Delver Magic Book II: Throne of Vengeance

by Jeff Inlo

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  Two days after Bol's departure, it seemed as if little had been accomplished by his leaving. Word had spread of the change in monarchs, but the shouts of the separatists continued to thrive. The growing mobs in the caverns of Dunop seemed as discontent with Jon as they were with his father. Worse, word of the queen's defiance had also spread. The separatist leaders took this news to heart and rumors of overthrow were now actually being heard in neighboring cities.

  Jon made weary but forthright efforts to bring stability back to the palace. He gathered his ministers. He dismissed those who might doubt his leadership and replaced them with dwarves with long allegiance to the Folarok family. He promoted Hern to Chief Adviser and listened well to all his proposals. He left Yave to herself in the palace, hoping she might eventually swallow her bitterness, but he revoked most of her authority by retiring her staff, except for her personal servants.

  As for the separatists, he offered a number of proclamations which he felt might pacify them, or at least take the bite out of their contentions. He announced a desire to hire and train dwarves to venture above ground and collect wood from Dark Spruce Forest. Once dwarves were proficient in doing so, he would reduce trade, and thereby contact, with the elves. He also stated his intentions to prevent any humans from mining within the hills over their heads. Without revealing the location or even existence of their underground city, they would discourage any such attempts. Any exploratory mine-shafts begun by the humans would be blocked with reinforced dwarf construction, and any resources the humans might deem valuable would be removed before they could be found.

  These decisions were announced with the hope of bringing a greater feeling of independence and security to the dwarves of Dunop. Unfortunately, they fell short of the separatists ultimate desires. These dwarves wanted complete independence from every other race. They believed that only by gaining the grudging respect for their superiority would the elves and humans truly leave them in peace. They did not want to hide from the humans, they wanted the humans to hide from them. They did not want to rely on the elves for anything, they wanted the elves to come begging to them for gems and metals.

  None of Jon's new proposals would accomplish this. Trade with the elves would still be necessary for food. The humans would be tricked into leaving rather than forced into running in fear.

  The one aspect, however, that truly allowed the separatists to grow in power was fear, fear of the magic that spilled out of the sphere and now flooded the land. The dwarves could never utilize this power as the other races. Its reappearance was not welcome. The return of the magic truly allowed the separatists to fuel the fears of the other dwarves, and those fears grew despite Jon's pledge to further Dunop's independence.

  Hern recognized this with increasing alarm. Had Bol made these proclamations, they might have sufficed. They might have actually ended the separatist movement. But Bol had left, ran away without dignity, and this was the dagger strike to the heart of the throne. Jon was looked upon as a weak king or not a king at all. The spreading word of Yave's own defiance did much to encourage the scorn heaped upon the new monarch.

  Worse yet, Hern was now receiving intelligence that Yave was actually courting the allegiance of the separatist leaders. Mother of the king or not, this could not be tolerated. It had to be stopped, even if it meant her execution. Hern addressed Jon with respect and care over such a delicate matter, but with no less resolve.

  They spoke in a small chamber away from guards and other ministers.

  "We have a problem," Hern said gravely.

  Jon slouched as if another weight was cast upon his shoulders. "What is it now?" His voice carried the fatigue of the past few days.

  "I am receiving news involving Yave." The adviser chose his next words very carefully. "Word has already spread of her unwillingness to accept you as king."

  "It doesn't matter what she accepts," Jon interrupted. His tone made it clear he did not wish to discuss the situation with his mother. Hern, however, persisted.

  "I'm afraid that's not the problem." Hern spoke faster now, trying to speak the full point of his concerns before Jon stopped him again. "The fact is that she does not accept your authority, and others now follow her lead. There is even talk of an alliance between Yave and the separatist leaders. Such an alliance could have only one purpose, to remove you from the throne."

  At first, Jon wondered if such a prospect was truly such a misfortune. However, he bit back his desire to escape his new responsibilities and attempted to focus on the validity of Hern's distress.

  "How much of this is rumor and how much is truth?"

