Battleborne

by Dave Willmarth

  “War with the dwarves is exactly what the war leader wants. I made more than one mistake in completing my mission. Not only did I fail to include my own kingdom in the agreement, but I forced the war leader into accepting our terms, rather than convincing him to honor them by choice. Not that I think he would have ever been convinced. But either way, by entering into the conflict directly, you would give him exactly what he wants. He gets his war, and he gets to claim that Darkholm instigated it after he agreed to peace.”

  Max waited as the dwarves grumbled over his words, while Ironhand grinned at him. “Ye be learnin’ fast, Max. Bein’ king ain’t easy, and there rarely be simple black and white decisions. What would ye have us do?”

  “There are several hundred orcs in the wagon train that will arrive here tomorrow. I request a guide to lead them safely to Stormhaven. In addition, if it’s not too much to ask, I would request a contingent of miners, engineers, and guards be sent to my new mine. Both to help harvest the gold and silver there, and to keep it secure when An’zalor attacks. If you have any farmers who might be interested, there is a great deal of land between the waystation and the mine, and I have the authority, for the next few days anyway, to deed or lease some of it to them in return for an agreement to sell us their crops.”

  Stonebinder spit on the floor. “Ye want us to send our kin into a war zone, but ye won’t accept our participation in yer war?”

  Ironhand answered for Max. “What he’s asked for is that we, as an ally and trade partner, participate in his mining and farming operations. Since both be out in the wilderness, far from the safety o’ Darkholm’s walls, it be only natural we send some warriors to guard against goblins, wild beasties, n such. Should An’zalor attack our people while they be peacefully goin’ about their business on land ceded to Max here by An’zalor’s own hand, well then it’d be him breakin’ the peace accords. And the gods would be judging him accordingly.”

  Several of the counselors chuckled at the grin on Ironhand’s face. Stonebinder was less amused. “I see no reason to risk our kin to make up fer this one’s blunders!”

  “Then yer clan need not participate.” Ironhand growled, tiring of the dwarf’s unreasonable attitude. “And ye won’t share in the percentage o’ gold and silver I’m sure Max was about to offer us in exchange fer our help.”

  Max nodded emphatically. “That is exactly what I was about to do. Say, twenty percent of the mine’s production for as long as your people remain to help work and protect the mine?”

  Ironhand’s grin widened, the negotiation having started. “Fifty, at least! I don’t lightly risk the lives o’ me miners, or me warriors!”

  Max shook his head. “Fifty percent would break me. I have already promised a small percentage to the orc miners. And everybody knows that your kin would like nothing more than a good excuse to fight with the orcs! Shall we say twenty five percent?”

  Now the dwarves around the table were all smiling at Max. Some for the prospect of a new mine to work, others just proud of him for standing his ground.

  “Thirty percent, and that be me final offer!”

  Ironhand held out his hand, and Max shook it. “I would have gone to thirty five.”

  “And I woulda sent ye the help ye needed fer free!” Ironhand roared with laughter. When he calmed a bit, he continued. “Now, then. Ye completed two quests, and ye deserve an appropriate reward. First, ye delivered the sword and me message o’ peace. Fer that ye earned the right to ask a favor.”

  Max was okay with this reward, as he actually had completed this quest properly, before he was sent to the arena and messed things up. And he’d been thinking about the reward he’d like for several days.

  “In the past few days, I have discovered that speed of movement is critical. For that reason, I would like to request a permanent portal be set up in Stormhaven. Linked to the portal here in Darkholm. It would also assist us greatly in rebuilding our city, establishing trade, purchasing needed materials and supplies.”

  Ironhanded nodded. “I were going to suggest this meself, if fer no other reason than bein able to quickly recall the troops stationed in Stormhaven, should we need them. Portals be expensive, mind ye…” He looked sideways at Max. “But I’ll grant ye that favor.”

  Max let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding. The portal was vital for his defense of the mine and farms. It would cut at least two days off his response time, allowing messengers to get to him, and his troops to move south, more quickly.

  “Thank you, your highness. That lifts a great weight from my shoulders.” Max bowed his head.

