‘We took out the knight first, because he was the biggest threat. The dwarf heard the commotion and put up a fight. She stabbed Orvid… He didn’t make it.’
Hargonnas spat, something that only humans and dwarves did, and elves abhorred, but this particular foul habit was the only suitable way to express his disgust with these two. ‘Damn Orvid! May he rot eternally. So you two wretches fled and did not wait for the boy to return?’
Togram’s dark eyes flashed in the gloom of the house. ‘We thought the knight was dead, but he managed to go outside and cast a distress signal. We had to flee, otherwise the City Watch and the knights would have caught us.’
Hargonnas made a face of pure exasperation. ‘I’ve been getting nothing but failure after failure from you, Togram.’
‘That makes two of us then,’ Togram answered with gritted teeth.
‘What do you mean?’ Hargonnas demanded, rising so fast from his stool that it toppled over.
‘I meant that if you hadn’t botched your job in the first place,’ the dwarf retorted, ‘then we wouldn’t need to be chasing this cursed boy at all, cleaning up after your blunder.’
‘How dare you!’ the elf growled, his hands taking on a deadly glow.
Jarvis, who was hiding behind a wooden beam, emerged to step between the elf and Togram, who had drawn his sword halfway from its sheath.
‘Captain, I-I mean Hargonnas,’ Jarvis said, correcting himself on the elf’s demotion. ‘He didn’t mean it. He was distraught over the loss of our friend.’
‘Silence!’ screamed the elf, raising his hand to invoke magic.
A cloud formed around Jarvis and erupted into a fountain of ruby-coloured flame. The air sizzled and crackled around him, searing his flesh as he screamed. The wooden beams groaned under the intense heat. The dwarf stopped screaming, and the fire spell stopped, leaving a charred, blackened husk that fell to the floor with a thud.
The elf flashed a wicked smile and raised his hand to cast another glyph. ‘Farewell, Togram. I detested working with you from the very beginning.’
But Togram was no longer there.
Using the diversion of his comrade’s death, Togram rushed out of the decrepit house as fast as his short dwarven legs would carry him, knocking over potions, spell books, and an ink jar in his wake.
‘Curses!’ Hargonnas swore.
He followed in pursuit, but the dwarf was already out the front door and in the street, shoving pedestrians aside in his effort to escape. Several turned and shouted angry threats, and a bar wench, who was flung into a puddle, bellowed several derogatory slurs aimed at dwarves. But such shenanigans around the Pinch and Tickle were common, and everyone soon returned to their daily business, except the bar wench, whose skimpy dress was muddied; she demanded the dwarf’s head.
Hargonnas hastened in pursuit, but quickly gave up. The short dwarf had disappeared into the crowd of tall humans, and all he could do was yell – to no effect. The only response he got was from a drunken vagrant who shouted back that some people were trying to sleep, and the bar wench who wanted someone to buy her a new outfit.
Without a word, Hargonnas returned to the house. It didn’t matter if Togram escaped, he supposed. The dwarf would not report him for murder, especially after the incident at the Avenal Manor. The elf had more important things on his mind than a disobedient dwarf.
‘If I want to leave this accursed city and bloody house,’ Hargonnas said to himself, ‘then I’ll have to get the boy myself.’
He walked back into the house where the smell of cooked meat permeated the air. First, he had to dispose of the body. A wicked grin slowly crept across his face. He knew just the right spell to use.
‘You may have been useless in life,’ he said to the blackened lump on the floor as he channelled currents of purple light into it, ‘but you may be of use to me in death.’
* * *
On the same morning that Jarvis faced his fiery fate in Hargonnas’s house, Stella was buried in the Passage to Thelos, a tomb located in the further depths of Dwarfside. A hammer, the symbol of Thelos, was placed on her grave, as was customary among the dwarves, and the priest of Thelos read the final rites and offered his condolences, stating that Stella would now return to become one with the stone. Kairos and Althea were at the ceremony, but the majority of those who attended were dwarves. Jace Dubose was among them; he did not say anything until after the ceremony, only glared. Most of Stella’s family had died prior to her arrival at Vadost, and she did not befriend many humans during her tenure at the Avenal Manor. In turn, the few humans who knew her felt uncomfortable attending a funeral ceremony in an underground cavern. A despatch had been sent to Lord Galen Avenal, but there was no response, yet.
