by Alon Shalev
“When you say you’ll be the first to swing the axe,” Seanchai said, “you mean in my defense?”
“Aye. Dwarves do not easily accept guests, even other dwarves. But when they do, they’ll defend them with their lives. It is a honor system, dwarf values.”
“Thank you,” Seanchai said to Ballendir. “I appreciate your trust and your willingness to ensure my safety.”
“Safety?” Ballendir’s face was full of surprise. “Yeh not safe. All I have ensured is that neither am I.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like the smartest of moves.” Seanchai couldn’t help laughing.
“I already told yeh,” Ballendir smiled. “Among mah clan, I’m considered quite the strategic thinker.”
TWENTY
As General Tarlach led his army out of the forest, he smiled to himself at the sight of a second company from the west waiting down in the valley before them. Though all soldiers wore the red and black armor of the empire, it was an odd complement of troops.
Six sixers of pictorians brought up the rear. They were loyal and solitary, but brutal. Tarlach corrected himself mentally: it wasn’t so much that they were solitary, but that everyone else kept their distance.
In the middle was a mass of dwarves. Tarlach had requested at least three hundred, and he could make out six different regimental banners. If there were indeed the normal sixty soldiers in each regiment, then there were considerably more than he had requested.
He was impressed. Though the idea of training dwarves for the army was his, the credit for creating the program fell to General Shiftan, whose garrison was nearer dwarf populations and further from the eyes of others in the Empire.
Leading the dwarves and pictorians were two battalions of men, and then General Shiftan’s command. Shiftan and Tarlach went back as far as the academy. They were part of an elite group of officers who pushed their way through the army’s ranks. In their younger days, they had been a brotherhood led by Prince Shindell, the Emperor’s brother, more famous for their partying than their feats in battle. But that had soon changed.
After Prince Shindell’s death, the group had unofficially dispersed, but the bond was always there, and always strong. Tarlach spurred his horse ahead, excited to see his friend and anxious for news from home.
But he would have to wait for the latter. Shiftan came forward with six guards and his administrator. Bortand and six of his own guard were just as surely right behind Tarlach.
“Well met, General Tarlach,” Shiftan said, saluting and smiling.
“Well met indeed, my friend,” Tarlach replied, returning the salute. “You’ve brought a fine party with you.”
“We are at your service. I think we’re glad to leave the garrison, are we not, men?”
Heads nodded and murmured agreement.
“We’re a couple of hours away from where my scouts have established a base camp. We shall talk there.”
“Are we entering the mountains today?” Shiftan asked.
“No,” Tarlach replied. “We’ll camp at their base, spend tomorrow resting and strategizing, and attack the day after.”
“Is there a danger of attack if we are that close and concede height to our enemies?”
“No. My scouts have established a perimeter on the first high ridge. But if you would like your scouts to go ahead, one of mine can take them.”
“Your scouts are all rangers, no?”
“They are.” Tarlach gestured to one sitting on a horse just behind his guards.
General Shiftan and the ranger nodded to each other. “If they’re rangers, then I’m at ease. Lead on with your forces, General. May I suggest we dine tonight with our officers and catch up? My cooks have fresh meat with them and make the leanest cuts. There is much for us to discuss.”
General Tarlach nodded. “I look forward to it. Until tonight, then.”
The keenest observer might have wondered at the single spasm in Tarlach’s left hand, but it was voluntary, and its intention understood only by his old friend: Leanest cut. Message received.
General Tarlach knew the guard on the evening sentry shift. He was an experienced and competent soldier, having faced the enemies of the empire without fear. He would probably prefer to face them again rather than the two figures that emerged out of the darkness and walked toward him.
The soldier snapped to attention. “General Tarlach, sir.” He saluted and, seeing the other’s insignia, said, “General . . . ?”
“This is General Shiftan,” Tarlach said.
The soldier saluted again. “General Shiftan, sir. My cousin served with you until last year.”
“He was with me in the Korfican campaign?” Shiftan inquired cordially.
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied, and Tarlach wasn’t the only one impressed.
“Is he . . . ?”
“He was wounded, sir, and is back in Galbrieth. His wife just gave birth, sir.”
“What is his name?” General Shiftan asked, now genuinely interested.
“Jiftmore, sir. Anderman Jiftmore.”
“Please send him my congratulations. Is he able to work?”
“Yes, sir. He can’t follow his father into blacksmithing because of the shoulder wound, sir, but he has service in a good family’s house. And his army pension helps, sir.”
“Good man,” the general replied. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No, sir. But my shift is over soon. My friends will keep food for me.”
“Go eat now,” General Tarlach interceded. “You are relieved. Tell the next guard to stay in the mess tent. He will be sent for.”
“Relieved, sir?” The man looked perplexed, no doubt wondering if this was a test.
“Do you doubt the ability of two of the Emperor’s generals to fulfill your guard duty?” General Tarlach raised an eyebrow.
The man gulped, and Tarlach tried not to laugh. “Run along, man. There is roast duck, and it is better hot.”
The man half saluted, half thanked him, and scampered away.