  But Ironhand wasn’t finished. “Now, about the second quest! Ye did fulfil the technical terms o’ the quest, as the gods notified me that I currently be at peace with An’zalor. But as ye said, it be a fragile peace at best, and likely doomed to fail. So I’ll adjust yer reward accordingly. I believe ye’ve learned yer lesson well, Max.”

  Bonus Quest Reward! 500,000xp; New territory awarded: Sentry Outpost.

  King Ironhand has elected to award you the outpost where you encountered Regin and the heroes of old.

  Max blinked a few times as he read the words. The outpost was west of Darkholm along the ridgeline, nearly due north of his new holdings. Easily a day’s travel closer than Darkholm, and two days closer than Stormhaven if he didn’t have the portal. It was easily defensible, as the heroes had proven so long ago. He could station troops there as a quick response force, and it would be a safe place his orcs could retreat to much more quickly than Darkholm.

  “That is too kind of you, King Ironhand. I am overwhelmed by your generosity.”

  “Bring yer people here, Max. By the time they arrive, we’ll have yer portal ready. They can be in Stormhaven by noon tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll ask fer volunteers among the miners and farmers. We’ll send along a hundred guards, and some engineers to work on walls and such.”

  Dalia cleared her throat, and all eyes turned to her. “Me king, I’m letting ye know that this be the prize I chose fer completin’ the trials.” She set the lich’s crystal on the table. It took a moment for the dwarves to realize what it was. Max took out the ring that contained Battleaxe’s body and slid it next to the crystal.

  “This contains the body of Battleaxe, as well as those of the undead dwarves that the lich had enslaved. I’m afraid the bodies of the dwarves aren’t all in the best condition…”

  Ironhand nodded. “Thank ye, Max. And Dalia, ye know what to do with that foul thing. Take it to yer da. He’ll gather the elders o’ yer clan, and destroy it. Ye be sure n let me know when, so I can be there.” There were nods from several of the elders who wanted to be included as well. “That monster were livin’ free fer much too long. We thank ye fer puttin’ an end to him.”

  Looking around the table, he leaned back and took a long pull of ale from his mug. “It be late, and we’ve much to do tomorrow. Send for old Puckerface, tell him to get his bones out o’ bed and report here. And to bring materials for a portal. Max, yer suite be awaitin ye. No point in walkin all the way to Stormhaven tonight, when ye can just use the portal in the mornin’.”

  Max bowed his head and thanked the king again, then headed to his suite. Falling on the bed, he was asleep in moments.

  *****

  Max was just getting dressed after a warm shower when there was a knock on his door. A moment later his favorite valet entered. “Me king invites ye to breakfast.”

  Happy to see the old dwarf, Max gladly followed him to the same room in which he’d had breakfast with his new councilors several days earlier. The king was there with Spellslinger, who cast Max a grumpy look before shoving some pancakes into his mouth.

  “Max, please join us.” Ironhand pointed to a chair on his left, and Max took a seat. A servant began placing plates of food in front of him almost immediately.

  “Yer portal be operational.” Ironhand began without delay. “Puckerface here worked all night. Ye might…” Ironhand paused as Max prod
uced two bottles of Firebelly’s Finest, passing them across the table to the dwarf. “Ha! Ye read me mind.” Ironhand chuckled.

  Spellslinger swallowed his mouthful and took hold of both bottles, making them disappear with a grunt of approval. In return he slid a gem across the table to Max. “This be the key to yer portal. Right now it be set to connect only to the one in the market square near yer favorite bakery. I set up the portal at yer end just inside the main gate, to the left. There be a pedestal with a control panel. Insert that gem in the slot, and ye’ll be able to operate the controls.”

  “Thank you master Spellslinger. I know you value your sleep. I apologize for having you roused at such a late hour.” Max picked up the gem and put it into storage. “When things have stabilized a bit, I’d like to host a feast to thank you all for being so kind.” He looked to Ironhand as he spoke and the king nodded. He was about to accept when Spellslinger spoke.

  “We’ll be there, as long as ye have more Firebelly’s”

  “I’ll buy more today.” Max promised.

