The Dwarven Rebellion

by J. J. Thompson

  “Betrayal,” Hallic said with a scowl. “Betrayal from the very people he considered family. Damn it, I knew that something was wrong! I could feel it in my bones. So how could I miss this? I am responsible for allowing our guild to be infiltrated by traitors.”

  “You are being too hard on yourself, Hallic,” Larin objected firmly. “This plot was not created in a day. It must have been building gradually for many months, perhaps even for years. You should both count yourselves lucky to be alive.”

  Mel leaned forward on her chair, put her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her hands. She looked at her father.

  “But how deep does the betrayal run? How many in the guild have turned traitor? Who can we trust?”

  “No one,” Hallic told her. “We can trust no one right now, except for each other.”

  He glanced at the mage.

  “And you, Larin. Actions speak louder than words and right now you are the only person that I trust other than my daughter.”

  The robed dwarf smiled slightly.

  “Thank you, but I have done nothing to earn your trust yet, my friend. But for what it is worth, I do assure you that we are allies. We here in the mages' quarter are patriots. The king supported us and gave us a respectability in society that we had never had before. And for that, we will defend him to the death.”

  He sighed sadly as he adjusted the cuffs on his sleeves.

  “Also, one of our own has possibly been the linchpin of this entire conspiracy. And if she has, we must own that and do our best to correct it.”

  Mel frowned at him.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “A magic-user is working for the traitor, Corbin?”

  “Yes, but I doubt that she considers herself an employee,” Larin said wryly. “Cindra has a grand vision of her own future, aspirations that are probably greater than the prince's. He only wants the empire. Cindra wants the entire world at her feet. Your father was just about to go to the king to tell him about her and to offer him the protection of my people when he asked me to check on your welfare.”

  He looked at Hallic and shook his head.

  “How you even knew that your daughter was in danger is a mystery to me. Perhaps you have a touch of the power within you?”

  The rogue chuckled at the comment.

  “Hardly. But I know a thing or two about the dwarven heart and how easily certain people can be twisted by offers of power. I was worried that someone within the guild might have been recruited by Corbin's people. It never occurred to me that the betrayal was as widespread as it seems to be. I admit that it pains me to see how far my people have fallen.”

  He looked dispirited and Mel reached out and patted his hand briefly.

  “As you have said many times, Father, greed can tempt even the best of us. And I am sure that Corbin's promises were quite extravagant, considering that he expects to wear the crown one day. I'm glad that you asked Larin to check on me. I don't think that I would have escaped the guild with my life without your intervention.”

  Hallic glanced at her and smiled.

  “Oh, I think you would have. I've trained you well and your skills would have turned the table on those assassins. But now we have work to do. As Larin mentioned, I was about to head to the palace to speak with Shandon when this all happened. And now it's even more urgent that I speak with him immediately. If Corbin has moved on our guild, he may be emboldened enough to strike at the king himself.”

  He stood up abruptly.

  “Come with me, Mel. We have to move quickly.”

  Mel got up and Larin rose as well.

  “Wait,” he told them. “Things are now moving rapidly and you may not reach the king in time to save his life. I will accompany you.”

  Hallic looked at him doubtfully.

  “We will be moving very fast, Larin. No offense, but do you think that you can keep up?”

  The mage stroked his short beard and glanced down at his rather ample waist.

  “I am not built for speed, that is true,” he said ruefully, “but even if I were, time is of the essence. So we will travel to the palace using another mode of transport.”

  “You're going to zap us there?” Mel asked a bit nervously.

  The mage winced at her question.

  “Please, young lady. We do not zap. We Gate. And yes, I will use that spell to get us to the king immediately.”

  He looked at Hallic.

  “Where do you think the best landing spot would be? I'd rather not be attacked by the royal guard as soon as we appear within the palace grounds.”

  “Ah, good question. It would be best to zap...”

  Larin winced again and the rogue grinned at him.

  “Sorry. It would be best to Gate us to a spot outside of the main entrance to the grounds. That way, the guards will see us approaching and they will have a chance to recognize me. Then I'll be able to request an audience with the seneschal and we can avoid any, err, misunderstandings.”

  “Good idea,” Larin said. “Just give me a moment to find the right spot.”

  He walked over the mirror and muttered something in a language neither rogue understood.

  Mel looked at her father, who smiled and winked back.

  “Watch this,” he whispered.

  She looked at the mirror and gasped as it suddenly began to glow with a silvery light. A series of images flashed across its surface; rooftops, alleyways and streets flew by as if the observers were seeing through the eyes of a bat, the only flying creature that existed in the underground world of the dwarves.

  Finally the images stopped flowing by and the rogues were looking down at a four-way intersection. The high gates of the royal palace could been seen several dozen yards away. Four guards were standing at the gate, two on either side. They were wearing armor with the royal insignia inscribed on the chest and all of them were armed with axes and shields.

  “That's a good spot, Larin,” Hallic told the mage. “But make sure that we don't appear within sight of those guards. Around one of the corners will do nicely.”

