by Sam Ferguson
Hiasyntar’Kulai raised his foreleg to strike again, but then stopped short as Gorensikdar began to laugh.
“What, will you remain here forever and slap me for every sin I have committed?”
The golden dragon knew there was no more point to speaking with the black dragon. He had gotten the information he needed. He started to leave, but issued a warning to his wayward son. “Remember, Gorensikdar, I can still reach you. Be careful that your love for chaos does not anger me beyond my limits. I have the power to rend your soul apart.”
Gorensikdar stopped laughing, but the evil smirk remained. “Why Father, do I detect a lie coming from the blessed Father of the Ancients? You and I both know that only the Aurorean had the power to destroy a dragon’s spirit. You should be cautious not to provoke me, for I too can still reach the mortal realm.”
“What do you mean?” Hiasyntar’Kulai asked.
Gorensikdar laughed. “When you go to Hammenfein to speak with Tu’luh, ask around about Basei, the demi-god of war. I think you will uncover that interesting events have, in fact, transpired by my hand. I too, have power to reach out and wound.”
Hiasyntar’Kulai had heard enough. He flew up and started to leave the plane of the dead. However, he had one more punishment for Gorensikdar before he left. A warmth built up in his chest. It churned and rolled within him as it grew. It felt very similar to the sensations of gathering flame to spew out of his mouth, but this was something far different. The golden dragon’s chest began to glow and the elven spirits below began to point and whisper.
Then, as the intensity built up beyond what Hiasyntar’Kulai could contain, he opened his mouth and issued forth a searing white beam of light that scattered the darkness. A great, high-pitched melody rang out through the plane of the dead as the beam shot out to the farthest horizon. A great flash, like an exploding star, erupted when the beam of light hit the edge of Gorensikdar’s darkness. That explosion rippled through the vast expanse and chased away the chaos that the black dragon had brought to the area.
The sky was now as bright as if the sun were hanging in the heavens above. Grass shot forth instantaneously from the barren rock below, as did flowers of every color. Trees began to sprout and reach upward. In the void beyond the mass of rock, water appeared.
Hiasyntar’Kulai could hear the terrible, angered roar of his son as the darkness was chased away and replaced with a brilliant paradise. The elven spirits below cheered and praised Hiasyntar’Kulai for restoring the beauty that had filled the plane of the dead before Gorensikdar had come.
“That is better,” the golden dragon said to himself as he disappeared from the plane of the dead, leaving his crazed son to rant and wail as he lost his powers over that portion of the plane of the dead.
CHAPTER 4
Year 3,711 Age of Demigods, Summer.
2nd year of the reign of Aldehenkaru’hktanah Sit’marihu, 13th King of Roegudok Hall.
Deep in the eastern hills, set within the thick forests nestled at the base of the mountain range that separated the Middle Kingdom from the Eastern Wilds, Threnton sat inside an old, dilapidated cottage. A clay bowl of long-cold soup sat before him untouched. A pewter goblet of wine was half full. The deposed former king of Roegudok Hall was alone, sitting in the dark as bits of starlight filtered into the room through sizeable holes in the roof. His gray hair, a byproduct of his battle with his brother Al, waved in the wind as the door swung open.
A tall man in a light cloak stood in the doorway, peering into the dark room. Threnton noted the rapier dangling from the man’s left hip. The man stepped into the room and pulled back the hood of his cloak, yet his face remained covered by the shadows of night until he moved in close enough for Threnton’s eyes to pierce the darkness.
“I didn’t expect you to be alone,” the man said as he moved to sit at the table opposite Threnton.
“Robert Delmecian,” Threnton said in a low voice. “I have heard that you know how to contact individuals who are willing to hire on for, shall we say, delicate matters. Is this so?”
Lord Delmecian removed his black gloves and set them to his left, as if preparing to eat a meal with the deposed dwarf king. “It is not common, to see a dwarf working in the shadows and lurking about the surface at night,” he said in his annoyingly nasal voice. “I, of course, know what you want from me, but my question is what do you have to offer in return?”