  Ironhand got back to business. “Yer councilors have been in Stormhaven since the day after ye left. I have reports that structural repairs are nearly complete. The kobolds have been a big help, clearin’ the tunnels within two miles around the city, bringin’ in the meat from the critters they killed. They also completely emptied yer cellar of ale and wine.” Ironhand grinned as Max rolled his eyes. “There be farmers harvesting some o’ the mushroom crop, and selling half of it to merchants here in Darkholm. The rest be going to feed the guards stationed there. Last I heard, a dozen or more merchants have asked to purchase shops.”

  “Including the baker’s nephew!” Spellslinger chirped happily, making Max smile.

  “Ye have thirty or so volunteers willing to work yer two mines. One of them does contain a significant quantity o’ diamonds, which be the reason fer the volunteers. They’ll all be wantin’ to work fer a percentage.”

  “Fine by me.” Max’s smile was growing by the moment.

  “Our scouts tell me the wagon train should arrive by noon. Gives ye a few hours to conduct some business before they arrive. I’ll have ‘em escorted to the portal, and ye can meet em’ there.” Ironhand got to his feet, motioning for Max to stay seated. “Finish yer breakfast. I’m off to meet with the volunteers to go south. They’ll likely be passing yer wagons on their way out. No need to come along, they know their business. The quicker they get on the road, the safer yer people and mine will be.” With a brief wave of his hand, he exited the room.

  Spellslinger had finished his breakfast, and was staring at Max. “Been a hard time for you, Battleborne. Seems it is ever so when it comes to yer kind. Stay strong, lad. We’ll be here to help ye when we’re needed, don’t ye worry. In the meantime…” the old mage grinned. “If yer going to Firebelly’s this mornin’, I’ll just tag along. Ye’ll need advice on the proper vintages to purchase as gifts fer yer friends.”

  “Ha!” Max took a big drink of water to wash down some eggs. “Very kind of you to offer. Suppose you could help me pick out the best pastries at the bakery, as well?”

  “If ye insist.” Spellslinger laughed.

  The two of them left the room, headed for the market square. Max asked the old dwarf to take a detour, and he quickly agreed. Ten minutes later they were knocking on a door. A dwarfess with puffy eyes answered, bowing her head when she recognized Max and the old mage. “We… are honored, your majesty, elder.”

  “Bah! None o’ that.” Spellslinger grumped affectionately. “We came to pay our respects.”

  Max bowed his head to the woman. “Battleaxe was among my first friends here, and my most valued. He gave his life to save the rest of our company, and I will forever be in his debt.”

  “Thank ye, majesty.” She bobbed her head again, making Max uncomfortable. He held out a bag with five thousand gold in it. More than double what he’d given Smitty and Dalia. “This is his share of our reward for the trials. I know it is small consolation for his loss, but I hope it will allow your family some comfort in the days to come.”

  The dwarfess, Max guessed she was the scout’s daughter, took the bag. A moment later her eyes widened. “This be five thousand gold!” Now Spellslinger’s eyes were wide as well. “We can no’ take this.” She tried to give the bag back to Max.

  “It should be more.” Max refused to take it, gently pushing her hands back toward her body. “Please, accept it. And know that you and your family will always be honored guests in Stormhaven. Battleaxe will forever be remembered as a hero in my kingdom.”

  The dwarfess began to cry, nodding her head. Spellslinger mumbled his condolences, and hustled Max away from the door. “Best to leave them be.” he whispered as they stepped away. When they were a good distance from the house, he added, “That were right generous of ye.”

  Max shook his head. “I owe them more than that. But I need to think of the kingdom as well.”

  They walked in silence until they reached Firebelly’s, at which point the old mage became as lively as a kid in a candy store. When they left twenty minutes later, Max had a dozen bottles of Firebelly’s Finest in his bag, as did Spellslinger. And they had placed an order for several more cases and casks to be delivered to Stormhaven. All told, Max was nearly eight hundred gold poorer, but he’d have a well-stocked personal cellar for hosting the feast for the dwarves.

