,” Lorik responded, “all we must do is to follow the commands of our captain. In all my years of service, Aaron has been the best commander I have served. He is not rash or cruel like so many others, but considers all options in his decisions. You will do well to heed his orders. He’s never led his men unwisely.”
“But,” Rayn protested, “where is the harm in sending one of us to the capital? And what sense is there in keeping us all together?”
“There’s great harm in sending one man alone, this is a perilous region, and a lone soldier might find himself without help in some dire circumstance. There is also sufficient reason to keep us together, for in the pursuit of this artifact we might need each other before the end. No, Private, the captain knows what he is doing, and we must trust him.” Lorik ended the conversation and turned his attention to the hall beyond the door, listening for any footsteps. Rayn sat quietly for a moment then returned to the straw bed.
****
Aaron thought he’d slept only a few minutes when Lorik woke him. He rubbed his eyes, and sat up brushing straw from his beard and hair. He stood and stretched his stiff limbs. After an exceptional yawn, Aaron asked, “How long?”
“Oh, about four hours, Captain,” Lorik replied. “The guard was changed an hour ago and won’t be changed again for three hours. I’ve not heard from our benefactor. I imagine he will come at the change of the second guard.”
Aaron moved around the cell and rubbed his arms for warmth. “Seems a bit colder,” he remarked. Aaron glanced down at Rayn who lay in the straw. The private moved in restless fits as he slept. He took Lorik’s place at the door. “You get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Captain,” Lorik said, “I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Aaron was concerned ab
out the troubled look that crossed Lorik’s face.
“Sir, it’s about the young private here. He’s not at all agreeable to the pursuit of this book. While you slept, he questioned your decision, and I get the distinct impression that he might become difficult.” Lorik spoke in a cautious whisper.
“He’s young, Lorik,” Aaron sympathized. “He’s never been in a situation like this… as a matter of fact neither have I, but you and I have both been in some dreadful circumstances. His inexperience shows, but I believe that he will prove true in the end. Remember, this is his very first mission with the guard. We’ve lost our men, seen creatures beyond our comprehension, been captured and sentenced to execution. It’s a lot for a young soldier to handle.” Aaron smiled at the incredulity of all they’ve been through. “Get some rest, my friend; I believe that we will be leaving soon.”
Lorik lay down and fell fast asleep while Aaron sat quietly by the door. The sounds of the other prisoners gently echoed through the corridors. One door down Aaron listened to the generous snores of a noisy dwarf. Two hours into his watch the silence was disturbed by the rhythmic sounds of footsteps in the hall. He woke his companions and kept them calm as they both bolted upright in alarm. The door lock turned slowly, as if the holder of the key made a great effort to keep quiet. Aaron cringed to hear the rusty iron hinges creak. In the silence the sound of the door was almost thunderous. Garam stepped in. Hooded and cloaked, he carried several bundles under his arms. He tossed the bundles to the floor and motioned for the men to approach.
“Quickly,” he whispered. “Put these cloaks on.” The men fumbled in the dark with the knots and donned the raiment. “I have a cart and horse outside the barracks. The dwarf guards are on the other side of the building sleeping off a draught of ale.” Garam moved to check the door. “We don’t have much time for the potion will only last an hour. It will give us a good start, but we must be off before the guards are aware of your escape and come looking for us.”
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