Threnton smiled. He was not overly fond of the tall folk. He thought humans only marginally better than orcs. Still, he appreciated Delmecian’s brevity. It was a welcome departure from a human’s, especially a noble’s, tendency to ramble on, prattling the night away without ever accomplishing any significant business. Now, Threnton would see if he had something to entice the good noble with.
“I can offer revenge,” Threnton said flatly.
Delmecian laughed aloud and shook his head. “Revenge?” he echoed. “I have no quarrel with the dwarves of Roegudok Hall. For all of my life, they have been silent inside the mountain. Why should I care if you murder your brother?”
Threnton tapped his solid knuckles on the table and reestablished silence. “No, you have no quarrel with the dwarves, but you do have a quarrel with King Mathias,” Threnton said evenly.
“You offer to kill Mathias if I help you murder the king of Roegudok Hall?”
“He is NOT the king!” Threnton hollered as he slammed his fist down on the table.
From the shadows emerged seven other dwarves, each armed with swords and ready to pounce on Delmecian. The nobleman took in a breath, but mostly ignored the dwarves. With a calm voice he asked, “I was under the impression that I was to come alone, was that not the arrangement?”
Threnton sniggered. “My scouts told me a long time ago that you brought four men with you,” he said evenly.
Delmecian beamed from ear to ear and slid his hands onto the table. “Ah, what has happened to the trust in the world, huh?” Delmecian then cocked his head to the right and held up a finger. “I am afraid, however, that your scouts are mistaken. I brought five men with me.”
Threnton narrowed his eyes on Delmecian. The noble grinned even wider and snapped his fingers. From the shadows to the left, emerged a man clad in black. The nearby dwarves startled and turned to face the new threat, but Threnton knew on sight who the intruder was.
“Stand down,” Threnton said decisively. “This is our other guest.”
“A guest?” Delmecian repeated. “I am not sure I would ever count a Blacktongue as a guest, but then again, I never thought I would be doing business in a ruined cottage with a dwarf.”
“Name your price,” Threnton told the Blacktongue.
The warrior moved to the table and slowly slid a wickedly curved scimitar out, the blade glinting in the moonlight as he set it upon the table. “To kill a dwarf king is a great undertaking,” the assassin said in a low voice. “I will require a share of Roegudok Hall’s treasury.”
“How much?” Threnton asked as he arched a brow. Spies on the inside had already informed Threnton that the mines had dried up months ago, but that was not a fact he was about to share with a mercenary.
“As you are certainly aware, most of our kind have been slain. Normally, I would not even speak with a dwarf, but desperate times have presented me with few options.”
“You seek to rebuild your order then?” Threnton asked. The Blacktongue nodded. “How much of the treasury will you need?”
“Training Blacktongues is a very expensive ordeal. I will need fifty thousand bars of gold and five pounds each of refined diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.”
Threnton whistled through his teeth. Even if the treasury was full, that would be a staggering price to pay. “Why not ask for gold coins?” he fired back.
“Coins are no good,” the assassin replied. “The coins used in the Middle Kingdom will be of no use to me where I will go.”
“Where is that?” Threnton pressed.
The Blacktongue shook his massive, shaved head. “I wi
ll tell you where to deposit the treasure, but that is all. After this job is completed, then we will go our separate ways.”
This job. Threnton smiled and nodded. “I have spies on the inside. My brother has squandered much of my people’s wealth, but I believe there is more than enough left in our coffers to fulfill your demands,” he lied. Then he turned back to Delmecian.
“Your money does me little good,” the nobleman said. “I have more than I could spend in this life as it is.”
“My original offer still stands,” Threnton said as he shifted in his seat. “I know Mathias is out of reach, but I also know that your southern estate was sacked by the orcs as they moved into the Middle Kingdom.”
Delmecian’s self-assured smile disappeared and the man stiffened as he took in a breath and set his jaw. Threnton knew he had hit the right nerve.
“Help me retake the throne, which is rightfully mine, and I will assign my cavedog riders to you. I know that you were summoned to Drakei Glazei before your estate was attacked. I also know that the captain left in charge of the guard assigned to your estate fled when he saw the orcs.”
