The Hammer's Fall

by Summers, Derick

  It wasn’t actually very hard to do, since one of the king’s favourite subjects of conversation was himself. El learned that he had not in fact ruled for very long, only six years. In that time, the city of Tael had enjoyed a time of prosperity and wealth unlike anything that had come before. He of course took full credit for this prosperity and recounted at length how he had single handily ended the pirate problem around Tael as well as dealing with the bandits that raided caravans from the south and west. Since he had taken the throne even the mages to the north had learned to behave themselves. As he spoke, El came to realize that the king truly believed these things.

  When she finally asked him how he had managed it, he told her that it had all been a force of will on his part. All the divergent groups in and around Tael knew he was a man of strong will and none would cross him. It still didn’t answer the how, but El had begun to think he really didn’t know and it was probably best not to push him on the subject. She realized that the young man before her had not been selected to his position due to his great intellect. Most likely, it was for the lack of it.

  El couldn’t resist questioning the king on Tael’s slave trade. She explained that it was something she was unfamiliar with in her part of the world, but it seemed to bring in a fair amount of extra revenue. His eyes had lit up with glee at this subject and he quickly explained that the slave trade was all his idea too. Sure, it had existed before he took the throne, but he had perfected it. He had developed it to the level it was now having financed full ships with the purpose of hunting and capturing slaves. Before he came along, the slave trade consisted of criminals and people captured by pirates and bandits. Little profit was seen by the throne, but now, the throne controlled the trade and that trade was bringing in a great deal of wealth. Meanwhile, the city guard kept a tight reign on the peasants. They ensured that the general populace knew its place and kept them apart from their betters. All in all, it was a good time to be alive in Tael.

  Unless of course, you were a slave or a peasant, thought El.

  Breakfast finally wound down sometime shortly before noon, when a servant entered to announce the king’s luncheon companion.

  “Please, send him in,” the King announced as he rose to his feet and smiled at El. “El’dreathia, you remember general Siris. You met him the other night when you first arrived?”

  El rose to her feet and curtsied to the general.

  “Of course, Highness,” she replied as she faced those terribly cold eyes. “We met at that lovely reception you held on our first night here.”

  “So nice to see you again, general,” she lied with a smile she didn’t feel.

  “I apologize for interrupting m’lady,” he said politely. “Your Highness, I believe we were to lunch today?”

  “Quite right, general, Lady El’dreathia and I merely lost track of the time,” he confirmed before dismissing El. “If you’ll excuse us, m’lady, urgent matters and all that.”

  “Of course, Highness,” she replied politely.

  El curtsied again to the king and the general before making her way toward the door. She faced the king one last time before leaving.

  “Thank you again for a wonderful breakfast your highness.”

  Once outside the room, El stopped to collect her thoughts. Breakfast had been incredibly tedious and the king was a colossal bore, but other than that she knew very little about the general or the king.

  Standing outside the dining room, she heard the rumblings of conversation from the king’s dining chamber. Unfortunately, the voices were too low for her to make out what was being said.

  I can fix that, she thought with a smile and traced a quick figure in the air before her. The voices became clear and audible to her.

  “So? Did you find out anything?” said the general.

  “Of course, I did,” replied the King. “We had a perfectly lovely breakfast. She is quite a lovely girl. I think I might like her for my own when this is all done…”

  The sudden slap of a hand on skin stopped the king mid-sentence.

  “You idiot, stop thinking with your privates,” berated the general. “Did you find out how to get us to the elfin villages? Do you have any idea how much gold those creatures would bring us on the slave market?”

  “You didn’t need to hit me,” the King whined. “And don’t call me that. I am the King you know.”

  A deep rumbling laughter came from the general.

  “Ooooh, I’m sorry your great and magnificent highness,” replied the general, his words oozed sarcasm before taking on a low menacing tone. “Look boy! I put you into this position and never doubt that I can take you out of it. You’re here only because I allow it. Do I make myself clear?”

  The answer was little more than a murmur, but it seemed to satisfy the general.

  “Good,” continued Siris. “Now, since you’re obviously incapable of performing this simple task, I suppose I’ll have to take care of the girl myself.”

  A shudder of disgust passed through El. She’d heard enough, it was time to get back to Lan and Raeth.

  As El hurried off towards her rooms, a figure mystically allowed himself to step back into the canvass of the world. The old mage watched the elf’s retreating back with sightless eyes, a slight smile playing across his cracking lips.

  Chapter Fifty-One: Welcome To The Mine, My Friend

  The trip to the mine took the entire evening and well into the next day. Logan’s stomach was growling with hunger as the wagon finally bounced along the cobblestones through the main gate of the fortress. Lan’thor and Raeth had been correct, the fortress wasn’t large, but it was well built. A small force could easily hold it against attack.

  It would make the perfect base of operations for the revolt they were planning, he thought. Now, all they had to do was remove all these pesky people with the swords.

  The wagon was inspected by the guards at the gate then quickly waved through into the main compound. Logan noted that the guards seemed more than a little bored. He smiled to himself, lack of interest on the guards part would be good for him in the long run.

  This suicidal plan might just have a slight hope of success, he thought with a smile.

