The Way of Pain

by Gregory Mattix

  “Ye’re thinkin’ about him, aren’t ye?”

  Kulnor shot to his feet, startled by the familiar voice. Unfortunately, his legs didn’t work in sync with his hand, and he muffed catching the axe. The top of its head bounced painfully off his wrist, and it clattered away across the smoothly milled paving stones.

  Sioned leaned over and picked up the axe. She studied it a moment and handed it back to him with a friendly smile. Her retinue of guards stood at attention a few paces away, alert for any threat the Hold might yet be concealing though chances of that were nil, for the deep passages had been shuttered and secured years ago.

  Kulnor felt his face grow warm beneath his beard, and he cleared his throat. “Aye, me queen,” he replied. “It must’ve been something comin’ here as they did, a mere dozen facing a great pit o’ scum beneath their feet.” He heaved a sigh. “I miss me brother. What about ye?”

  Sioned’s striking chrysolite-hued eyes grew pained, and Kulnor immediately knew he’d misspoken.

  “Forgive me… I shouldn’t have—”

  “Worry not, me friend. No one need apologize for me brother’s misdeeds, especially not ye. In response to yer question—in truth, nay. Waresh was a lot older than me, and we weren’t all that close. Me parents, though…” Her eyes took on a faraway, mournful look.

  Kulnor shifted nervously, unsure what to say. He decided chances were better than fair he’d blunder and stick his foot in his mouth yet again, so he remained silent. But his heart did go out to his queen, who was the same age as he, yet with an entire mountain’s worth of responsibilities on her sturdy shoulders. They had grown up friends and remained close after choosing similar vocations. Sioned had chosen to serve Reiktir as one of his Shining Blades, the order of paladins. Kulnor had entered the priesthood, although only a fool would consider a dwarven priest a slouch when compared to a paladin or other warrior. He knew he himself had not the sterling values and self-discipline needed to live up to the paladins’ strict code of conduct, but that didn’t bother him. He was comfortable with his lot in life.

  Sioned cleared her throat and regained her composure. She clapped a gauntleted hand on Kulnor’s shoulder. “I nearly forgot the reason I came to see ye. A couple miners got injured down below from a minor cave-in. I had hoped ye wouldn’t mind seeing to them.”

  She could’ve easily sent a messenger, but Kulnor was glad she hadn’t. Relieved to be given a task, especially one coming from his beloved queen, he bowed. “Of course, me queen. I shall go anon.” He turned and was about to head down to the mines when she called out, causing him to stop so quickly that he nearly lost his balance.

  “One other thing, Kulnor. Will ye join us at council meeting this eve? Tidings arrived by bird, and I’d like ye to be there to hear them.”

  “’Course I shall. Ye’ve but to ask.” He grinned and bowed again, seeing relief on her face.

  The fact that Sioned didn’t get along with many of the councilors was no secret —most of them were her father’s men who had remained on to advise her after her accession to the throne. In reality, they sought to manipulate and curry favor however they could from one whom they perceived as a young and naive monarch. They also strove to position themselves and their whelps as marriage prospects, something Sioned had no interest in, for the time being.

  “Gratitude, me friend.” She smiled as Kulnor waved and set off at a jog to locate the wounded miners.

  He took one of the lifts down to the upper level of the mines. The wooden scaffold had been replaced with fresh timber, the old rusted chains and platform also new and shiny. A pair of dwarves manning the lift greeted him, and one of them flipped a lever in the floor. The lift lurched into motion, the chain clanking as it moved through a series of pulleys. His descent was as smooth as polished granite once the contraption got going, and a moment later, he passed the vast forge level of the stronghold. Several of the forges had been rebuilt and were burning brightly, heat and the familiar clang of smiths’ hammers a welcoming music resounding in the great cavern.

  The lift passed beneath the forges and through a shaft in the floor, the comforting presence of stone close around him. A couple minutes later, he stepped foot on the upper level of the mines.