Shiftan sighed. “Do you remember the first days of the academy? We were scared, enthusiastic, and so arrogant. When did we become so intimidating, my friend?”
“When the stakes rose,” Tarlach said, his eyes following the soldier’s trail. “How was your leave in the capital? How are your wife and daughters? They must be fine, young women already.”
“Indeed. I have doubled the guard around them. I would slaughter every young man in the capital if I could.”
They both laughed. Shiftan glanced around and lowered his voice.
“I met with him. He understands. I know he visits with your father. That is a good sign, no?”
Tarlach nodded. “What are the rumors at the club?”
“That it would be wise if you brought this episode to an end, and quickly.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you worried about what is happening here?” Shiftan asked, concerned.
Tarlach didn’t answer and instead took a swig from the flask he carried.
“What is it, Tarlach? I have seen you face hordes of savages, battalions of well-trained soldiers. What do you fear?”
“I fear nothing,” Tarlach barked, and then stopped, surprised at his own venom. “Excuse me.”
“Is it the Emperor’s nephew? You don’t have to worry. Let me handle him for you, old friend.”
“Thank you, I’d prefer you did when the time comes. But it’s not him.”
“The elf company? They are youngsters, I hear.”
Tarlach shook his head. “Do you remember the stories of the white-haired ones?”
“Yes. I used to beg my father to tell me stories of them. Great servants of the ancient Emperors who went on unbelievable quests and performed acts of heroism.”
He laughed, momentarily lost in his childhood memories. Then he turned inquisitively when he realized there was a point to Tarlach’s question.
“What is it, my friend?”
“The leader of this group
is a white-haired one.”
“What? Those were tales for children.” Shiftan shrugged.
“No. They were memories, preserved through the passage of stories from generation to generation.”
“You are saying this boy–”
“Elf,” Tarlach corrected.
“You are saying that this young elf is a Wycaan Master?”
“Not a Master yet. His training was interrupted. He must not be allowed to become a Master. This is why the Emperor is on my back.” He turned to face his friend. “This Wycaan elfling has the potential to bring down the empire.”
“Does he know that?” Shiftan frowned.
“I hope not. And he must never be allowed to explore the full extent of his power.”
TWENTY ONE
Sellia crouched on a ledge, looking down at the army camp. Next to her, Shayth swore under his breath. She had wanted to come and estimate how many soldiers were down on the plains and, though the blow to her head had healed, the group had insisted someone go with her. She chose Shayth because of his stealth and silence.
She sighed. When she had first broached the idea that they should not stay by the lake, where they would be vulnerable to attack, she had seen Ilana’s pained expression and was concerned that she wouldn’t be heeded. But while she had been unconscious from the ranger attack, the others had apparently had a similar conversation. Tomorrow, they would move on. She turned to leave, but stopped when she heard Shayth gasp. He was still staring at the approaching army.
“What is it?” she asked.
“That’s a lot of soldiers for a few . . .” his voice trailed off as he squinted into the distance. “Sellia, elves have better vision than humans, right?”
“Sure,” she replied.
He pointed. “Can you make out the pictorians at the back on the right?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Why?”
“And you see the humans in front near the banners?”
“Sure.”
“There is a group between them. I was thinking how small they look compared to the pictorians, but now that I–”
“Dwarves!” she exclaimed. “They’re dwarves.”
“I wasn’t aware that dwarves served in the Emperor’s armies,” Shayth said grimly. “I wonder if they have been trained secretly. Specifically.”
They stared at each other.
“This changes everything,” Sellia whispered. “We need to get back to the others.”
“Why does this change everything?” Maugwen asked.
“We thought they were after us,” Rhoddan replied, despondent. “We thought we could lead them away from here, away from Seanchai.”
“And?”
“They haven’t come for us,” Ilana answered. “They’ve come for the dwarves. We’ve led them here. If the Emperor’s dwarves can breach the defenses, Ballendir’s people will be trapped. And so will . . .”
“What can we do?” Maugwen asked, her face suddenly pale.
“I-I don’t know,” Ilana answered.
“I can lead you all out of here,” Jermona said. “Perhaps they will follow.”
No one answered.
“You must trust me,” he said louder. “I am a ranger.”
Shayth whirled round and grabbed his collar, pulling him close so their noses were almost touching. “Whatever noble values you think your people hold, you’re nothing more than highly-skilled and well-paid mercenaries.”
“We kill nobody,” Jermona protested. “They just proved that with Sellia.”
“You don’t shoot the arrow or stab with the sword, but you help an evil dictator massacre and oppress an entire land. And you do it for money.”
Jermona’s voice broke as he protested. “The Emperor is–”
“–is a murderer. He murdered his own brother and sister-in-law.”
“They were pr–”
“They were my parents,” Shayth’s face flushed red and his voice increased in ferocity, freezing everyone in place. “Who’s been paying you and your people for your services?”
“G-general Tarlach. He is a–”
“He is the man who betrayed me, who stood by while my parents – one of them his best friend – were murdered. And he continues to serve that very same murderer.” Shayth tightened his grip on Jermona’s shirt. “What were you going to tell me about him?”