  They visited the bakery, and again very nearly cleaned out their stock. The baker’s nephew was there, and had a cart all loaded up with supplies, ready to go. Max actually hugged the young man, saying that they were going to be good friends. Which made the young baker stammer and left him at a loss for words.

  At that point Spellslinger left Max to the rest of his business, absconding with a selection of baked treats to go with his spirits. Max didn’t feel the least bit guilty about the old mage working through the night anymore. He’d been amply rewarded.

  Max made a stop at Fitchstone’s to let the old man know he was okay. He also handed over another ten dragon scales for auction, which made the dwarf’s day. Fitchstone suggested holding the auction in three days, to give more bidders a chance to attend, and raise funds. Max sadly informed him that he probably couldn’t attend, as he would be dealing with getting Stormhaven organized and secured.

  “I’d like for you to do something for me, if you wouldn’t mind.” Max asked.

  “Name it.” Fitchstone didn’t take his eyes off the scales on his counter.

  Max briefly told the old merchant about the lich and his minions in the arena, getting the dwarf’s full attention. When he was done, he asked, “Can you find out the names of those twelve dwarves, and divide the auction proceeds among their families? I feel like we owe them that, at least.”

  Fitchstone shook his head. “There be no need. We take care o’ them that are left behind when our warriors fall. They receive a death benefit from the king’s treasury, and the rest of us look after them in small ways.”

  “If this set of scales sells for a similar price, divided twelve ways, it won’t be all that much per family. Just my small contribution.” Max insisted. After a moment’s consideration, he leaned in close to the old merchant. “Besides, I have more than a hundred scales still in my bag.” He watched Fitchstone’s eyes roll up in his head. “And I now own the battleground, where I can harvest even more, along with more of this.” He handed the dwarf a large sliver of the dragon bone. “Include this in the auction, or make it a separate one. And of course you’ll take your percentage of both, for your time and effort.”

  “Y-yes, of course, lad.” Fitchstone’s eyes were glued to the bone sliver. “I’m thinkin’ this one should be a private auction. Very small. Only know o’ three, maybe four crafters who could work with this. And I’ll require absolute discretion. No need to have people thinkin’ there be dragon bits just layin’ about everywhere. Drive the prices down.”

  Leaving Fitchstone to his planning, Max made a quick stop at Josephine’s shop. The mo
ment he walked in the door, she appeared behind her counter. “King Max!” She stepped up onto the counter and motioned him forward. When he got within reach, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad you made it back alive! And I hear we’re at peace with the orcs?”

  Max grunted. “For the next couple days, maybe. Not my best work.” he mumbled. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know I haven’t forgotten about our dinner. I’m still trying to get things organized, but as soon as I’m settled, it’ll be just you and me and… what’s your favorite meal?”

  “Hmm… I’ll have to think about that and get back to you. Do you have a royal chef?”

  Max shook his head. “I suppose at the moment that’d be me.” He shrugged. “I haven’t even been back to the city yet, so I really don’t know who’s there. My focus right now is on defense and food production more than palace staff. But give me a little time, and I promise we’ll have a great evening.”

  “Take your time, big fella. I can wait. Maybe.” She winked at him.

  “In the meantime, I’d like you to show me a few more spell books…”

  *****

  Max was standing near the portal in the market square when the first of his wagons came into view. Gr’tok rode his mount in front, with his son driving the wagon. An escort of dwarven warriors were making sure the crowd stayed clear of the carnivorous ja’kang.

  Wasting no time, a dwarven mage who’d been assigned to the portal closed it down. It had been connected to one of the other dwarven cities, with merchants moving back and forth all morning. A series of quick motions at the pedestal, and the portal reopened. Max stared through, getting the first look at his city’s ground level. From the position of the portal, he could see the double doors of the inner keep’s gate building.

  Gr’tok cleared his throat from behind Max, giving him a meaningful look when he turned around. “Oh!” Max laughed self-consciously. “Uhm, welcome to Stormhaven! Please, pass through and explore your new home.” He made a sweeping motion toward the portal, and Gr’tok spurred his mount forward.