  Kulnor took a moment to admire the old granite statue of Reiktir. Five years past, the statue had stood guard over a pit of filth, where the wyrm once dwelt below. It was down there that Kulnor had discovered the remains of the epic battle. The cavern was blasted and scorched from the boombarrel explosions as recounted in Waresh’s journal. The wyrm’s bones had been picked clean by scavengers; the skull was currently mounted on the wall of the council chamber on the upper level. A sizable amount of treasure had remained, which was returned to the treasury to help pay for the reconstruction.

  And there, lodged in a chunk of limestone, Kulnor had found the hand axe, the only thing that remained of his brother. He’d been overcome with pride and sorrow both, for Kalder had fallen in battle, mortally wounding the wyrm while at the same time giving his life for his friends. Reiktir certainly smiled upon such a valiant death. Kulnor had taken the axe but left it in the condition he’d found it, in honor of his brother’s memory. Save for the edge, of course—that he’d worked with a whetstone until the notches were gone and it was honed to a wicked sharpness, as was proper.

  “Brother Kulnor!” The foreman, an older dwarf coated in gray rock dust, waved to him from one of the nearby tunnels. “It’s good to see ye. Two o’ me lads are injured—the ceiling broke loose on top o’ their noggins. Would ye tend to them?”

  “Aye, that’s why I’m here.” Kulnor slipped the hand axe through its loop at his belt and went to tend to the miners.

  ***

  “I mean to travel to meet this young human queen, Sianna Atreus, and converse with her regarding the future of the lands,” Sioned announced later that afternoon in the council chamber.

  The words were barely out of her mouth when a clamor of raised voices tried to drown each other out as her councilors shouted over one another.

  “Why should we care ’bout such human matters, me queen?” Lorbouk managed to outshout his fellows. He was one of the more powerful nobles on the council and one of Sioned’s father’s chief advisors, a dangerous political foe who wasn’t about to relinquish his grip on power. “I say let the humans fight each other with their foolish wars. Why should we get drawn into their problems?”

  “Because they asked for our aid,” Sioned replied simply. “Reiktir has shown me a glimpse of the evil threatening to sweep across the land if we are not devout and do not step forward to do our part in defeating it. These Nebarans have fiends o’ the Abyss fighting on their behalf. Certainly, all the people of Easilon can find common cause against such a foe.”

  Kulnor paid little attention to the customary bickering around him. He was staring at the skull of the great wyrm Dammerfang mounted on the wall. The white bone gleamed in the torchlight of the council chamber. Its eye sockets were as large as shields, its fangs the length of a dwarven broadsword.

  Reiktir’s beard—that monster could have swallowed a dwarf whole! Truly took some stones to battle that bastard. And Waresh managed to defeat it… with me brother’s invaluable aid. He felt a flush of pride at Kalder and his friends’ accomplishment while lamenting the fact he himself would likely never be called upon to perform such a great deed. Kulnor’s father had seen to it that Kalder’s name had been recorded in the Book of Deeds, a great honor among dwarves. Waresh’s name had been stricken from the record as a result of his crimes.

  “Has King Stonefist received the same summons?” Lorboud was asking. “Surely ’twould be wise to consult with him first. To show the unity of the Free Kingdoms of the Dwarves, naturally. When we act in harmony, the dwarven nation stands strongest—no foe o’ southern humans and their summoned fiends could harm us, especially with the strength of our citadels.”

  Silver Anvil Hall and Stonespur Citadel were the primary dwarven kingdoms, not counti
ng a couple small offshoot settlements that had broken away centuries earlier. The two kingdoms got along well in most matters and traditionally acted in unison in all matters military. Kulnor knew that not consulting with Rukk Stonefist before committing to such an action would be foolish.

  Sioned evidently knew that as well. “Aye, Lorboud—yer wise counsel is valued as always,” she said placatingly. “I will meet with Rukk, of course. The queen’s letter sounded as if their situation is dire. In the meantime, I plan to send a delegation soon to let them know the old alliances still stand and that we are invested in the futures of Ketania and the Free Kingdoms alike.”

  That set off another round of grumbling, swiftly rising to more loud squawking as they realized what she was proposing. The elders all began arguing in favor of themselves as the most suitable delegate to send on such an important diplomatic mission.

