“That is correct. I apologize for my subordinate. I was advised that you might be summoned before the King very soon. Are you going to stay or vanish as you did before?”
“Both,” Alvin replied. “We’ll be vanishing for a few minutes, then we’ll be back to get settled in here.”
“Very well. I shall wait for you here.”
“What’s your name, Sergeant?”
“Copperbraid. Gerde Copperbraid.”
“We’ll be back as soon as we can, Sergeant Copperbraid.” Alvin placed a fist over his chest like he had seen some of the other Dwarves do and went back to the Humvee.
“She’s seen battle,” Gothy commented. “That scar must have hurt like hell.”
“She survived it,” Mousie said. “That proves she is strong.”
“Makes her fearsome,” Alvin added. “That permanent sneer must make it hard to find a guy.”
“I bet it is viewed as a mark of honor,” Mousie countered. “It proves she can survive whatever life gives her.”
“That’s a good point,” Gothy agreed with her. “It really depends on how they view the people who have seen battle. Considering what we’ve heard and seen, Mousie is probably correct.”
“Let’s get the Turtle into the garage and get the book... I wonder if we can get an abbreviated version of it?” Alvin said, summoning the portal.
Alvin climbed out of the Humvee and stretched. “Ladies, go ahead and use the bathroom first. I’m going to grab the book.”
“Will do. See you in five,” Gothy replied and headed off.
“Hero,” Mousie stayed back, “if it comes down to giving the book away to help her or holding it back to get greater leverage, what are you going to do?”
“Give it,” Alvin shrugged. “Gothy wants to keep her, and it would be hard to do that if we let her die for having fun with us.”
“Thank you, Hero,” Mousie murmured, giving him a quick kiss. “You always prove that you are better than any of the men from my old home.”
“Go on, you,” Alvin told her. “I need to see about a book that doesn’t explain as much as you know.”
Mousie glided away, looking back once to see him watching her. She smiled and gave him a wink. Alvin chuckled as she vanished from view, shaking his head when he went to the kiosk.
“Sir,” Jarvis said before he could touch the kiosk, “I have already retrieved the book you need; it is on the bench. It is, indeed, an abbreviated version of the book Mousie used. It will inform the reader regarding only Human viewpoints on life. It does not include anything technical about your sciences.”
“You are amazing, Jarvis. Thanks, buddy.”
“I know the miss wishes to add her as a permanent resident, and I know that keeping miss happy is better for all of us.”
Laughing, Alvin picked up the book and dropped it into his bag. “That’s the damned truth. Not sure about dinner, so just keep something warm for us. If we don’t need it, throw it up on the auction house.”
“I shall do so, sir.”
“No idea if we’ll be back tonight.”
“I am aware, sir. I will keep an eye on you. If it looks like you are staying the evening there, I will get everything cleaned and packaged on this end. I’ll even have breakfast waiting, just in case.”
“You’re the best,” Alvin grinned as he headed toward the bedroom.
“Indeed, sir.”
Chapter Forty-four
Alvin reappeared as he walked through the portal, nodding at the Sergeant. “We’re back.”
“Your… vehicle?”
“Safe. We don’t need it here, unless you think we’re likely to be attacked.”
“No, you will be safe inside the mountain.”
“Didn’t we hear something like that just before a bunch of assassins attacked us?” Gothy asked Alvin with a bemused smile.
“Close,” Alvin nodded. “Would you like to show us inside, Sergeant?”
“Follow,” she said, leading them into the inn.
Alvin was glad the Dwarves did not skimp on height; the ceiling was over eight feet tall. Even the dangling lamps of lumios stone did not come close to his head, though they did give the lighting a slight greenish cast. The room they entered was richly decorated with thick rugs in various colors and designs. The furniture was metal or stone, but cushioned with lots of pillows. Behind the front desk stood an older, severe-looking Dwarf.
“Sergeant, I have set aside our best room,” the elderly woman said. Striking a small gong, which left a pleasant tone resonating through the air, she waited a moment.
“If you will follow me,” a young Dwarf announced, appearing from a doorway to the side of the counter.
They climbed three flights of stairs before being led down a hallway. Alvin noticed that this hall only had a few doors, widely spaced, instead of the more closely spaced doors he had glimpsed along the lower hallways.
“Your room,” the Dwarf said, opening the last door in the hall.
Walking into the room, Alvin nodded, “Nice penthouse suite.”
“Oh, very nice,” Gothy said, looking around, clearly impressed. She and Mousie went around to check the other doors in the room.
“As Lord Brightblood ordered, these rooms are yours for the next three days,” the Sergeant explained. “I was told to wait, as you are likely to be called for in—”
“They are summoned,” a deep voice said from the doorway. A thickly muscled Dwarf stood in the doorway, the insignia on his bodysuit one Alvin had not yet seen.
