by Shawn Muller
We emerged from the stairways and made straight for the entrance which was a massive archway carved from a single piece of black granite. A pair of heavily armoured dwarves, halberds held upright, tried to bar us from entering, but a single gesture from the dwarves following us caused them to hesitate and step aside. As one, we marched into the council chambers, our heavy combat armour gleaming under the steady glow of the now familiar crystals.
A roar of voices from within consumed us as the waiting crowd pointed and gestured at our arrival.
The council chambers was a huge auditorium set deep within the mountain. The main floor was set against the back wall, with a large stone slab serving as a table in the middle where the dwarven leaders sat.
The lower rows of seats were reserved for the noblemen and wealthy merchants who bought their way to a better viewing. The middle-class dwarves were sitting in the middle rows, making the bulk of the people seated to see the trial and execution, with the upper, almost nose bleed section of the seats belonging to the lower classed dwarves.
Our entrance was roughly half way up the seats, well within the commoners section. We made our way down the white marble stairs and headed for the audience floor where my men and Ward and his sons were made to kneel before the council of the dwarves.
They were all stripped naked, arms and hands tied behind their backs and heads bowed low. Ward’s dirty, unkempt beard hung wild over his belly and lay on the floor. Hearing the commotion, Shard looked back towards us and flashed a relieved smile.
A guard standing at his side saw his head move and promptly kicked him in the ribs with his iron-toed boots. Shard grimaced in pain as he fell over from the force of the kick. I did not break my stride as we continued to make our way down the stairs, but my eyes never left the eyes of that guard. The dwarven leaders were all on the feet, mouths open and spluttered in disbelieve at our audacity of interrupting them.
“What is the meaning of this?” King Aplite said in a shrill voice.
I tore my gaze away from the guard and stared down at the King. Not saying a word, we made a parade perfect right turn before coming to a stop directly behind the kneeling dwarves, another parade perfect left face and a salute to the council ended with us in a stiff attention stance. I stepped forward walked to where the guard stood over Shard before bending down to whisper in his ear:
“Do that again and I will shove your foot so far up your arse you will lick the bottom of your boot. Understood?” The guard sneered back in contempt but stepped back from Shard.
I stood up straight and approached the council table before stopping with a thud of my armoured boot.
“Commander Bob. I understand that you are apparently not from this world, but I do hope that you have an excellent explanation for this blatant disregard for our laws and customs,” King Aplite said in a cold yet slightly calmer voice.
“Your Highness, council leaders of the dwarves and to the fair people of Dwarfinaan. I do apologise for this intrusion and to the nature of it while you are holding a trial for treason. However I do have an absolutely good explanation for it, and a solution to it as well.”
“Explain yourself then before I throw you and your men into chains and send you back to Prince Marcus with the strongest denunciation of this ill-mannered interruption.”
“If I may, I hereby wish to declare that I will represent Shard, Pebbles, Granular and Sandstone who are soldiers of the Ghost Company and therefore my responsibility, as well as Ward and his sons who were our companions as we battled our way through hordes of goblins to reach the safety of Dwarfinaan.”
“There are no representations allowed. It is a simple trial. They are all guilty of the crime of exposing non-dwarves to our magic, the most heinous of crimes to be committed,” the king countered.
“Yes, that I do understand your highness, as did they when they volunteered to reveal the magic to save our lives,” I countered.
“And one they will pay for. They should have rather died in the caves with you than reveal it.”
“And that does not strike you as heinous by itself? Rather let us die at the hand of goblins, your sworn mortal enemies for centuries, in a dark and cold tunnel?”
“One must make sacrifices in life Commander Bob,” the king said with a steady voice.
“Indeed, one must. Therefore, I will make one more sacrifice to revoke the sentence and punishment,” I said, loud enough that all could hear it clearly.
“And how will you do that? These criminals are guilty, and will be executed as soon as this charade is over.”
“A moment King Aplite, sergeant Fremod of the Southern King Trolls shall explain it. Fremod?” I asked, extending my hand towards him so that he could join me in front of the council.
By now, the entire city was either seated or entering the council chambers to witness what was about to become the single most important trial in all of dwarf history.
“Thank you, Commander Bob, Your Highness, Council members, citizens of Dwarfinaan,” he began. “I wish to start by explaining the reasoning behind the executions. It is written, and well known by all dwarves that any dwarf, which exposes the magical abilities of the dwarven race to non-dwarfs, shall and will be summarily executed to protect perhaps the biggest secret of the dwarven race. Why is it so, that fact is lost in dwarven lore. However, article four, subsection three, paragraph twenty-five, in the Book of Law, makes an allowance for a dwarf to use his or her magical ability to save another person.”
“It does not make reference to non-dwarves,” the king interrupted Fremod.