  "My sources are reliable."

  Jon rubbed his wide wrinkled forehead. "What is the extent of the alliance, how far has it progressed?"

  "As of now, not very far. I doubt they've even met. To my knowledge, Yave has not left the palace. Contact must have been made through couriers, possibly one of her servants."

  "We could question them, dismiss them without telling her." Jon offered as an easy solution.

  "She'd know, and it wouldn't stop her," Hern replied stoically. "It would just make her that much more determined to advance the alliance. And it wouldn't stop the efforts of the separatists to use her against you."

  "Then what should we do?" Jon questioned in near exasperation.

  "The only way to stop this and bring authority back to the throne is to have her acknowledge your right to rule."

  "She won't do that."

  "Then you will have to force her."

  Jon's face filled with horror. "I can't do that."

  "Then banish her from Dunop."

  "I can't do that, either."

  "You're not leaving us with any other options."

  "There must be something else we could do."

  As he had done many times before this meeting, Hern contemplated the problem and searched for clear solutions. He spoke openly to his king of his own interpretations. "We face two threats. The first is Yave's unwillingness to accept your authority. The second is a possible move of the separatists using your mother as the means to remove you from the throne. You are obviously against dealing with Yave to rectify the first problem. The second, however, can not be as easily ignored. I would have preferred that you would have addressed both, but it is as you will. If we are to stop the separatists, and the anarchy that would follow, we must keep Yave from making any deals with them. I can only suggest that you have Yave watched and her servants followed. If we round up those that show involvement in this conspiracy, we might yet end this rebellion without forcing a showdown with Yave."

  As if to immediately oppose this proposition, a shrill scream echoed through the halls. Groans erupted, foreshadowed with the clash of steel. Shuffling footsteps broke softly beneath the wooden door which separated Hern and Jon from the palace corridors. Hern moved for his axe, but he was not a warrior. He fumbled with the handle just as the source of the conflict exploded into the chamber.

  The door crashed open. A handful of dwarves broke into the dimly lit room with weapons drawn. Blood stained more than one of the razor sharp axe heads. They took hold of Hern roughly and relieved him of his weapon.

  "It seems she has moved quicker than I could have guessed." Hern grunted.

  The rebels shook him and demanded silence.

  Initially, Jon watched as if he was nothing more than some distant spectator. His demeanor changed drastically, however, as four rebel dwarves surrounded him with axe and mace drawn. The new king stood his ground. He stood firm; angry. The burdens of responsibility which burdened his shoulders dissolved with a sneer of his own fury. He glared with defiance, and for the first time since Bol left, he stood with the aura of authority. Finally, he appeared as a king.

  He folded his hands across his chest, making no move for his own weapon. His head turned upon his neck as his feet remained firm, cemented in place by concrete will. He looked to each dwarf that confronted him. His tongu
e was silent as his eyes dared any of them to commit the crime of regicide. Finally, he grew impatient. He wished not to dignify the event by addressing these pawns, but he wished to move this encounter to its conclusion.

  "Well?"

  The rebels hesitated. They looked among themselves. None answered.

  Jon grunted with disgust. "I am going to the throne room. I assume one of your leaders, hopefully more articulate than you, will be waiting there to give his demands."

  Without an eye or a care to the rebels, Jon's hands dropped to his belt and unhitched his mace. He threw it to the ground, thereby disarming himself. The weapon made a lonely thud against the stone floor.

  Jon stepped up to the lone dwarf that blocked his way to the door. "If you intend to stop me, I suggest you swing that axe now. No? Then step aside." He turned his head back to the others. "And unhand my advisor. He will accompany me. Follow if you will. Your presence means nothing. It's your leaders I wish to address."

  At first, those holding Hern did not comply, but a hard sneer from the king and his defiance to move without his minister forced their submission. Hern stepped free and moved along side his king. The rebels followed closely behind.