“This is common knowledge,” Delmecian snarled hastily.
Threnton held up a finger. “Ah, but I know where the captain is now. I have his location, as well as the location of each of the men that fled with him, written down.”
“How could you come by this?” Delmecian asked incredulously. “I, myself have spent much treasure to find this information. Even today I have only found three of the fifty names on my list.”
“There are officers in Roegudok Hall who are still loyal to me,” Threnton said. “Many of them fought in the war that my brother forced them into. They mingled with Mathias’ army. You know how soldiers talk.”
“You know where all forty-seven of them are?” Delmecian pressed.
Threnton nodded eagerly. “I knew where all fifty of them were, until you reduced that number to forty-seven by the point of that fancy sword hanging from your belt.”
Lord Delmecian wrinkled his nose and looked to the Blacktongue. Then, he looked back to Threnton. “When this is done, what will you do?”
Threnton smiled widely. “After my brother’s body is pinned to the wall above my mantle, I will claim my throne and make Roegudok Hall strong again. My brother has failed as a commander, and allowed too many precious dwarves to die.”
“But you offered me the use of your cavedogs,” Delmecian reminded him.
Threnton nodded. “Forty-seven cowards who ran from orcs instead of defending their home will not stand a chance against my warriors. I will give you the information, and command of my cavedog riders. Then, when they have helped you exact justice, they will return to Roegudok Hall and we will close the gates, never to emerge again except under the auspices of war.”
“You would sever the dwarves’ alliance with Mathias?” Delmecian pressed.
Threnton grinned evilly. “That should make it easier if there were any aspiring, ambitious nobles who thought they might like to remove Mathias from power.”
Delmecian’s arrogant smile returned to his face. “Now, you are speaking my language.”
“Excellent,” Threnton said. “Then we are agreed?”
The Blacktongue nodded.
“We have a bargain,” Delmecian said as he stuck his hand out. Threnton shook the nobleman’s hand and then pointed to a door on the far side of the room. A dwarf opened it, revealing a steep stairway leading down.
“Then come into my office. We can plan our assault,” Threnton said as he left the table and made his way for the dimly lit stairs.
The nobleman and the assassin followed.
Threnton led them down into a musty room, where they were greeted by a dozen well-armed dwarves. They saluted Threnton as he walked beyond them and pressed a section of brick wall. It swiveled open to reveal a well-lit tunnel. The dwarf walked the two men through the tunnel and into a chamber shooting off from the left of the tunnel some fifty yards in. In the center of the chamber stood a table with a model of Roegudok Hall sitting upon it. There were a few cots and small desks in the room as well.
Threnton stepped in and waved his arms out to the side as he turned to show off the chamber to his guests. “This has been my home since my exile began,” he said. “It is simple, I know, but it is hidden well and has kept us safe despite all the action happening up there,” he said with a jab of his finger to the ceiling.
The Blacktongue was the first to stop and take notice of the two severed heads set in large jars of amber-colored liquid. “Servant who failed you?” the assassin asked.
Threnton laughed. “Something like that,” he said. He turned back and looked upon his cousins’ heads as he laughed once and shook his head. “They were my cousins, once.”
“What did they do?” Delmecian asked as he moved to stand near the table with the model of Roegudok Hall.
“They betrayed me,” Threnton said evenly. “After my brother exiled me from my own throne, those two false dwarves took it upon themselves to deposit my unconscious body in the forest deep within the mountains to the east. They left me with only the clothes upon my body.”
“What did you do?” the Blacktongue asked.
Threnton shrugged and turned back to Delmecian and the assassin. “I hunted them down and beat them to death with my bare hands,” he said. That last bit wasn’t entirely true. Threnton had woken before his cousins left. They had given him a knife and provisions as well, but that wasn’t the kind of story he needed right now. He needed Delmecian and the Blacktongue to believe he was a very capable warrior in his own right. Anything less might force them to rethink their involvement in this plan, and he knew he needed them.