“That is correct. However, further along in article five, it states that the Treaty of Founders which is the treaty which the trolls, elves, and dwarves founded before the coming of man, written and signed in blood, states that in a dire emergency only, will any and all means available to any of the Founding Races be used to save another member of the Founding Races.”
“That is true, yes,” the king said reluctantly. “But humans and orcs are not part of the Founding Races,” he countered.
By now the assembly was buzzing as the unknown laws were heard for the first time among the ordinary population of the dwarfs.
“The orcs chose not to sign the Treaty, yes, and humans were not seen yet, yes I agree. But one only has to read further down into paragraph thirty-four, where it states, that should any race sign the treaty at any time, they too will fall under the above law.”
“Your point troll?” King Aplite asked dryly.
“You may have forgotten that both the orcs and the humans are now part of the Treaty, and thereby protected under the law. Therefore, all the prisoners are well within the Law and thus innocent,” Fremod concluded.
The crowded council chambers were suddenly in a roar as the dwarven masses reacted to this.
“Order! Order or I will have this assembly cleared out!” King Aplite shouted.
Slowly, quiet returned to the chambers as the dwarves settled down. King Aplite looked red-faced as he glared over the commoners. His gaze had settled on us before he spoke.
“You are correct Fremod. However, you have overlooked one simple fact that the ogres are not part of the Treaty. The prisoners are therefore still guilty and will be executed,” King Aplite said smugly.
“Come on!” I shouted before Fremod could say anything. He gestured to me to calm down before he continued to speak.
“A most regrettable statement your highness, I was hoping that this would be avoided,” Fremod said shaking his head.
“What is that troll?” King Aplite said with arrogance.
“Article five, paragraph thirty-five, subsection two through to six states that any non-member of the Treaty, may, by rights of possession, lay claim to any member of the Treaty if successfully gained through the right of arms. In other words, if Veggie, the ogre so wishes, he may claim the prisoners as slaves if won through a duel to the death,” King Aplite paled at that but held his composure.
“Do you so wish Veggie,
to claim these dwarves as your own?” Fremod asked, turning to the ogre.
The ogre stepped forward, looking almost human in his armour.
“As per my right, as written within the Laws of the Treaty, and heard by all present, I will lay claim to the dwarves to do as I see fit,” he said in a booming voice.
“You are well versed in our lore and history, troll,” King Aplite said, collecting his composure.
“I am but a humble student of the histories of the people of Curixeus,” Fremod said with a small nod of his head.
“Very well, I accept your challenge, and nominate myself to defend the Rule of Law,” the dwarves within the assembly gasped at the announcement.
“Your highness, if I may,” a nobleman sitting at the council table said as he stood. “You risk much by this duel.”
“I know the risks involved Diamond,” King Aplite sneered at the nobleman.
Nobleman Diamond bristled at the insult and made to reach for his war axe on his back, but the other councilmen at his side dragged him back into his chair, trying to sooth him.
“Step forward, ogre, if you truly are even an ogre, you look very humanlike,” King Aplite spoke with heavy sarcasm.
“I am what I am. We shall dual here then?” Veggie asked.
“Correct, when you are ready,” the king gestured to the middle of the chamber floor as he unslung his double headed war axe from his thigh.
Veggie stood there, looking the king up and down not doing much.
“I have been hunting for you far and wide, klpsxichesxx,” Veggie said with a series of clicks and hisses at the end. “You have stained the ogre lines for long enough. You are an abomination!”
“Me, the abomination! Says the one who has strayed from the true path!” King Aplite roared back, in a much deeper voice than earlier.
Veggie roared back, shimmering in the light as he transformed himself from the human shape into his true ogre form. Arms outstretched, head tilted back, he roared a challenge to the king which reverberated off the walls and roof of the council chambers.
The dwarves who had packed into the chambers panicked at the sight of Veggie and began to flee out the rooms just as King Aplite himself, began to waver and bulge in places. His skin seemed to peel off from the head and down his body in pieces, the fine chainmail ripping under an unseen strain.
A ghastly head broke out from the king’s skull, dripping blood and brains all over the tiles. Four massive arms tore themselves loose as a second ogre emerged from the king’s body.
Veggie threw himself at the second ogre, as we made for prisoners to protect them from the two combatants. The dwarves continued to stream out the council rooms while soldiers battled against the flow of panicking dwarves to enter. The councilmen had overturned the central table and had all armed themselves while they watched the brawl. It was over almost as quick as it had begun.
Watching two shape shifting beings fight to the death was an experience I would never forget. Each ogre changed their body on the fly. The false king tried to stab Veggie with its claws while Veggie simply opened his body for the hand and arm to go through without any damage.
Jaws snapped at empty air as limbs were changed into different shapes to avoid the rows of sharp needle-like teeth. Somehow, Veggie lost an arm, torn off just above the elbow. Veggie managed to pin the other ogre to the floor, face down, holding down an arm with his own.