  “I’ve yet to decide, me friends,” Sioned said. “’Twill take some thought to decide on who’s the best choice out of so many well-qualified dwarves.”

  The queen’s statement only served to increase the boasting and arguing, all trying to make the case for themselves to be chosen.

  Kulnor sighed and wished he was back at The Notched Axe, a favorite watering hole back in Silver Anvil Hall, and filling his belly with ale rather than getting an earful of these loudmouth fools and their blathering. His head was starting to pound, listening to the bellyaching.

  As soon as I get outta here, I’m payin’ Zeck a visit.

  Zeck was the entrepreneurial dwarf who’d set up the first ale tent in the Hold, a temporary arrangement until more permanent accommodations could be built. Kulnor could nearly taste the rich dark ale and cursed his luck. How’d I get into this mess?

  His gaze shifted to his queen, who was looking at him. She gave him a weary smile, and at that, Kulnor’s unhappiness subsided.

  Aye, she be the reason. Me queen needs me. He sat up straighter and tried to look as if he were paying attention as the meeting dragged on.

  ***

  Later that night, Kulnor was staring into the fire inside the small hearth of his cozy quarters when a knock sounded at the door. His belly was full of a hearty meal and an even heartier quantity of Zeck’s ale, necessitated by the onerous council meeting of earlier. He frowned, for the hour was late, but he was still dressed in his priestly vestments, so he supposed he should answer the door.

  Mayhap another lad in the mines got injured.

  The two earlier had a few broken bones and cuts and bruises, but nothing beyond his ability to call upon Reiktir’s aid to heal. He groaned at the thought of having to traipse back down to the mines again but went to answer the door, hoping this wouldn’t take long. He had been nearly ready to climb into bed.

  A cloaked figure stood outside the door, cowl pulled low over his features. Kulnor poked his head out and glanced up and down the hall, but it was empty save for the person before him.

  “Can I help ye?”

  “Won’t ye invite me in?”

  The cowl tilted back a couple inches, and his firelight illuminated the smooth cheeks and chin of a maid, one stray golden curl shining brightly.

  “Me quee—mmph.” His exclamation of surprise was cut off when she clapped her hand over his mouth.

  “Shhh. I don’t want those fools knowing I came to visit ye. That’s why I didn’t have ye summoned to me chambers.”

  Kulnor stood there, not knowing what to do. Feeling a fool, he backed inside and beckoned her to enter.

  “I’m sorry—ye surprised me,” he said lamely. He kicked a dirty tunic into a corner then briefly straightened up his rumpled bed and carried a chair over before the hearth for his queen.

  Sioned closed the door behind her and took the chair offered. “Have a seat.”

  Kulnor pulled his second chair over, watching silently as she shrugged out of her cloak. Her curly blond-brown hair was pulled back in a simple thick braid. For once, she wasn’t wearing her armor but instead a dress, a rarity for her. He couldn’t help but notice the dress accentuated her curvy figure nicely.

  Sioned’s face was grave as she regarded him. “I wanted to ask if ye’d go as me delegate to Carran and take the measure of this human queen. I need someone I can trust to look out for our interests and not try to gain favor and enrich yerself in the bargain.”

  Kulnor was surprised at her request but happy to perform such an important task for his queen. “Ye’ve but to command it, me queen.”

  She smiled and patted his forearm. “Ye can lose the honorifics when it’s but the two of us. I’ve told ye before.”

  “Aye, so ye have. Ye’ve but to command, and I’ll go, me… er, Sioned. Same for any o’ yer people. A queen needn’t ask.”

  “I know, but yer a good friend to me… as yer brother was to me brother. I wouldn’t feel right commanding ye to go on this quest. It could prove dangerous in times such as these.”

  The thought excited Kulnor. “Reiktir will protect me, as ye know. ’Course I’ll go—I’d like very much a chance to venture forth on a meaningful quest… as me brother did years ago. I’d be honored.”

  Save for having ventured to Torval’s Hold twice and participated in a handful of skirmishes against goblins and orcs in the environs near the dwarven strongholds, he’d never had the opportunity to adventure any farther abroad.