  As Jon stepped past slain palace guards, rage filled his brain. He cursed heavily as dwarves well-known to him lay in crumpled heaps near the wide doors of the throne room. The sight of Yave sitting smugly on the throne, surrounded by dwarves unknown to him, did little to ease his anger. He had to bite his lip in order to avoid a heated explosion, but he would no longer cower before his mother. He faced her with shoulders squared and back straight. He looked into her face with unblinking eyes. When he spoke, his voice would not crack. It carried the weight of authority Yave would not recognize.

  "What you have done here is criminal."

  Yave was caught off guard. She expected Jon to whimper, not this.

  The king disregarded her surprise. "Those that stand with you now also share this crime. And none of this can be forgotten or overlooked. I will make no plea to you, no demand for reason or request for mercy. I know you well enough that such words would be useless. You are stubborn enough and filled with enough hatred to have your way regardless of the means. It seems you have taken the throne. What is your will now? How will you further divide the dwarves of Dunop?"

  Yave stared into Jon's face as if she did not recognize him. "I am once again queen. I will not divide the dwarves, but bring them together. I will bring them together by seeking justice against those that have dared to wrong us."

  "You are no longer the queen!" Hern shouted. "This is treason."

  The queen placed an apathetic glance upon the advisor, but she would not be insulted by him again. She mouthed an order as if calling for dinner.

  "Kill him."

  A rebel by her side drew a broad sword, and with deft precision, pierced Hern through the heart. Hern doubled over and folded into a quickly growing pool of his own blood.

  "No!" Jon cried and he attempted to rush to his minister. Several rebels took hold of him and kept him in place. Tears filled his eyes. As he could no longer look at the lifeless body of his true friend, he slammed his eyelids shut and the tears rolled down his cheeks, disappearing into his gray beard.

  Yave ignored the anguish of her son as did the remaining dwarves in the throne room. He was powerless, he was no longer king.

  The transference of power was illustrated in Yave's own transformation. Her expression of anger and fury quickly mutated into determination fueled by newfound power. She felt the approval of the rebels that surrounded her, and she chose to feed it. "Let it be known that the rightful ruler of Dunop has retrieved her throne. Let it also be known that all treaties and alliances are null and void. The dwarves of Dunop no longer need to depend on the elves. We will begin collecting all food and wood for ourselves. There will be no more trade with the elves. We will also no longer live with the threat of the humans. Any human mine shafts begun near our city will be destroyed. Any humans found near the entrances to our home will be summarily executed. It is also time we amend the greatest grievance cast upon us. I declare war upon the algors, the ones responsible for the death of Tun Folarok, the true heir to my throne."

  Nodding approvals came from those rebels that surrounded Yave. They had their victory. The dwarves would become self-sufficient and more. They would reaffirm their superiority; they would teach a lesson to any that dared to oppose them. They would no longer hide from the humans, and they would no longer rely on the elves. They truly did not care if Tun's death was avenged, but they were more than happy to assert their superiority over the algors as well. They welcomed the war.

  A lone voice called out objection.

  "What you're doing is wrong!" Jon heaved.

  "Is it? Is it wrong to extract justice? Tun was killed by sand giants created by the algors. You yourself brought that news back from Sanctum. The sand giants were merely the weapons, the algors were the murderers. I will not let this crime go unpunished."

  "What about your crimes?" Jon wailed. The knowledge of what had happened tormented his soul. "Good dwarves lie dead because of your deeds. Who will bring justice to their families that grieve for them?"

  The queen remained unfazed. "People that protect or defend murderers create their own grief. They do not require justice."

  "That's ludicrous," the dethroned king cried. It was more of a moan than a statement.

  Yave grew tired of this talk. "Take him away. We need not kill him. We will imprison him and use him as an example that justice will always be served."

  The rebels pulled at Jon and dragged him from the throne room.

  Yave addressed her separatist followers. "This is a dangerous time. Magic is free in the land and a threat to every living dwarf. Magic casters from every race will grow strong with the energy that fills the air. They will wish to attack us. We must show we are not weak, that we are unwilling to allow any race to commit crimes against us. The algors will prove an example for the rest of the land. It is time for us to plan our attack."