“Yes, sir,” the Sergeant said, saluting the newcomer.
“What is your rank and name?” Alvin asked.
“I am General Bloodfist,” the Dwarf replied. “Your presence is required before the King to discuss the matter of the criminal actions of Sergeant Brightblood.”
“She isn’t a criminal,” Mousie said, coming back into the main room.
“We’re ready,” Alvin said as he watched the General’s eyes go past him, widening slightly when he saw Mousie. “Problem?”
“We’ve been told that she is one of your companions, but be warned: any malicious action taken by the longear will reflect on all of you.”
“She isn’t the problem child,” Alvin replied with a snort. “Lead on, General. We don’t know the way, and I’d rather Desiree didn’t get killed before we got there to exonerate her.”
“Follow,” Bloodfist tersely replied.
“Sweetheart, ain’t he?” Gothy snorted as she followed Alvin.
“Reminds me of Champion Skyfall,” Mousie added.
“I can see that,” Alvin agreed, mentally comparing the two.
A large metal-plated carriage with four giant lizards harnessed to it waited for them outside the inn. The door was opened for them, and Bloodfist entered without any hesitation.
Alvin followed the Dwarf into the conveyance and saw it was outfitted with more thick carpet and lots of pillows, the fabrics almost as opulent as the ones in the inn’s lobby. Taking a seat across from the Dwarf, Alvin waited in silence while Gothy and Mousie sat on either side of him. Once the door was closed and the carriage was moving, he said, “I take it this isn’t a normal summons?”
“Lord Brightblood has instructed us to give you all due courtesy,” Bloodfist replied. “I am not normally sent to collect those summoned to give testimony regarding criminal matters.”
“At least Gunther understands that we’re important,” Gothy commented.
“He still turned Desiree over to face a false charge,” Alvin said. “I wonder what game he’s playing?”
“Different world, different sensibilities,” Gothy shrugged. “It’s a moot point; she’ll be exonerated shortly.”
“Maybe they just hold to laws more closely than either of our worlds?” Mousie suggested.
“Because with only the possibility of it being true and they still act on it...” Alvin said slowly. “Maybe people are guilty until proven innocent here.”
“That is true. On
e must prove one’s innocence,” Bloodfist said. “To do any differently risks allowing the guilty to go free.”
“The opposite of our world,” Alvin said, “or at least how our world was.”
“Double-edged,” Gothy said. “It puts everyone on the defense.”
“Your world sees this differently?” Bloodfist asked.
“‘It is better for a hundred guilty men to go free than for one innocent man to be wrongfully convicted,’” Alvin replied. “It is a quote from a famous man in our world.”
“How… stupid,” Bloodfist snorted. “One innocent person being punished is worth it so no guilty people go unpunished.”
“Stark difference,” Gothy said.
“How many people live in Mithril?” Alvin asked Bloodfist.
“Over a million,” Bloodfist replied.
“About the same as the county of Salt Lake,” Alvin said. “I doubt this has the same livable area as the county, though.”
“You think that their views are because of how many of them are packed together?” Gothy asked.
“Makes sense,” Alvin said. “I would think it’d cut way down on crime, too. General, what’s the punishment if you give false testimony about someone or falsely accuse them?”
“Severe,” Bloodfist replied slowly, “unless the accusation stems from an honest misunderstanding.”
“Does Lord Brightblood help determine that everyone is telling the truth during trials?” Mousie asked.
“In any high crime case, the Lord Magistrate does,” Bloodfist nodded. “Lord Brightblood currently holds that post.”
“Which is why he brought the charge. He had to because of his position,” Alvin nodded. “Ignorance of a crime doesn’t mean you’re innocent, does it?”
“Of course not,” Bloodfist frowned.
“I see,” Gothy said. “I still think this whole thing is dumb.”
“I wonder if she hates us. If she hadn’t spent time with us, she wouldn’t be in trouble right now,” Mousie said.
“I think she’ll be happy when we exonerate her,” Gothy said.
“We’ll find out,” Alvin shrugged.
~*~*~
The three of them gazed at the sights of the city. The vehicle was slow, barely faster than a walking pace. After half an hour, they stopped, but Bloodfist motioned for them to stay seated.
“First gate,” he told them.
Alvin looked at the shining silver metallic doors with a grin. “Mithril?”
“Of course,” Bloodfist replied. “Best metal that we know of.”
“You have never seen nirium,” Mousie smiled.
“Nirium?” Bloodfist asked.
Mousie drew her dagger, making Bloodfist frown until she presented it to him hilt first. “This is nirium. It is native to my world.”
Taking the dagger, Bloodfist examined it. Summoning a small blade of his own, he compared them. “Yours can’t hold the edge as long, but I see a master smith made it.”
