by JA Andrews
“He’s been charged with treason against King Horgoth! He stole from the crown and is storing up wealth for the purpose of stealing the throne!”
Saren gave a little sigh of relief when Alaric and the others walked into the room.
Menwoth whirled around. “Why is that dwarf not bound?”
Douglon rolled his eyes. “Stuff it Menwoth,” he muttered.
Saren held up her hand for silence. “I’m not sure how King Horgoth runs his court, but in mine, things are run in an orderly fashion.”
Menwoth glared at Douglon but shut his mouth.
Another dwarf entered the room. His beard was streaked with grey, but his eyes were bright and he carried himself with the ease of a young man. Alaric had met few dwarves with grey beards. Nurthrum must be quite old, a fact that didn’t seem to be slowing him down.
“Nurthrum,” Saren greeted him. “Thank you for coming.”
Douglon nodded respectfully to Nurthrum.
Menwoth looked sharply at the older dwarf and shot Douglon a smug smile. “I didn’t know you had arrived, Master Nurthrum. I am so glad you are here. “
Nurthrum bowed to Saren. “Just this hour. I received a message from Her Majesty that there was an issue between some dwarves and she would appreciate as many opinions in the matter as possible.”
“We have much to do this afternoon, gentlemen,” Saren said, motioning for everyone to sit. “If someone could close the door, we can get this sorted out. Menwoth, if you could, in a clear and calm manner, explain your grievance against Douglon?”
Menwoth, with a quick glance at Nurthrum, stated his accusations again, this time, in a more subdued tone. Saren listened patiently, and Douglon, with a few snorts and shakes of his head, listened as well.
“Do you have anything to say, Douglon?” Saren asked when Menwoth had finished.
With surprising restraint, Douglon stated his own case.
“Nurthrum,” Saren said, “do you have an opinion on this matter?”
The older dwarf bowed. “Your Majesty, I have known both of these fine dwarves since they were knee high. I do not doubt either of their stories. Anyone who knows Douglon knows that he has no interest in the crown at all. It has been a trial to King Horgoth on many occasions that Douglon is unwilling to do anything related to the throne.”
Douglon straightened up proudly at this dubious support.
“I know that Menwoth also speaks the truth, that King Horgoth has indeed accused Douglon of treason before a full court.”
“Then what are we to do?” Saren asked.
Nurthrum turned to Douglon. “I have your word that the accusations are false?”
“Good Grayven’s Beard! Of course they’re false!”
Nurthrum nodded and turned back to Saren. “I will inform King Horgoth that the charges are disputed. If Douglon will agree to come to Duncave as soon as he can to present his case to Horgoth, I will vouch for him until then.”
Saren blinked in surprise at the easy solution. “Menwoth, are you willing to stand by Nurthrum’s decision?”
Menwoth glowered at Douglon, his mouth clamped shut. He gave a quick nod.
“Excellent,” Saren said with a relieved air. “Then we have a great many other things to discuss with the council. Thank you each for coming—”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” Nurthrum said, “We may have a slight problem convincing King Horgoth that this is the right decision.”
Saren leveled a gaze at the dwarf.
“Perhaps a gesture of good will to go along with the news?”
“What do you want, Nurthrum,” Saren asked tiredly.
“Kollman Pass.”
Menwoth looked quickly at Nurthrum, then a little too eagerly back at Saren.
The queen’s eyebrows rose. “Kollman Pass? You want the only western pass out of my lands? In response to this situation? The High Dwarf has been trying to get Kollman Pass since before my husband died. I’m not about to hand it over to keep one dwarf out of trouble.”
Nurthrum glanced around the room and his gaze stopped on Alaric.
“Rumors are flying about the palace, Your Majesty. They say a Keeper has returned and that he travels with elves and dwarves and that his presence here means there is great trouble on the horizon.”
Alaric watched the dwarf closely. Whatever game Nurthrum was playing, it was working. Saren’s eyes shifted apprehensively between the Nurthrum and Alaric.