When the attendees filed out of the tomb and onto the streets, Mr. Dubose rounded on Kairos.
‘WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?’ he thundered, his voice ringing out through Dwarfside.
Several dwarfs peered up from their work to stare, as Mr. Dubose marched towards Kairos, his hair and beard looking wild like an enraged lion.
‘Let me explain,’ Kairos said. He told the dwarf about Sir Hugo escorting them to the Avenal Manor because of Togram’s recent attack near Valour Keep, and how the dwarf attacked again, but they survived by sneaking out for the Yule festival.
‘Sneaking out? You prowled the streets of Vadost? Togram and his goons were trying to kill you, and you thought it would be a good idea to traipse around the city?’ Mr. Dubose screamed. ‘You were supposed to have come straight here yesterday!’
‘I know, but I was ordered to stay near Sir Hugo!’ Kairos hollered back. ‘If I had left, then Althea would have been in the house when Togram…’
‘It’s true,’ Althea said, coming to Kairos’s defence. Though her face was red and swollen from the tears, she could not bear to see Kairos punished on her behalf.
‘No, you don’t know,’ the dwarf yelled, ignoring her. ‘You should have sent a message to me. Then I would have come over, and if Togram still came, I would have cut the bastard’s head off and pissed on his corpse!’
‘He might have killed you, too,’ Kairos said.
‘Bah! That coward could never best me – to think that I even gave him work here!’
‘He had help,’ Althea said. ‘Togram was working for Malus. Besides, why isn’t my father here to help?’
Silence fell over the room.
Finally, Mr. Dubose said, ‘You should have told me about all of this. That way I could have done something! I didn’t know any of this was going on. You both were careless and the only reason you’re alive now is because of pure, dumb luck.’ The dwarf turned towards Althea. ‘And leave your father out of this, lass. He is doing what he can. He cannot be everywhere at once, and even he could not have anticipated this from Malus.’
Kairos suddenly realised why Mr. Dubose was angry, so he apologised, explained that he had become complacent in the face of danger, and outlined all the reasons why his actions were stupid.
‘Okay, okay, I get it.’ The dwarf interrupted Kairos’s tirade of self-deprecation. ‘You think with your prick more than your head. It’s not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.’ He motioned Kairos over. The boy cautiously approached, expecting a hard cuff to the face. To his surprise, the dwarf grabbed him and hugged him fiercely. Then he motioned Althea over and did the same. ‘You bloody idiots,’ he said. ‘Losing Stella was too much. I don’t want to lose both of you, too. I don’t know how I could face Galen if something else happened. You can stay at my workshop until Yule is over. I’ll let the others know about Togram. He won’t show his face around here again.’ Mr. Dubose released Kairos and Althea from the hug – much to their joint relief as they drew in large breaths.
They made their way back to Mr. Dubose’s workshop. Once inside, the dwarf cleared space for Althea in the spare room. Once he was done, Althea thanked him, went into the room without another word, and shut the door behind her. Kairos stood by, waiting a
nxiously. He never had seen Althea so upset before and was unsure of what to do.
‘Leave her be, lad,’ Mr. Dubose said, reaching into a leather purse he wore on his belt. ‘Take these. I need you to go into Alberich’s grocer and bring back some fire potatoes, goat blood sausages, and whatever else you think you can eat.’ The dwarf fished out several silver coins and tossed them to Kairos.
Kairos departed. Of all places to be after Stella’s death, he was relieved to be back in Mr. Dubose’s workshop. The bustle of the workshops and the sound of hammers ringing through the streets brought back a profound sense of nostalgia he did not know he had. Even as he walked through the streets, several dwarves briefly stopped their work to yell out a cheerful greeting to him. Some displayed eagerness for conversation, but Kairos did not feel like talking to anyone today. Not now. He was more concerned about Althea. He rushed to Alberich’s and bought what he needed and returned.
The door to the spare room was still shut.
‘How is Althea doing?’