The young ranger just stood there, hushed and helpless. It was Rhoddan who put a firm hand on Shayth’s arm. Shayth glared at him, but Rhoddan didn’t waiver.
“It’s getting dark,” Rhoddan murmured to Shayth. “Would you please take the first shift?”
Shayth slowly let go of Jermona, who slumped down on the rock behind him. Then Shayth picked up his bow and stalked off.
“We rise early,” Rhoddan said. “Everyone either pack up or help cook these rabbits that Sellia caught. It might be the last hot meal for a while.”
He took his knife out and went to the fire pit. Sellia joined him. She was smiling wryly.
“That was impressive,” she said.
“What was?” Rhoddan had an embarrassing habit of blushing whenever Sellia spoke to him. He hoped the growing darkness concealed it this time.
“I’m not sure anyone else could stare him down.”
“Ilana has,” he said. “She grew close to him when they came to rescue me in Galbrieth. He has been through a lot – too much for someone who has not seen out two decades.”
“You feel close to him, too, I think.”
“I have fought alongside him. I would happily die alongside him.”
Sellia laughed. “Ever the warrior, Rhoddan. Ever the warrior.”
“AAAATAAACK!” The scream from Shayth was accompanied by the cries of men falling.
Ilana kicked out the fire and then ran towards the attack. Sellia grabbed her bow and threw her quiver over her shoulders, then tied Jermona’s hands and feet.
“I can help,” he protested.
“No, you can’t.” She glared at him before turning to Maugwen, who stood rigid with fear. She gave the girl a small, sharp knife from her boot. “Guard him. If he tries to speak, stuff something in his mouth. If he tries to escape, kill him.”
Maugwen’s eyes widened.
“Sellia,” Jermona said. “If this is the advance, then they might have come for me.”
“To kill you, or to rescue you?”
Good question, he thought.
Sellia left them and joined Rhoddan in his battle with two soldiers. She noched an arrow and shot the one closest through the neck. The other turned toward her, giving Rhoddan the opportunity to parry the soldier’s swing and stab him under the breastplate. Sellia moved on and landed arrows in the pair Ilana was fending off.
A horn blew, and the two or three soldiers still standing scurried to retreat. Shayth roared and charged, but Ilana cried out to him.
“Stop, Shayth! You don’t know what’s there.”
Rhoddan grabbed him as he passed, and Sellia drew her bow at the last retreating soldier. She hit him, but he managed to keep running. She cursed. Ilana reached them.
“That was feeble,” she said.
“No,” Shayth panted, his adrenaline still racing. “They know how many we are. They know that Seanchai and the dwarves have gone, and maybe even that Jermona is still alive, if they even care. I think they achieved their goals.”
“Let’s get some sleep,” Rhoddan said. “We’ll double the guard and move out before dawn.”
“No,” said a deep voice from behind. “I don’t think yeh will.”
They all spun, reaching for their weapons. Before them stood three dwarves, stout and covered with armor, their axes still sheathed.
“We’re from Ballendir’s clan and been sent to take yeh to a safer place,” one said. “Our clan council thought we should move yeh before the advance arrived. I regret that we showed up late to the party.”
TWENTY TWO
Seanchai slept deeply, so when Ballendir came to wake him just an hour or so
into his slumber, he was hard-pressed to rise. The little cave was barely large enough for the straw bedding. He sat up, and Ballendir crouched next to him. He glanced back at the guards.
“Move to the other side there, lads. Yeh can still see him, but I must council the Wycaan in private.”
The guards obliged without a word, and Ballendir turned so that his back was to them.
“This isn’t going to be easy, mah friend. I have broken the First Decree, an iron law by bringing yeh here. I have also given up the secrecy that we have held here for decades. Neither is appreciated.”
He shifted his weight into a more comfortable crouch.
“Dwarves put great value in history and tradition. We don’t change fast, and we don’t appreciate young dwarves with new ideas.”
“Is that also your claim to fame?” Seanchai asked, smiling.
Ballendir sidestepped this remark, too focused to veer off track. “This is about yeh learning fast how dwarves think. They aren’t happy with yeh and what yeh’ve done, and so far, yeh haven’t addressed them.
“Take it slow, Seanchai, and don’t lose yeh temper. But yeh must stand firm. Do yeh know what yeh want from us?”
“Your allegiance. If I can recruit the free elves and the humans, I want the dwarves to stand with us.”
“What will we get for that? Why should we risk our lives?”
“To be free. To be able to live above ground if you want, and to trade freely.”
Ballendir frowned. “We’re not in the same position as the elves. Most of our people are free. Yeh’ll need to refine this point.”
A shuffle outside signaled that they had company. Ballendir straightened up. Seanchai stood, as well, and promptly banged his head on the low ceiling.
“Ouch!”
The others laughed good-naturedly.
“Ballendir has been coaching yeh?” asked the dwarf who now stood before them.
Seanchai glanced at his friend and then back to the other dwarf. “Yes, he has, and I value his guidance.”