“I was under the impression that it was important to you, Your Majesty, that Douglon retain his freedom in order to help the Keeper with whatever it is that is so urgent.” Nurthrum shrugged. “If it is not, then let us drop this discussion all together and arrest Douglon. King Horgoth can have the headache of sorting all this out, and we can continue about our day.”
Saren’s eyes narrowed as she considered the dwarf for a long moment. A sense of foreboding began to gnaw at Alaric. Saren hadn’t gotten any better at negotiating in the past two years. Nurthrum had cornered her. Saren couldn’t give the Pass to the dwarves. It was the only pass through the Scale Mountains. No one in Queensland ever used it, but the army had an outpost there. It was the easiest way for nomads to enter Queensland. The dwarves wouldn’t protect the pass. An army of nomads could be at Saren’s doorstep before she had any clue.
And the small castle Alaric shared with Evangeline was on Kollman Pass.
Saren gripped her hands together in her lap. “Perhaps it is time for an era of cooperation between our people to begin. There are two watchtowers along Kollman Pass. I want one company of my soldiers for each tower and guaranteed safe passage to and from them. They will be limited in their activities to the immediate area of the towers.”
Menwoth’s eyebrows rose and Nurthrum smiled widely.
Alaric opened his mouth to object. That was a terrible idea. In practical terms, if the dwarves owned the pass, there were limitless ways they could trouble and harry the soldiers. This would end with Saren losing the Pass completely. She had backed herself into a corner.
Before Alaric could speak, Saren turned to him. “There is one more condition. When you are finished with your current work, Alaric, you will return to court and remain here until I dismiss you.”
Alaric stared at her for a moment, then closed his mouth.
Nurthrum glanced at him in surprise, realizing at the same moment as Alaric that the negotiation had never been between the dwarves and Saren.
Chapter 32
It had never been Saren who was cornered.
Alaric couldn’t let Douglon be arrested for treason just because Alaric was reluctant to come back to court. He clenched his jaw and gave Saren a short nod. “When I am done with what I need to do.”
Saren let out a breath. “Nurthrum, draft up a treaty for the Pass. We will sign it, and you can take it to Horgoth with the news that Douglon will present himself and his case in Duncave as soon as he is finished helping Alaric.”
Alaric watched Saren closely, realizing that the lines on her face looked less like exhaustion and more like experience.
“Now,” Saren said, rising and heading toward the formal council chamber, “we have a council meeting to attend.”
The dwarves filed out of the room, and Alaric set his hand on Saren’s arm to stop her as she walked past. “You gave up Kollman Pass? Just to have me back here?”
Saren’s brow snapped together. “Kollman Pass is just one of the pieces in a complicated agreement I am working on with the dwarves. I’ve been planning to trade the Pass to them for a very long time. Frankly, I never thought I would get the promise of something so valuable in return.” She stepped past Alaric, the corner of her mouth curling up in a triumphant smile. “Once you’re finally back, I’ll take the time to explain it all.”
Alaric stared after her for a long moment, holding down the irritation forming in his chest. She had trapped him. She had played into what everyone thought of her and she had trapped him. Worse, she had played into what Alaric thought of her, c
omplete with sitting in the too-big chair. His irritation broke apart and came out as a huff that was very close to a laugh. His mouth twisted into a rueful smile. Reluctantly, he admitted she had won.
The council table was now full of soldiers in military uniforms, a small man rummaging through a pile of maps, and several others from the nobility. A woman with a large book opened on the table before her was glancing around the room and making notes. Brandson and Milly took seats at the foot of the table near the door. Douglon leaned against the back wall behind them. Ayda looked curiously at the people at the table and sat cross-legged on top of a huge chest that sat near a column close to the queen. Saren gave her a courteous smile as she took her seat, and Ayda beamed back at her.
Alaric walked over to his seat at the table and stood behind it. His black robe felt more conspicuous than before. General Marton, the stalwart leader of Saren’s forces, gave him a friendly nod. It was nice to see a familiar face. There were empty seats at the end of the table next to Milly. The woman with the book opened, who must be the current court scribe, looked at Saren questioningly.