Mr. Dubose turned from the forge. ‘She is well enough, considering.’ Then, after a pause, ‘Stella was the closest thing she had to a mother. Her real mother died and the Knighthood keeps her father away.’
Those words sent a pang through Kairos. He knew what it was like to lose family, and the despair of losing his own was still raw. He had seen how close Althea was to Stella, and his heart ached to think of the pain she must be suffering.
Mr. Dubose approached and rested a hand on Kairos’s shoulder. ‘So you care for her, I see. It’s good to feel the pain of others. Warriors who do not learn compassion end up becoming cold-blooded killers.’
Kairos suddenly realised there were tears streaming down his face. He did not feel like a good person. The Einar lived to fight, to kill others. Malus’s army seemed no different. There seemed to be little good in this world. He had come to this foreign land, to Ordonia, only to find a place filled with more evil, death, and sadness than he could ever have imagined.
And now his presence, his association with Althea, had caused Stella’s death. Althea had saved his life at the temple, prevented Togram from cutting him down. And he had repaid her kindness with Stella’s death. The gods had truly cursed him. Everyone who showed him benevolence had either died or suffered dreadful consequences.
The images of Farina’s scalped corpse and Stella’s mutilated body flashed in his mind. The blood. The gore.
If he had never come to this land, they would both be alive now. Gulliver would still be unharmed at the lighthouse, and Sir Hugo would be enjoying Yule with his family. Kairos wondered if everyone would have been better off if he were dead. He wished he had fallen in battle, next to his brother.
‘Do not blame yourself, lad.’ Mr. Dubose spoke gruffly, but his look of concern hinted that he understood what was troubling Kairos. ‘We dwarves are said to have come from the stone when Thelos breathed life into us. Stella merely returned to the stone. Althea, nor anyone else, holds her death against you.’
Kairos said nothing. He turned away and faced the forge fire, the tears running unchecked down his face.
* * *
Kairos woke to the sound of the hammers pounding throughout Dwarfside. Being inside the mountain, he could not tell if it was dawn or dusk, but he assumed it was the former. Dwarves often put away their tools at dusk and headed for the taverns – or home, for the ones who had strict wives.
He lay on his cot and noticed the lack of snoring in the room. Mr. Dubose was already up. It was surprisingly quieter than usual in the workshop, as the dwarf was wont to start the forge early. He heard the sound of voices in the other room. The dwarf’s voice reverberated off the walls, but Kairos had to listen carefully to discern the other.
It belonged to Althea. She was up and out of her room, picking at the poached eggs and scones Mr. Dubose had made. That was a good sign, Kairos thought as he sat down and joined them.
Mr. Dubose took notice of him. ‘By Thelos’s beard, do you ever comb your hair, boy? It looks like two crows landed on your head and started rutting!’
Kairos smiled. He had forgotten what it was like to live with the dwarf’s daily insults.
‘I could say the same about your beard,’ Kairos said, poking at it. ‘It looks like a vulture’s nest.’
‘Don’t touch my beard, boy!’
Althea giggled. Another good sign.
After breakfast, Mr. Dubose thrust a few silver coins into Kairos’s hand and told him to treat Althea to some food. ‘Go on. I have work to do.’
‘I can help,’ Kairos offered.
‘You obviously cannot take a hint, can you?’ Mr. Dubose growled. ‘Now stay in Dwarfside. It should be safe in here. Unlike the rest of Vadost, there’s only one way in and out of here, and we monitor that carefully.’
Kairos finally took the hint and walked with Althea. They found a stone bench next to the bakery where it was warm, and the aroma of bread and pastries was pleasant. Althea did not say anything. Her sad expression caused guilt to tear at his conscious.
Kairos was silent for a moment, before deciding to speak. ‘I’m sorry.’
Althea looked up, startled. ‘For what?’
‘Togram was after me. If I hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t have got involved, and he wouldn’t have tracked us back to your house. I put you in danger and cost Stella her life.’
Althea shook her head. ‘Togram is an evil man. It’s not your fault.’ She paused, and looked up in thought. ‘I do wonder why he was going to such great lengths to bring about your death. Why does he want you dead so badly?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kairos. ‘But when I find him, I’ll kill him.’