  “I knew I could count on ye.” Sioned looked relieved. She briefly squeezed his hand but then sighed. “I wish I could go instead. All this constant bickering from the council—I know not how me father didn’t go mad listening to it all the time.”

  “Won’t they be angry ye picked me to go? I don’t want it to sully ye somehow… I’m a commoner, and I know they already don’t like ye keepin’ me around.”

  “I’m the queen. I decide who to keep around, not those bellyachin’ fools.” Cheeks flushed with anger, she glared into the fire. “I wish I could rid meself of the whole lot o’ them. Send them to King Rukk instead.”

  “Doubtful he’d thank ye for that. I reckon he’s got a whole nest o’ those rock vipers around him already.”

  “Aye, so it goes when ye’ve got the weight of the crown on yer head.” Sioned massaged her temples as if the crown was causing her a headache even then though the jeweled circlet was back in her chambers.

  “Ye truly believe it’s the right thing to get involved in these human matters? Only reason I ask is yer father was always against involvement with humans and elves.”

  “Aye, I do. Even had Reiktir not shown me what may come to pass, I think me father was wrong. More interaction and trade with the other kingdoms can only be of benefit, methinks. What are yer thoughts?” Her chrysolite eyes glimmered with the reflection of the fire as she regarded him.

  Kulnor cleared his throat and had to look away, lest he stare like a slack-jawed fool. Rarely had he seen her looking so beautiful. The dancing flames seemed a much safer object to focus on for the moment. He knew she was asking his opinion as a friend and not a subject or priest.

  “Reiktir has also shown me dark times ahead, though perhaps not in such specifics as he has ye. If this threat is so serious, then it would behoove us to seek alliances with the humans. If they get defeated, that would be bad for trade and security for our strongholds. Who knows, these invaders might even think to tear up the old alliances granting us our Free Kingdoms and decide to try to conquer us too.” He chanced a glance over at Sioned and saw that small line in the center of her forehead that indicated she was deep in thought. She knows all this already… Speak yer heart, fool. “Can’t be no harm to speak to them and take their measure, as ye’ve said. Besides, being selected for such a noble endeavor fills me with pride. Me brother would’ve jumped at the chance. As do I—I look forward to aid ye, Sioned. Ye’ve no stauncher friend than Kulnor Strongaxe.” He reached out and squeezed her hand before he realized what he was doing. He froze, wondering if he’d gone too far.

  Sioned only smiled then clasped his hand in both of hers. “Ye al
ways come up with the right thing to say, me friend. Yer words hearten me.” She released his hand and stood up, collecting her cloak. “Will ye be off afore morning so the vipers won’t know till it’s too late? I’ll have an escort provided, though ’twill be only a score or so of warriors. I need ye to hasten to Carran and make the best possible time. Reiktir seems to be tellin’ me time is short if we’ve a path to victory.”

  Kulnor walked her to the door. “Aye, ’twould be for the best that way, I reckon.”

  Sioned nodded. “Reiktir watch over ye, Kulnor.”

  “And ye also, me queen.”

  She paused with her hand on the door handle to give him a sharp look although a smile played at her lips. “Sioned.”

  “Aye.” He grinned at her, and his smile widened when he saw it returned in kind.

  Then she was gone as the door shut softly behind her. Kulnor sat down and stared into the fire a long time, remembering how its light shone in her luminous eyes, while his heart beat more rapidly than it had any right to.

  “Ye’re a lovesick fool,” he berated himself softly. With the excitement at the impending journey to Carran, he doubted he’d sleep much that night, but he had to at least make the attempt.

  Chapter 40

  Dirich’s announcement came as a surprise.

  A week or so after their ill-fated escape attempt, Elyas and Harlan had recovered well enough from their wounds under Edara’s adept care. The beatings had also taken their toll on their spirits, however, and neither had much appetite for another escape attempt. Instead, Elyas was content to not draw undue attention for the time being, and he hoped for the opportunity to see Nesnys and accept her offer. The other gladiators obviously held a grudge over the incident, regarding them with distrust and suspicion. In their eyes, Elyas and Harlan were worms once more.