“May I?” Mousie asked, holding out her hand.
“Of course,” Bloodfist handed over his dagger. His blade was a heavier, single-edged knife.
“A grandmaster made yours,” Mousie said as she studied it. “I see what you mean about the edge. The durability of yours is easily double mine and you get extra damage from the metal.”
She handed the blade to Gothy to examine, who in turn handed it to Alvin, before it was returned to Bloodfist just as the carriage came to a stop. Bloodfist returned Mousie’s dagger once he was finished examining it.
“This is our stop,” Bloodfist said as his dagger vanished. “Follow me, and be aware that any weapons drawn will be construed as an attempted attack. The guards will respond.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it if the King is present,” Alvin said. “We’ve stood beside royalty before, so we should be fine here.”
Bloodfist’s eyes grew wide when their clothing changed as they stepped out of the carriage. Alvin, Gothy, and Mousie were each suddenly dressed in their fancy clothing. “Is that part of the… outfit tab?”
“Yup,” Gothy smiled. “Costly, but good for moments like these.”
“I see,” Bloodfist nodded. His armor reappeared, covering all of him but his head after a few seconds. Turning toward a set of doors, he saluted the two guards stationed there. “I have brought the people summoned by the King.”
“Yes, sir,” both fully armored Dwarves replied, saluting with a closed fist over their hearts before one of them knocked on the door.
A moment later, one of the doors swung soundlessly open. Another armored Dwarf stood within the doorway, saluting. “Sir, the way is clear.”
“Very good,” Bloodfist said as he started walking.
Alvin, Gothy, and Mousie exchanged glances before following him. I wonder if keeping the armor might not have been the better bet? Alvin wondered to himself while they trailed Bloodfist.
The walls were decorated with intricate carvings depicting scenes of historical events from Dwarven history. There were grand battles, covering ten feet or more that Alvin wished he could stop to examine. Smaller panels included scenes like a Dwarf addressing a filled audience hall, and one that Alvin decided must represent the first Dwarf donning a set of armor. The artwork lining the halls imparted a sense of gravity to the building they were in. Ahead of them stood a set of doors, guarded by half a dozen armored Dwarves. On the doors, there was a carving of a Dwarf being enveloped by armor. Bloodfist saluted as he advanced, but did not slow. One of the Dwarves on duty knocked once, then opened the door for them.
“A totally different vibe than Night’s castle, eh, Mousie?”
“Yes, Gothy. These people are even more regimented than mine.”
Alvin was the last one through the door, looking around appreciatively as they entered a grand hall. No columns broke up this hall, the lattice of stone above them showing off the structural strength of the room. Large veins of lumios stone ran in almost perfect symmetry through the supports above and down the walls.
A few dozen Dwarves in armor or normal clothing stood at the far end of the hall. A dais with a throne sat there, before which Desiree was kneeling with Gunther standing beside her. On the throne sat the largest Dwarf Alvin had seen. He stared at them with emotionless and aloof eyes.
“Your Majesty, King Fredrick Mithrilblood, I have brought the people you requested,” Bloodfist announced, coming to a stop three feet away from Gunther and Desiree with a fist over his heart.
“Majesty,” Alvin said, bowing his head fractionally and placing a hand over his heart.
“I didn’t expect much courtesy from an outsider,” the King’s voice was surprisingly light for such a big man, but it carried the depth of command. Alvin thought he saw the ghost of a smile through the Dwarf’s thick beard for an instant. “You are here to give testimony for the accused, Desiree Brightblood or for the accuser, Lord Brightblood. It is alleged that Desiree has bedded with those who would be counted as children.”
“She slept with adults,” Alvin replied. “I have proof, but I only brought enough proof for one of you, sir.” Alvin pulled the book from his bag. Every Dwarf in armor grew very alert when he suddenly had something in his hand, and he made sure to show it to everyone. “I’m just unsure if you want to read it, or have one of your subjects read it.”
“Sire, I will read it,” Gunther said.
“I thank you for that, Lord Brightblood, but I can’t allow you to do so. General Bloodfist, please take the book and read it.”
“As you command, sir.”
Alvin let the General have the book. After a couple of seconds, the book vanished and Bloodfist wore an expression of shocked surprise.
“General, did the book have the answers to the inquiry before us?” the King asked.
“Sire, the people before you who are not longears are called ‘Humans.’ They live, on average, about eighty years. They consider eighteen years of age to be adult.”
“Short lived,” a number of voices mu
rmured.
“Silence,” Mithrilblood ordered softly, and everyone stopped talking.
“Sire, I would move to exonerate the accused, since this recent information has come to light,” Gunther said.
Downtime and Death (Apocalypse Gates Author's Cut Book 5) Page 37