The fourth arm was impaled by Veggie’s tale, pinning it against the ogre’s side. The ogre tried to twist out of the pin, moving its head from side to side to try and bite Veggie. Veggie simply held on tighter, squeezing the torso with his legs, driving the air out of its lungs.
Veggie opened his toad-like mouth so wide that he could take the entire back of the ogre’s head into his mouth. A sickening crunch cracked across the rooms and the ogre’s body convulsed and jerked while Veggie spat out bone and brain before biting down on the exposed neck of the false king. The convulsions stopped, and Veggie let go of his grip and slowly stood up.
He stumbled back from exhaustion as we rushed to his side to help him. He looked down at his severed lower left arm before clamping it with his right hand. A faint glow seeped through his fingers, and when he let go, the bleeding had stopped, leaving an angry red scar with dried black blood on it.
He sat down heavily, breathing just as heavily before shimmering once again into the human form we were accustomed to, minus a left arm. The last of the civilians had left the chambers with the soldiers running down the stairs to surround us, axes and spears at the ready. The surviving council slowly approached us, giving the dead ogre a wide berth.
“You ok?” I asked, handing Veggie a cloth to wipe the sweat from his brow.
“Oh, my, God! That was incredible!” Shouted Max.
Fremod, shaking to his core at having to facing two ogres, handed Veggie a goblet of wine he had collected from the overturned table. Accepting it gratefully, Veggie gulped it down in one go.
“Sorry about your arm, though,” I said.
“It is nothing, Commander Bob. Even now, I feel a new arm begin to grow within me,” he said visibly tired.
“Excuse me. Commander Bob, a word if you may?” It was the councilman who stood up against the former king.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Diamond, now King Diamond of Dwarfinaan. I wish to thank you and your men for the great service you have done for us today,” King Diamond said, nodding his head in our direction.
“We suspected that there was something wrong with Aplite. But we could never pinpoint it exactly, but this, to be possessed by an ogre!” King Diamond said waving his arms at the ogre’s corpse.
“Well, King Diamond. Firstly congratulations on your new position, secondly, we did not know about Aplite at all. I was just trying to save my soldiers and innocent men,” I explained.
“And we, the council fully understand that. The law dictating the need to hide our magic is old and outdated. It has been discussed to abolish it, but Aplite would not allow the change. So, my first order as king of the dwarves is to repeal the law of hiding our magic from non-dwarves. And my second decree is to release the prisoners. You are free to go,” King Diamond said to the untied dwarves.
Relief flooded us as we gathered around the dwarves, whom all thanked Veggie and us, especially for their lives. Clothes were brought for them to dress into while the chambers were cleaned of the fight.
“So, Commander Bob. The previous king had kept us from seeing you and speaking to you or your men. What has brought you to our caves?” King Diamond asked me as the council chambers began to fill once more.
I quickly told of our dreams that we all shared, with the message that we were to seek help from the dwarves.
“It seems we needed your help more than you needed ours,” King Diamond said to us as nervous laughs echoed through the chambers.
“Well your highness, we seem to have the help of Veggie, who has offered to join us as well as Ward and his sons.”
“Good, good. Both will be an excellent addition I think. Tell me Commander. What do you know of griffins?”
***
The massive fleet was rolling on the gentle swell as it waited to enter the harbour to unload its precious cargo. Grey clouds hung low, threatening to rain yet none appeared. Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III stood at the stern of the lead ship, watching as a gangplank was thumped down for the troops to disgorge onto the pier.
The first of the troop transports were already heading back out to sea, making space for the next transport to take its place. The emperor’s ship gently nudged the wharf, and the gangplank lowered.
A troop of heavy cyclops infantry headed down, closely followed by a pack of werewolves and a small cadre of faery sorcerers. Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III followed closely, stopping at the foot of the gangplank to take the first look at the city he was about to conquer.
Though none opposed him, he knew this would be a difficult campaign. Death-on-Wings and Efficame stood wait
ing nervously while Princess Wendyaline stood nearby, furious at the invasion of her realm. Both the faery and the cyclops diplomat bowed low at the approaching emperor, only rising when he greeted them.
“So, this is Curixeus. Not much to behold so far,” he said in disgust at the filth which surrounded the harbour front.
“Your imperial worship, we are ever grateful to be within your presence. Unfortunately, all harbours are as filthy as this one,” a smooth-talking Death-on-Wings spoke.
“Yes, I suppose. I trust that the preparations have been made?” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III asked his diplomat.
“Indeed, they have been. I have instructed the commanders where they can barrack the men. Supplies have been secured, and all is ready for your command now,” Efficame told his emperor.
“Excellent. Now, show me the palace, I tire of standing in filth,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said looking around once more.
He looked at the silently fuming Princess Wendyaline, before turning to Efficame once again.