“Ah, excellent,” someone inside of the room said. “Please show them in.”
“Yes sir.”
The guard stepped back and nodded to Hallic and the others.
“Please come in,” Crissa told them.
“Thank you.”
Hallic led the way inside and the guard closed the doors behind the trio once they had entered the room.
The seneschal's office was quite large, with a high ceiling that had several ornate light fixtures hanging from it. The walls were painted a pleasant light blue and held a half-dozen paintings of past rulers.
The seneschal sat at a large metal desk and, on the wall behind him was a painting of Shandon Ironhand wearing plain plate armor and holding a large axe in one hand. The king was staring out of the painting straight at the visitors, his eyes catching theirs. The portrait seemed to be weighing their worth as it looked at them.
“Good day, Hallic.”
Falder Oresmith stood up and walked around the desk, a hand extended toward the rogue.
Hallic smiled at him and shook the seneschal's hand firmly.
“It's good to see you again,” the rogue replied. “Thank you for seeing us so promptly.”
“Not at all, not at all,” Falder said jovially. “You are favored by the king, my friend, and that is saying something. Now, who have you brought with you today?”
Mel had been watching the seneschal closely and was surprised at what she saw.
Falder was very young for his position, not much older than she was. He wore a rich red silk shirt and black trousers, but they were very plain, unlike the clothing of most courtiers. Instead of a full beard, the seneschal had an amazingly long, black mustache that grew down below his chin and was twisted into curls at the ends. His bright green eyes twinkled merrily as he met hers and he seemed to be unfazed by the sight of the robed mage beside her.
“Allow me to introduce my daughter, Mel, and our friend, Larin Dunnor,” Hallic said politely. “Mel, Larin, this is the king's seneschal, Falder Oresmith.”
The seneschal shook hands with both of them.
“Please, just call me Falder,” he said with a smile. “We are not at court at the moment and frankly, the king has no patience for the formal trappings of rank and all the rest of it. Why don't you all take a seat and tell me what I can do for you?”
Several chairs were set against a wall and the three visitors moved them to the front of the desk so that they were facing Falder, who walked back to his seat and sat down again.
The seneschal leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk. He looked at each of the trio in turn.
“This is an extraordinary gathering, is it not?” he asked them. “Two rogues and a mage have entered the palace to meet with the king's representative. Amazing. So, Hallic, what is going on?”
The rogue grinned at Falder.
“You are quick,” he told the dwarf. “You know that Larin is a mage. That's interesting.”
“Is it? Come now, Hallic. How many dwarves wear robes, except for clerics, hmm? And Larin is not sporting one of the blessed symbols that all clerics wear. What else could he be, other than a mage?”
He sat back and stroked his mustache thoughtfully.
“Besides, I know the name of the leader of the mages,” Falder continued as he watched Larin. “The king has spoken of you with respect, sir, and that respect is never given lightly.”
The mage appeared to be pleased by the seneschal's comment.
“I respect him as well,” Larin responded. “He has championed my people as no other ruler has ever done and because of that, we owe him our loyalty.”
“We are all loyal to Shandon,” Hallic said. “Which is why we are here.”
“Ah, now we come to it,” Falder said with a smile.
“Yes, we do. Seneschal, the king is in danger, grave danger, and we need to speak with him immediately.”
Falder sat up alertly, his smile fading.
“Explain,” he said shortly.
Hallic nodded at Larin, who cleared his throat and straightened his sleeves.
“One of my people has betrayed us,” the mage told the seneschal. “She has, I believe, joined those forces that are arrayed against the crown and even now plots to replace the king with his illegitimate son.”
“She?” Falder asked. “This person is a mage?”
“Not exactly, no. She is something else. A new kind of magic-user. More powerful. More elemental. And much more dangerous.”
He leaned toward Falder as if to emphasize his point.
“She could reach out from wherever she is, right now, and attack the king. Sir, we must protect him, and we must begin to do so immediately.”
The seneschal looked from the mage to Hallic and raised an eyebrow.
“Do you believe this?” he asked.
“I do,” the rogue replied firmly. “What Larin has shown me concerning this person chills me to the marrow. And honestly, even if he is overselling the danger, what harm could it do to offer more protection to the king?”
Falder sighed and shook his head.
“I personally agree with that sentiment,” he told the group. “But the king may not. He is restive, as you know, and quite independent. He already chafes at the restrictions put upon him by his position, and to tell him that he should now have a magical bodyguard,” he smiled quickly at Larin, “may not be received well.”
“Should we not let the king make that choice?” Mel interjected quietly. “It is his life that is in peril, after all.”
Falder stared at her for a long moment and then stood up abruptly.
“You make a good point,” he told her as he walked around from behind the desk. “All of you, come with me please. We'll let the king decide. This is too big a choice for a mere administrator such as myself to make.”
Hallic and the others stood up and followed the seneschal out of the room. He turned left and walked quickly down the hallway, deeper into the palace. The trio silently walked along behind him.