“Seems a bit cold,” Delmecian said as he turned and pointed to the model. “This is the mountain, yes?”
Threnton moved to it and pointed to the eastern slope. “Near the top, high above the cliffs that make up the bottom third of the entire mountain, there is a balcony. It opens directly into the king’s chamber. That is where you will attack,” Threnton said as he pointed to the Blacktongue. “Are there any others who can go with you? My brother is a tricky fighter.”
The Blacktongue nodded. “I have one brother who will go with me.”
“One?” Delmecian echoed sharply.
“One Blacktongue is worth five dwarves. My brother is worth two Blacktongue assassins, and I am better still.”
“Good, good,” Threnton said as he nodded and moved around to the northern slope. He grabbed Delmecian’s arm and pulled his attention to a small ledge high up on the mountain. “There is a secret door here,” he said. “My father never told me about it, but this is how my brother gained entrance into the mountain. You and I will use this entrance to make the secondary assault.”
“Won’t it be guarded?” Delmecian asked.
Threnton shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. “When I caught my brother, I knew there must have been a secret entrance. He and one of the other traitors had just appeared in the hallway a short way off from my bedroom. The guards said that my brother and the traitor had emerged from a mirror in the wall. After a day of searching for clues, I figured out how to open the mirror to reveal a secret passageway. I followed it through until I found the entrance they used to steal their way inside the mountain. I also found instructions tucked away in an old ledger for how to use the doors.”
Threnton produced a small, pink gem. “This is our key. The first door will open to any prince or king of the mountain, and the gem will get us in the rest of the way.”
“But, again, won’t your brother have guards there if that is how he snuck in?”
Threnton shook his head. “My spies tell me that he has not used the passageway, or sent anyone out to guard the entrance. From all accounts, it seems that he has not revealed the secret door to anyone.”
“So you and I will assault from the secret back door and the Blacktongues will attack from the balcony?”
Threnton nod
ded. “I will take the crown without raising the alarm, and then you will earn your pay, Lord Delmecian.”
Lord Delmecian nodded. “Once I see your brother, I can use my magic to make you appear in his image.”
Threnton grinned wickedly, basking in the beautiful simplicity of his plan.
“Can you do such magic?” the Blacktongue asked.
Delmecian winked and then a mist rose around him. Several seconds later, the mist fell away and the Blacktongue jumped back and instinctively reached for his sword. Where Delmecian had been, a mirror image of this Blacktongue assassin now stood. The large, shaved head was identical to that of the real assassin. The tattoos on his cheeks and chin matched in the minutest detail.
The Blacktongue stepped forward and grabbed Delmecian’s hand. He slid back the sleeve of the cloak and smiled when, instead of Delmecian’s fair white skin, the assassin saw dark tattoos weaving up the man’s arm. Not only that, but there were matching scars, and the very shape of the arm was the same.
Delmecian snapped his fingers and returned to normal in the blink of an eye. “If you continue to hold my hand, I may have to insist you buy me dinner,” he said with a wink.
The Blacktongue nodded and stepped back, releasing the nobleman’s arm.
“How long before we can set out?” Threnton asked, grinning ear to ear.
*****
Hiasyntar’Kulai flew high above the desolate plains of Nahktun Valley. It was a place the dragon had hoped to avoid forever after the Great War of the Gods. The land was brown, cracked, and still held the scars of battle from that terrible war that resulted in the Old Gods sealing off the rainbow bridge to Volganor, the Heaven City. Not only was the land itself dark, but there was a permanent layer of filth and dust in the air that blocked out most of the sunlight.
The golden dragon thought it might have been a place well suited for Gorensikdar, except for the fact that there were creatures here that even the black dragon would not want to provoke. The Father of the Ancients only came here because he knew of no other way to reach Tu’luh. If Tu’luh the Red had been dragged down to hell by Khefir, one of the gods of the underworld, then Hiasyntar’Kulai would have to travel to Gaia’s Tear, the only known conduit that physically connected Terramyr to the planes of hell called Hammenfein.