“Duke Thornton and the southern dukes were invited to the council,” Saren said. She pursed her lips and tapped her fingers on the table. Then she glanced at Alaric. “Let’s begin, anyway.”
The woman with the book raised her eyebrow almost imperceptibly before raising her pen.
Saren cleared her throat and the room quieted. “Today, we welcome Keeper Alaric back to court after far too long without him.”
Alaric nodded to the queen.
“We also welcome his companions Brandson, Milly, Douglon, and Princess Aydalya of the Greenwood. Ayda brings us the news we have long feared. She is all that remains of the elven kingdom. The rest of her people were destroyed by Mallon.”
There was a collective gasp as the room looked quickly at Ayda and murmured to each other.
“Alaric brings us some more dire news,” Saren continued, bringing the room to order. She turned toward him.
Alaric decided to begin with the most straightforward. “The nomads are gathering to the west.”
The mapmaker started rummaging through scrolls, and the scribe began scribbling fiercely. “Where?”
Douglon walked up to the table. “They are rumored to be gathering in the valley below Mt. Dorten.” He pulled a map closer to himself. “This map is terrible. The valley is here. You don’t have it marked.” He pointed at a blank space on the map. “It’s large and flat with good supply of water and plenty of game. There are several ravines that lead to it from the Roven Sweep. A large force could gather there and be supported by the valley for the entire summer.”
The mapmaker began to sketch the valley onto the map.
“Rumored?” General Marton asked.
Douglon nodded. “The dwarves have been finding evidence of them since early spring.”
“And they have sent no one to check it out?” Saren asked.
“No, Your Majesty,” Douglon answered, looking apologetic. “The dwarves don’t think that the actions of humans are particularly important. I’ve sent my cousin to convince the king to look into it.”
Saren considered the map for a moment, then looked at the court scribe. “Didn’t Lord Horwen arrive at court yesterday.” At the woman’s nod, Saren turned to the guard standing near the door.
“Go find Lord Horwen,” Saren told him. She turned back to the room. “Horwen is Lord of Penchen. His lands lie here along the feet of the Scale Mountains. If anyone would have knowledge of that part of the mountains it would be he.”
General Marton leaned over the map, asking Douglon questions while the mapmaker scribbled notes furiously. The general called for and then sent a half-dozen messengers out of the room on assorted errands.
A few minutes later, the door opened and the guard escorted an elderly nobleman into the room, his cane tapping on the floor as he tottered off a bow toward Queen Saren. His doublet was black velvet, emblazoned with a white hawk. She motioned him to the empty chair next to Milly. He tussled with his cane for a moment, thumping it against the chair and table, before sitting. Queen Saren introduced the lord to Alaric.
Horwen blinked. “A Keeper! How wonderful!”
Alaric bowed his head slightly toward the man.
Queen Saren addressed Horwen. “These good dwarves bring news of nomads gathering here in the Scale Mountains.”
“Nomads? Impossible,” Horwen declared. “I’ve heard no such thing.”
“How many scouts do you have in the mountains?” Saren asked.
“None. Nothing ever happens there.”
Saren’s lips tightened. “If you don’t patrol, how do you know there are no nomads there?”
“My people tell me everything,” Horwen said expansively. “And I’ve heard no news of any nomads.”
Queen Saren’s lips grew even thinner.
“Nevertheless, Your Majesty,” Alaric said, “the dwarves are certain there are some nomads there.” Alaric glanced around the room again. He took a deep breath and continued, “The reason the nomads are especially troubling is that we believe a Shade Seeker is attempting to raise the Rivor.”
There was shocked silence for a moment in the room, then a rumble of conversation.
“What did he say about the Rivor?” Horwen demanded. “Speak up, young man! The Rivor died years ago.”
“Maybe not,” Saren said.
“Oh,” Lord Horwen said. “Oh dear.”
As briefly as he could, Alaric told the council about the sacrifice of the elves. Ayda sat close-lipped on the chest.