They passed several intersections where guards stood on duty. Falder said nothing to them, but Mel saw the looks of surprise on their faces as the seneschal swept past them with the group in tow. Apparently the sight of Falder leading three strangers through the palace was new to them.
Finally they stopped at a door where two royal guardsmen were stationed, one on either side of it. Mel recognized the entrance to the king's chambers, the same rooms that she had entered surreptitiously less than two days before. At that time, she'd managed to sneak in while the guards were on a shift change. Now she would be entering on official business. It felt almost indecent.
“Is his majesty within?” the seneschal asked one of the guards.
The dwarf nodded.
“Yes sir,” he replied as he stared past the seneschal at the others. “He is meeting with Jergen Moss and Pieter Elbon at the moment.”
“Ah good,” Falder replied. “They should all hear what we have to say. Open the door, please.”
“Um, Seneschal, we have orders that the king does not want to be disturbed,” the other guard said. She sounded nervous.
Falder glowered at both of the warriors.
“Open. The. Door.” he repeated slowly.
After another moment's hesitation, the first guard nodded again.
“Yes sir,” he said and banged a fist on his chest.
He turned around and opened the heavy door, then both guards stepped back to allow the group to enter.
“Thank you,” Falder told him with a brief smile. “I assure you that the king will want to see me and my guests.”
“As you say, sir,” the guard replied stiffly. “Please go in.”
The entry room of the royal chambers was empty, but the group could hear the mutter of conversation echoing from the hallway that led out of the room across from them.
Falder followed the sounds, with Hallic and the others behind him. They walked through the library and down the hall until they reached the lounge and t
hen the seneschal motioned for the group to stop. He walked into the room and stood still, waiting to be noticed.
“Ah, Falder!” someone said jovially. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Thank you, my lord,” the seneschal replied with a polite bow. “I am sorry to interrupt you and your friends, but...”
“Not at all, not at all. Come in and have a mug of ale.”
Falder shook his head and glanced over his shoulder.
“I am afraid that I am here on official business, my lord,” he said gravely. “I have brought Hallic Barston and two others with me. They urgently need to speak with you. May I bring them in?”
“Hallic? What's he doing back here so soon?”
Mel recognized Jergen's voice and she almost laughed. Jergen sounded both surprised and a little exasperated to hear that Hallic had returned.
“It might be better for him to explain himself to you and to his majesty,” Falder told him.
“Hallic! Get in here!” Jergen bellowed.
The rogue sighed and walked past the seneschal into the lounge. Mel and Larin followed and then stood silently beside him. The mage glanced around the room curiously before he focused on the king and bowed respectfully.
Falder stepped into the room and then moved to one side to stand against the wall.
“Well, well, this is a surprise.”
Shandon Ironhand was sitting around a table along with his friends Jergen and Pieter. All of them had tall tankards of ale on the table in front of them.
Pieter smiled pleasantly at the visitors, while Jergen glowered at each of them from beneath his heavy brows.
The king stood up and walked around the table to greet his guests. He was dressed casually in a plain tunic and trousers and the only obvious sign of his rank were the gold and diamond trinkets braided into his thick beard.
“Welcome back, Hallic,” Shandon said as he shook hands with the rogue. “Mel, it is good to see you again. And Larin Dunnor. Well, well, this is a surprise. Come in, all of you, and have a seat. Would any of you care for some ale?”
The three visitors thanked him, but none of them accepted his offer. Pieter stood up and pulled three chairs over to the table that the king had been sitting at and then waved the trio over.
“Please sit and be comfortable,” he said with a chuckle. “And ignore Jergen's sour face. He always looks like that.”
Jergen growled under his breath, but smiled grudgingly at his friend's dig.
“Aye, he's right,” he told the group as they sat down along with the king. “Don't mind me. I spent too many years cracking skulls to look at the world as optimistically as Pieter does.”
Shandon picked up his tankard and quaffed some ale. Then he set it down and looked keenly at the visitors.
“Now, tell me, what is going on?” he asked them.
Hallic glanced at Larin, who motioned for him to speak. The rogue nodded and looked at the king.
“As you know, your son was spirited out of the city recently,” he began. “And, at the time, I told you that I believed magic was involved.”
Shandon frowned at him.
“So you did. And can I infer, by Larin's presence, that you were correct?”
“I was. Larin can give you the particulars, but one of his people has gone rogue, if you will pardon the expression, and is now working with the prince.”
Pieter watched them expressionlessly, while Jergen growled again but made no comment.
The king turned to Larin and the mage nodded.
“It is true, my lord,” he said, answering Shandon's silent question. “A woman named Cindra Ashlorn has, I believe, joined forces with your son and now protects him. Because of her powers, not even my people can find him. She has blocked us completely and we cannot locate him by magical means.”
Shandon fiddled with the beads in his beard and watched the mage thoughtfully.
“This is bad news, Larin,” he said. “But surely you did not travel to the palace just to tell me this, did you?”
Larin hesitated and looked at Hallic.
“Go ahead,” the rogue said. “There is no delicate way to say it.”