  “What do you find so amusing, Mr. Hammersmith?”

  Logan looked back to the gnome beside him.

  “Nothing in particular, Mr. Curmidgly,” he answered cheerfully. “Just, happy to be alive.”

  The gnome looked at him suspiciously before snorting loudly and looking back through the wagons’ bars.

  They were eventually off-loaded and lined up at sword point in front of the entrance to the mine. Their wrist and ankle shackles were removed and Logan took a moment to massage the soreness out of them. Three soldiers stood with swords drawn as a fourth carefully unshackled the troll’s arms and legs from the wagon. When that was done, a soldier outside the wagon slowly allowed slack in the leash around the creatures massive throat. The troll gingerly climbed out, the wagon groaning under the weight. Logan could tell by the way that the big beast moved that he had been beaten badly and was more than a little afraid of the men’s swords.

  The troll stumbled on the step of the wagon and sprawled forward onto the ground. The soldiers jumped back at the creature’s sudden movement. A large man carrying a whip stepped out of the shade of the mine entrance and moved to face the fallen troll. A look of disdain crossed the man’s face.

  “Get to your feet!” he bellowed.

  The troll bellowed in pain as the whip punctuated the large man’s demand. The man pulled his arm back for another blow only to find the whip held in place when he tried to strike.

  “I don’t think that is necessary,” Logan said quietly as he turned the big man towards him.

  Moving before the distracted guards had time to re-act, Logan stood within easy reach of the man with the whip. He held the leather lash secure in his clenched fist. The guards watched nervously waiting for the man with the whip to give them a command. Logan’s opponent
was not so calm. His face was red with rage and spittle sputtered from his lips as he spoke.

  “How dare you?”

  Logan stared evenly at the big man. He said nothing. The look in his black eyes was dangerous and the big man found himself taking a half step back from the strange creature he found himself facing. The big man forced his voice to be calm as he fought to create an aura of control. Logan allowed him to jerk the whip from his grasp.

  “I should kill you for that,” the man said. “But, you’ll suffer longer in the mine.”

  Turning away from Logan, the man faced the slaves. An armed guard stepped forward to usher Logan back to his place in line. Logan looked to ensure the troll was all right before allowing himself to be herded back to the others. The big creature had regained his feet and was looking quizzically at Logan. Logan smiled in response. The rest of the swordsmen had also regained their composure and were now watching both the troll and Logan closely. Logan turned his attention to man in front of them who had begun to bellow again.

  “I am Morgan Jones. You will call me, Sir.”

  Morgan Jones paced.

  “This mine is under my rule. I decide who lives,” he continued as he stopped before Logan and stared down at him. “And, who dies. You will do exactly as you are told. Is that understood?”

  The man didn’t wait for an answer. He turned on his heel and strode away toward the guardhouse. The slaves were then led through the entrance into the mine itself.

  The entrance to the mine was basically a large stone room with one wall missing. A wide iron gate occupied the missing wall and the ceiling stood twelve feet above the floor, at the centre of the room stood an iron cage about six feet by six feet. This cage was ten feet high and secured by cable to a pulley-system in the ceiling. Around the cage, stone pillars reinforced the ceiling. Logan figured that this must be like the cage in the dwarven city, probably used to bring ore up form the mine.

  Somehow, he thought. I doubt the humans are using a steam powered machine like the dwarves did.

  To the left of the cage was the beginning of a stair leading down. The stairs spiralled around the shaft and seemed to go on forever. It was to these stairs that the slaves were led.

  Rimple Curmidgly and the troll had the hardest time. The stairs were built for human sized creatures and in the flickering torchlight, the distances were hard to gage. Both creatures had more than a few missteps and Logan had to catch Rimple more than once.

  Finally, they reached the bottom. Logan had lost count, but guessed that they must be a hundred and fifty feet or more below the surface. They were led through another metal gate into a large chamber carved from the rock and lit by a number of small oil lanterns. Tunnels led away from the chamber in various directions.

  The mines’ overseer left the trolley of ore he was inspecting and came to meet them. He signalled for a couple of his guardsmen. When they arrived, the soldiers who had brought the slaves down returned to the surface. The overseer quickly divided the slaves and ordered his guards to take them to various areas of the mine. Logan was soon separated from the group and moved down the central shaft of the mine.

  He found himself standing before the body of a dead human. The guard opened the chains on the corpse’s foot and secured it to Logan’s own leg. Picking up the dead man’s pick, he shoved it into Logan’s hands. Another slave, at the guard’s direction, dragged off the dead body. Logan watched the guard leave in stunned silence.

  “Get to it man,” came an urgent whisper from the man beside him.

  The human was urgently motioning toward the stone in front of them. Logan swung the pick into the wall and large chunks of rock chipped from the stone. Slow and steady Logan began working the stone. The man beside him spoke cautiously.

  “So they just bring you in today?”

  Logan nodded as he worked.

  “That’s right,” he answered in hush tones. “And you?”

  “Gods, I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Seems like a life-time.”

  They worked in silence for a while, and then Logan asked.

  “How long do we do this?”

  He was really starting to feel his lack of food and in these tunnels the growling of his stomach actually echoed.