  “Understood. I see no foot traffic at the moment, so let us go while it's quiet. We don't want to alarm any civilians.”

  “Wait a moment,” Mel told them. “How do we know that none of the king's guards has turned traitor?”

  Larin looked at her in surprise, while Hallic's expression became grim.

  “I'm sorry, but it had to be asked,” Mel continued. “I believed that my fellow rogues were all loyal to the crown and look how that turned out.”

  “Shandon hand-picked all of his guards after his father was assassinated,” Hallic told her. “He weeded out any potential traitors. He trusts the people who guard him. I won't say that none of them are above suspicion, but until they prove otherwise, we have to assume that they are loyal to the crown.”

  “That isn't very reassuring, Father,” Mel said bluntly.

  “I know, but we do not have the time to give each one of them a loyalty test. We have got to reach the king. Just stay alert and be ready for anything. Shandon will have to deal with his own people as he sees fit, after we tell him what's happened to the guild.”

  He looked over at the mage.

  “Larin? Let's go.”

  “As you wish. Gather around me please.”

  Mel and Hallic walked over to him and the mage began chanting. When he was done, he looked at the pair.

  “Ready?” he asked them.

  “Do it.”

  “On three, then. One... Two... Three.”

  Chapter 8

  The three dwarves appeared on a street corner just out of sight of the palace gates. Mel shook her head and tried to catch her breath as Hallic scanned the area, looking for any threats or observers. Fortunately the streets were empty in this part of town at the moment.

  The city market wasn't too far away and it attracted many dwarves during the day. Few people lived close to the palace, and the guards preferred it that way, for security reasons.
>
  “Are you all right?” Larin asked Mel. He sounded concerned as he looked at her.

  “I'm fine, thanks,” she replied as she rubbed her eyes. “This new method of traveling will take a little getting used to, that's all.”

  “That's true,” the mage told her with a smile. “We've perfected the Gate spell over the past ten years to the point where people don't vomit anymore when they use it, and few even become dizzy now. You're lucky. When the magic first returned, Gating was a truly horrible mode of transportation.”

  Mel had to laugh.

  “Sounds like it. But I am fine, I swear.”

  She looked at Hallic.

  “Father, will the guardsmen at the gate know you on sight? We need to reach the king as soon as possible and the last time we saw him, both of us entered the palace surreptitiously, out of sight of the royal guard.”

  Hallic shrugged.

  “I have no idea, but it doesn't matter. I have a token that I was given by the seneschal to show the guards any time I wanted to enter the palace grounds. They'll know it to see it.”

  “I hope so,” Mel replied with a frown. “Time may be running out for the king.”

  “I know. Let's go,” Hallic told her and Larin. “Let me do the talking. The royal guards are skittish at the best of times, so don't do anything to alarm them.”

  “I wouldn't think of it,” the mage replied calmly.

  Mel smiled at him and both of them followed Hallic around the corner.

  The trio walked toward the guards, their footsteps echoing around them on the narrow street. High walls bordered the street on either side of them and the ground under their feet was made of interlocking bricks. Street lights blazed down upon them from tall lamp posts, which allowed the guards to see them clearly as they approached.

  “I don't like how exposed we are here,” Mel muttered. “If things go badly, there's nowhere to run or hide.”

  “I know,” Hallic replied under his breath. “Just try to relax. We should be fine.”

  Mel exchanged a dubious look with Larin, but the two of them continued to follow her father. They really had no other choice.

  The quartet of armored guards didn't move as the three dwarves approached the gates. All of the warriors were wearing helmets and the visors on those helms were lowered to protect their faces. Mel couldn't even tell which of the guards were male and which were female. Their stillness and uniformity was unnerving.

  When they had approached to within ten yards of the gates, one of the guards stepped forward and raised a hand.

  “Halt,” the guardsman said, his voice echoing coldly within his helmet. “State your business here, citizens.”

  Hallic held his hands out from his sides to show that he wasn't armed.

  “My name is Hallic Barston,” he stated loudly. “I am here to speak with the seneschal. I have a token from him if you would like to see it.”

  “Do you indeed?” the guard growled. “And can you even name the seneschal, Hallic Barston?”

  “His name is Falder Oresmith, good sir,” Hallic replied with a smile. “He is young for the position, but the king trusts him.”

  The guardsman hesitated and then seemed to relax slightly. He lifted his visor and grinned at the rogue, his thick beard bristling inside of his helmet.

  “Aye, that he does. Very well, show me your token.”

  Hallic slipped a metal badge out of his pocket, walked forward and offered it to the guard.

  The dwarf examined it for a moment and then nodded.

  “It is genuine. I have seen these before.”

  He turned and gestured at one of the other guards.

  “Meron, call the seneschal and tell him that Hallic Barston is at the main gate and wishes to speak with him. And tell him that there are two others with him.”

  He looked over his shoulder.

  “One of them is wearing robes,” he added with a frown.

  “Yes, captain,” the guard replied, banging a fist on her chest.