Althea squirmed uneasily. ‘You can kill so easily?’
Kairos stared straight into her innocent, blue eyes. He remembered stabbing the elf in the neck to protect Farina. ‘Yes,’ he answered in a steady voice. ‘I can and I will.’ He saw that his words had shaken Althea, and he was immediately sorry for causing her more distress. But it was the truth, and he would not lie to her. Life was harsh, and vengeance was the Einar way. He would not forgive his enemies like Zemus’s followers did.
‘Why do you want to kill?’ Althea finally asked, her voice so low that Kairos had to lean in close to hear. ‘That’s an odd thing to say. I’ve never heard anyone talk like that.’
Kairos turned towards her. He was not surprised at the question, though it would have been an odd question in Logres. It was ironic how he was not violent enough to be an Einar, but he was too violent to be an Ordonian. ‘To protect myself and those I care about.’ He clenched his fists, seeing the images of Hargonnas and Togram in his mind. ‘There are those who deserve death. If you could kill the dwarves…’ He caught himself, not wanting to say the words that would cause more agony. But Kairos felt compelled to get his point across to her. ‘If you could kill the dwarves who killed Stella,’ he continued, ‘wouldn’t you do it?’
Althea sat in silence for a long time, pondering his words. She remembered the first time the motherly dwarf had come to the house, and how poorly Althea had treated her then. She had taken out her frustrations of losing her mother on Stella, but the dwarf persisted in caring for her, comforting her when the other children teased her, or when her father went away for a very long time. Althea remembered the dwarf’s jokes, the times they cooked together, shopped together. Stella was always around to soothe the turmoil in Althea’s mind, and now she was gone. She could not stop the tears now as they flowed freely down her cheeks.
Finally, Althea turned her tear-streaked face towards Kairos. ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she said with conviction. ‘I don’t want more death. Killing Togram won’t bring her back.’
‘But killing him will prevent more murders,’ Kairos returned.
For a long time, Althea only stared back at him. ‘That’s where we differ, Kairos. I don’t want to kill anyone.’
Althea stood up quickly, and before Kairos had a chance to reply, she walked away towa
rds Mr. Dubose’s workshop, leaving him sitting alone on the stone bench.
* * *
The week of Yule had ended. Under the impatient stares of four Mana Knights stationed outside the workshop, Mr. Dubose packed some provisions into a rucksack for Kairos and Althea’s journey back to Valour Keep. After what had happened to Sir Hugo, the Knighthood was taking no chances this time; they increased the escorts.
‘What happened with Althea?’ Mr. Dubose handed the bag to Kairos.
Kairos had been absorbed with his thoughts on the upcoming classes at the Academy, and it took him a moment to respond. He put down the rucksack and turned his head towards the dwarf.
‘She is angry with me,’ he replied.
‘Why?’
‘She thinks I like to kill.’
‘Don’t you?’ Mr. Dubose put a sword in a scabbard and tied it to the rucksack.
Kairos did not answer, staring at the sword.
‘That’s why you train,’ the dwarf prompted. ‘To kill. Those moves you learn are not exactly gestures of friendship.’
‘No, I don’t like to kill,’ Kairos conceded. ‘But I won’t hesitate to defend the innocent, or to exact revenge on the wicked.’
‘Spoken like a true warrior,’ said Mr. Dubose in a rare compliment that astonished Kairos. The dwarf continued, ‘And you’ll make a fine knight. That is your niche in life. Mine is to work this forge and build things. Yours is to protect the innocent around you. That is fate.’
‘What about Althea?’ Kairos glanced outside. She was waiting by the knights, quiet and morose.
‘She’ll find her way. She can be a great knight without resorting to killing anyone. She can help you in other ways. One thing I know for sure – she’s not angry with you.’
‘She’s not?’ Kairos asked, surprised.
‘No, she’s just concerned for you. She doesn’t want you to put yourself into unnecessary danger.’
‘How do you know that?’
The dwarf lightly cuffed Kairos on the head. ‘Trust me, boy. When you’ve been alive for more than ninety years, you tend to learn these sorts of things.’
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