“How do you know this about the Shade Seeker?” General Marton asked.
“The Shade Seeker’s name is Gustav, and he traveled with us for a while.”
The general raised his eyebrow.
“No,” Alaric answered the obvious question, “we didn’t know he was a Shade Seeker.”
“We thought he was an idiot,” Ayda said.
“How did you figure it out?” Marton asked.
Alaric opened his mouth, but Ayda beat him to it.
“We had been looking for a treasure,” Ayda began.
“Ooh!” Horwen said. “A treasure hunt!”
“We figured out that he really was a wizard when he stole it right out from under us,” Ayda continued. “Alaric hadn’t told us it was a magical treasure created by a Keeper long ago. It turns out the Shade Seeker had been controlling each of us, including Alaric, in order to find it.” She shrugged. “Then the Shade Seeker flew off on his dragon.”
The queen turned back to Alaric. “That’s a lot of things that didn’t go well, Alaric. Do you know where Gustav is now?”
Alaric paused. “Ahead of us.”
“Do you know where he is going?”
Another pause. “I have some theories.”
Queen Saren sighed and sank back in her chair.
“I thought that man was a Keeper,” Horwen said loudly to Milly.
Alaric scowled.
“As did I,” said the queen tiredly.
Chapter 33
Alaric refused to drop his gaze from the queen’s.
“I didn’t begin this”—he waved his hand at the group—”treasure hunt as a Keeper. I fell in with a group searching for something I was interested in.” He paused. “And I had no where else to go.”
“Not even back to court where you belong?” she asked.
Alaric clenched his jaw, fighting to keep his voice calm. “I’m not done with what I need to do.”
“There’s more going on in the world than your problems,” she snapped.
Alaric closed his mouth, fuming. The rest of the room was perfectly still. The court scribe’s pen, scratching down the words, was the only sound.
“Stop being mean to Alaric,” Ayda said peevishly.
The queen’s eyes blazed as she turned to the impertinent elf.
“Yes, he did all those things,” Ayda said. “He even helped the Shade Seeker translate some troublesome runes
on the map so he could find the treasure.”
Alaric glared at her, and she shot him a cheerful smile back.
“And, no, Alaric doesn’t really want to be a Keeper. Well, most days he doesn’t. At this point, he wishes he could pass this off to someone else or at least get some useful advice instead of having to explain himself to people who didn’t even know there was a threat, much less know how to neutralize it.”
The queen stood to face Ayda, and Alaric rose, too. Douglon pushed himself away from the wall where he had been leaning.
Ayda slid off the chest and stepped forward into the light of a large torch. The room flashed with coppery reflections from her hair. “But there are no other Keepers to rescue you,” Ayda said in a quiet voice that filled the room. “And there are no other elves to sacrifice themselves to save your miserable race that did nothing but fall under Mallon’s power.”
Alaric glanced around the room. Every single face was staring at the elf. The scribe’s pen hovered frozen over the paper. Even Lord Horwen’s eyes were alert.
“So I’d suggest you stop posturing and ask Alaric what it is that he needs you to do in order to save your weak little kingdom from a threat that has destroyed far more powerful races than your own.” Ayda held the queen’s eyes a moment longer. Then giving the queen a cold smile, the elf sat back down on the chest.
Alaric let out a breath.
“Uppity little thing,” Horwen whispered loudly to Milly.
The look Ayda shot Alaric was fierce and, dare he say, loyal? He bowed his head to her and she grinned.
Alaric looked back at Saren, making his voice as calm as possible. “The nomads are gathering no matter what Lord Horwen’s people tell him,” Alaric nodded toward Horwen who was sitting back in his chair, looking confused. “And if Gustav succeeds in raising Mallon, you should be ready for an invasion.”
The council door swung open, and Duke Thornton strode in, followed by two other smug young noblemen. Thornton tossed off the slightest nod to Queen Saren before dropping into one of the chairs. He looked around the table, his eyes falling on the scribe’s book. Noticing that she had already begun taking notes, he scowled at the queen.