  She turned around and opened a gray metal box attached to the wall behind her. She touched something inside of it and began speaking quietly.

  “This should not take long,” the captain told Hallic and the others. “Please be patient.”

  The rogue nodded.

  “Thank you,” he replied. “I appreciate your courtesy, sir.”

  He turned and moved back to join Mel and Larin.

  “Once Falder knows that we're out here, he'll be down directly. He knows that I wouldn't show up at the palace gates on a whim.”

  The mage looked past him at the guards.

  “The captain didn't sound too happy to see me, did he?” he said softly. “I'm guessing that he knows what I am.”

  “Nervous?” Mel asked him with a teasing smile.

  “Not at all. The king has made it clear that my people are to be treated with respect, just as all dwarves are,” Larin replied mildly. “But even he can't erase generations of suspicion with a few choice words. It will take time to become accepted into dwarven society. At least none of the guards are trying to run me through.”

  “Not yet,” Hallic said.

  When Larin glanced at him, the rogue winked back.

  “I'm joking, my friend,” he told the mage. “You'll be fine. Let's just wait and try to stay calm, hmm?”

  It did not take very long for someone to respond to the royal guard's call to the seneschal. Another armored guardsman appeared through a side door next to the main gates. Hallic's group had only been waiting for a few minutes, talking quietly amongst themselves.

  “Ah, that was quick,” Larin said as the guard walked out of the door.

  “Told you so,” Hallic replied with a grin.

  The new guard was wearing a blue cord tied around her left arm, marking her as a personal messenger of the seneschal. She wasn't wearing a helmet.

  She saluted the captain and said something to him that the group couldn't hear. He nodded and gestured at Hallic. The new guard spoke again and then walked over to the rogue.

  “Greetings, Hallic Barston,” she said formally. “My name is Crissa Whade. I have been sent by the honorable Falder Oresmith to escort you to his quarters. Will you all come with me, please?”

  “Thank you for your prompt response,” Hallic replied. “Please lead on.”

  “This way.”

  Before they left, Hallic thanked the captain again and the dwarf, looking a little surprised, responded with a slight bow.

  “You really know how to make an impact on people, don't you?” Mel said as they walked through the side door.

  “Being polite to people costs nothing,” her father told her over his shoulder. “And it shows that you respect them. The captain and his squad were only doing their jobs when they stopped us at the gate, and they treated us well.”

  They followed Crissa on to the palace grounds. A wide open space stretched out around them. The ground was covered with interlocking tiles of many colors. Tall lamp posts lit up the area and many benches were placed next to planters. The planters were filled with flowering vines heavy with silver blooms. Their sweet perfume was thick on the air.

  Many people were wandering around the grounds, mostly in groups of two or three. All of them were richly dressed in brightly-colored silk clothing.

  “Nobles,” Mel said with a sneer. “Sycophants. Why does the king tolerate their presence?”

  Hallic smiled at her.

  “Because they have power,” he replied quietly. “They are wealthy and they speak for many others. Shandon is no politician, but he isn't a fool either. If he wants to keep his throne secure, he has to indulge these people to a certain degree.”

  Mel stared back boldly at several of the pampered nobles as they looked at her and the others with obvious disdain.

  “I don't think they like the way that we're dressed,” she said with a chuckle.

  “They definitely do not like me,” Larin muttered. “The upper classes never cared for magic-users, b
ack when we had our powers. They used us to do their bidding, but they never trusted us.”

  Hallic slowed down so that he could walk beside the mage.

  “And now that you have those powers back?” he asked Larin. “Will you do their bidding again?”

  “Never,” Larin replied with surprising fierceness. “We have already decided as a group that we will remain independent and not seek out patrons as our ancestors once did. We are firmly supportive of the king, though and that will not change.”

  Crissa glanced back at the mage and gave him an approving look, but she remained silent. Obviously she had been listening to their conversation.

  Once they had crossed the grounds, the group entered the palace itself through a side entrance. Inside, a long winding hallway made its way through the building. It was richly carpeted and the walls were covered with white marble crisscrossed with veins of gold.

  They ran into several guards who nodded at Crissa as she led the group past them, but none of the warriors said a word. The guards inside of the palace wore the same armor that the gate guards had, but their heads were bare.

  “This is a private route through the palace,” Hallic told the others. “I've used it myself several times. We'll reach the seneschal very soon.”

  A few minutes later, the group followed Crissa around a final corner and stopped in front of a set of double doors. Unlike most doors in the palace, these ones were made of dark wood, intricately carved with scenes of dwarves mining ore, smelting the metal and hammering on that metal in forges.

  “I love these,” Hallic said with a smile as he looked at the doors.

  “Real wood?” Larin asked in surprise. “Amazing.”

  “It's oak, I'm told. The doors are very old,” the rogue told him. “I have no idea who went to the surface to fetch the wood, but I'm glad they did. The carving says a lot about our people.”

  Crissa knocked on the doors and then opened them wide. She stood in the doorway and gestured behind her.

  “Your visitors are here, sir,” she said respectfully.