  “Till, we’re told to stop,” the man answered bluntly.

  What felt like several hours later, they were finally told to stop and line up. With the chains securing them together, there really wasn’t much choice. Logan did as he was told. He looked at the thin figure in front of him. The man was about average height with blonde hair. His back was to Logan and the permanent whip marks were clear across the man’s bony back. Logan grimaced in sympathy.

  “I’m Logan Hammersmith, by the way,” he whispered.

  “Shhh, you’ll get us noticed,” replied the man briskly. “Jarod… Jarod Laird.”

  The line shuffled forward and Logan eventually had a wooden bowl shoved into his hands. The bowl was filled from a large bucket and he was faced with the same white gruel he’d seen the others eating in the slave pens.

  “Eat quickly, before someone takes it,” Jarod warned.

  Logan followed Jarod’s lead and began to shovel the gruel into his mouth. Logan couldn’t remember the last time food tasted so good.

  Gods, he thought. I must really be hungry.

  After they ate, the slaves were led back into the larger chamber. The chain joining their leg shackles was removed, the gate to the mineshaft was locked and the slaves were free to move around the chamber. Jarod grabbed Logan’s arm.

  “C’mon,” he beckoned.

  Logan followed Jarod to a corner of the chamber.

  “Always good to get a stone wall behind you,” Jarod explained. “Know what I mean?”

  Logan gave him a quizzical look and followed his gaze. The two watched the other tenants of the chamber.

  The guards had left shortly after the slaves were freed, disappearing up the winding stairs and locking the gate behind them. Only two lanterns were left to provide light for the chamber.

  “Now it gets dangerous,” warned Jarod as the last guard disappeared up the stairs.

  Chapter Fifty-Two: Keeping Out Of Trouble

  As nightfall enveloped the city of Tael, and the palace prepared for another of its innumerable feasts, Raeth made her way quietly through the servants’ entrance and out into the city proper. Up until now, she had been staying near Lan and El to assist them should they need it, but they both seemed to have gotten comfortable in their roles and there was still work she needed to complete.

  She knew the palace like the back of her hand, but the city itself was a bit of an unknown. Her life and the lives of her companions could very well depend on that knowledge, on how quickly she could get them in or out of the city. She also wanted to get a feel for the criminal element in the city. Who reported to whom and how stable was the leadership. If it turned out that she needed to start working, it was best to know who to report to, or at least whose toes she’d be stepping on.

  That’s the goal of tonight, she thought with a smile. To get the lay of the land.

  Lan had not been thrilled at the idea of her out alone at night, which she found very sweet, if not a touch unrealistic. It had been El who had finally told him that he was acting like an overprotective fool and that Raeth was probably the only one of their party who had any business being out in the city at night alone or otherwise. This had finally stopped Lan’s objections, but she could tell that the elf wasn’t happy about it. She couldn’t help smiling to herself, he was so sweet.

  She was nearing the guild house she had seen on her way into town when she became aware of a presence behind her. She had actually been expecting to pick up an entourage at some point, though this was a little sooner than she’d figured.

  Well, she thought with a sigh. Time to go to work.

  She ducked into a dark alley and quickly scaled the rough hewn rock wall of the two-story building on the north side. She pulled herself onto the
roof and looked back for her pursuer. She almost fell off the roof in surprise.

  “That foolish idiot,” she murmured to herself.

  The figure stalking her in the darkness of the alley was Lan. He was cloaked, but the height, the build, and the way he walked, there was no doubt. She prepared to climb back down the wall, when movement at the street froze her in place. Two large cloaked figures silently blocked the entrance and studied Lan as he moved away from them.

  The man to the right moved forward, carefully staying lost in the heavy shadows. While he did this, his companion slipped back, peering around the alley entrance and ensuring that the light from the street did not silhouette his form should their intended victim happen to glance his way. No sound betrayed either of the men and Raeth had to admit that she was impressed. Lan seemed unaware of the men’s presence.

  Moving quickly, yet carefully, Raeth descended down the front of the building. Thankfully, the street was deserted or she would have been seen for sure. Normally, she would never have taken such an obvious route, but it got her down behind the man guarding the alley and it got her there quickly.

  The man was watching his companion close on their quarry and never heard Raeth approach behind him. His first realization that something was wrong came when a hand clamped over his mouth and something else tickled across his throat. Then he felt warm and wet as his life drained from his body. He was dead before his brain had fully grasped what was happening to him.

  Raeth lowered the corpse gently to the ground and moved for the other man. She knew she couldn’t make it in time.

  So much for subtlety, she thought and drew one of the fine bladed throwing knives Logan had made for her.

  “Aaargggh,” came the cry from Lan’s would-be attacker.

  Spinning at the sound, Lan came face-to-face with a man in a heavy black cloak, staggering not two feet away from him. The wooden handle of a garrotte wire clattered to the cobbled stones. Lan drew his sword and quickly ran the dying man through. As the body crumpled to the ground he saw the small metal handle of a throwing knife protruding from the man’s back. At the entrance to the alley, Lan saw a female figure dragging another body into the shadows. Following suit, he did the same with this one.