“Say what?” the king asked. “Spit it out, Larin. I prefer straight talk to people dancing around the truth, no matter what it is.”
“Yes, my lord,” the mage replied. “But I will have to tell you a little about Cindra and what she is before I can tell you what needs to be said.”
“Go on then.”
Chapter 9
Larin then related the same story that he had told Hallic a few hours earlier. Everyone listened closely, but remained silent until the mage was finished.
“So this witch is more powerful than you are?” Shandon asked Larin when he was done.
The mage shook his head.
“Not more powerful, my lord,” he replied. “But she uses the magic in ways that are hard to counter. Because she does not cast spells as we do, her power can be used much faster and in different ways. Simply put, traditional magic-users such as myself need to memorize and chant the proper incantations to invoke our spells. Cindra does not. In a battle between us, she would have the advantage.”
“So it would be like two warriors of equal skill in a battle,” Jergen mused, “But with one of them slightly faster and with better reaction speed, eh?”
Larin smiled slightly.
“Something like that,” he agreed. “But Cindra does have a significant weakness. Her ego. She believes herself superior to other casters, and that arrogance may one day be her undoing.”
“Aye, you're right about that,” Shandon told him. “Overestimating your skills is a good way for someone to fail, be they a warrior or a mage. So now that you have told us about this witch, why are you here in person, Larin?”
The mage looked at Jergen and Pieter before focusing on the king again.
“My lord, as I warned Hallic before we traveled to the palace, because Cindra is so powerful, and because she is now supporting the rebel prince, she may try to clear the way to the throne for him by attacking you directly.”
“What!”
Jergen jumped up and glared at the mage.
“You think that the witch would invade the palace and attack the king?” he asked, his beard bristling with outrage. “Magic-user or not, she wouldn't make it past the entrance. I guarantee it. The guards would bury her beneath their bodies if that's what it took to protect the crown.”
Shandon looked up at his friend and smiled. He rapped on the tabletop to get the enraged dwarf's attention and motioned for him to sit down.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Jergen,” he said calmly. “But if that was the actual threat, I doubt that Larin would even be here in person.”
He looked at the mage.
“Is that not so?” he asked.
“You are correct, my lord. Cindra's threat is much more immediate and it cannot be stopped by physical means. Simply put, she could Gate into this room right now, kill you with her magic and Gate out again without the royal guards even knowing that she had been here.”
“Witch or not, an axe blade between her eyes would stop her in her tracks, would it not?” Jergen asked angrily.
He patted the weapon on his belt.
“She'd never get the chance to cast a spell at Shandon, not with me here.”
“Sir,” Larin said delicately, “you are perhaps missing my point. Cindra does not cast spells as I do. She need only direct her powers at a target and the magic will do her bidding. No matter how quick you are with your axe, she would be quicker.”
He smiled ruefully at the king.
“Not to mention the fact that she would almost certainly be magically shielded if she entered the palace. Physical attacks would have no effect on her.”
“She sounds like the perfect assassin,” Pieter said thoughtfully as he stroked his beard.
“Yes and no, sir,” Larin said. “Powerful or not, she is still mortal. And her ego will always be her greatest vulnera
bility.”
He paused and then continued to speak somewhat reluctantly.
“I am also concerned that his majesty might be spirited away by Cindra instead of being physically harmed. If she transported him to a secret location, he would be at the mercy of her and the prince.”
Shandon rubbed his eyes slowly before looking at the mage again.
“I was not aware that your people could do something like that,” he said coolly.
“Yes, I know, my lord,” Larin told him. “Forgive me, but it isn't something that we wanted the population to know about. Many of them still fear us and our powers. Giving them even more reason to treat us with suspicion would be foolish. But I assure you that we did not conceal this ability from you on purpose. It simply never came up before.”
Jergen seemed close to erupting again, but the king held up a hand to stifle him.
“Peace, my friend,” Shandon said. “I believe Larin. If he wished me ill, he would not be here now and he certainly would not be as forthcoming as he has been.”
“Aye, I suppose that's true enough,” Jergen grumbled.
“So what should we do to protect the king?” Pieter asked the mage. “Is there a way to counter this witch?”
“I believe so,” Larin replied. “Which is why I am here. We will need to fight fire with fire, so to speak. Only magic can counter magic and so, with your permission, my lord,” he said to Shandon, “I would like to volunteer my services and the services of my people. We can shield you from Cindra's magical gaze, just as she shields herself from ours. And, if she somehow does manage to find you and enter your presence, we can guard you against her powers.”
“I thought that she was stronger than other magic-users?” Jergen said, sounding a little calmer.
“Not stronger, simply different, sir,” Larin told him. “There are a handful of us who could stop her. I am one of them. With the king's permission, I can set up a schedule so that he always has a mage nearby, just in case. Once this situation with the prince is resolved, and Cindra has been dealt with, we can withdraw our protection.”
“Mages wandering openly throughout the palace? Mages staying close to the king at all times?”
The Dwarven Rebellion Page 11
