The Hammer's Fall

by Summers, Derick

  “What are you doing here?” the voice was soft, yet carried an unmistakeable edge.

  Lan hadn’t even heard the woman approach.

  “Well?” came the voice again when he took too long in answering.

  Lan looked up from his crouched position into the darkness of Raeth’s hood. He swallowed hard. It was clear that she was not pleased.

  “Would you believe,” he finally replied. “I was worried and wanted to keep an eye on you? You know, watch your back.”

  Lan heard the heavy sigh escape Raeth’s lips as she reached down to retrieve her knife. She spoke again, this time the edge had softened.

  “You fool! You sweet loveable fool, go home!”

  Lan watched her disappear down the main street before finally returning the way he had come. He knew Raeth was right to be annoyed with him. That didn’t change the fact that he worried about her.

  The two would be assassins were definitely guild members, the tattoos on their necks had told her that.

  Hopefully, she thought. They weren’t ranked too highly or I’ll have some explaining to do when their deaths are discovered.

  Raeth reassessed her original plans in light of the new situation. She was now responsible for the deaths of two guild members, and though she was fairly sure no one had seen her, she couldn’t be absolutely certain about it. That meant that her welcome at the guild house might not be as pleasant as she was hoping for. There was too much risk involved and in her line of work, risk was something she tried to limit as much as possible.

  Instead of continuing on to the guild house, she made her way to a tavern with the assassin’s guild markings.

  Best to introduce myself slowly, she thought. Besides, assassins aren’t really fond of people just dropping by their guild houses.

  The tavern was crowded, as she had expected, and the burly doorman nodded to her as she entered. Behind the long bar that ran the length of the right wall stood a monster of a man in a leather apron tending bar. He had a certain dangerous quality about him and Raeth immediately placed him as a retired mercenary or soldier. She guessed he was probably the proprietor as he slammed down a tankard of ale before her. She flipped him a coin then turned to survey the room.

  The tavern was filled with off duty soldiers and travellers. The soldiers were loud and obnoxious, while the travellers were quieter, more cautious. Buxom bar maids served tankards of ale to the various tables, swishing suggestively as they slipped through the crowd. It amused her to watch the maids as they either narrowly avoided or narrowly didn’t avoid the pinches and gropes of the surrounding men. Raeth’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

  Taverns really are the same everywhere, she thought with a small laugh.

  At a far corner table, a richly dressed merchant spoke quietly with a figure in black. As she studied the black clad man he looked up and met her gaze. He nodded slightly in her direction before returning his attention to the merchant.

  Raeth sipped at her ale, enjoying the tavern’s atmosphere, as she watched the two men finish their business. A small pouch changed hands and the merchant rose to leave. The merchant quickly bustled past her and out of the tavern. Given the expression on the man’s face, she guessed he was used to more respectable establishments.

  It must have been quite the business to force him to come here, she thought.

  Raeth waited a few moments before approaching the now solitary figure. As she crossed the room, it wasn’t that a path opened before her exactly, it was more that the crowd didn’t push to slow her progress like it did with others. Raeth smiled in her hood, one of the perks of wearing assassin’s black.

  “Brother,” she spoke as she neared the table.

  “Sister,” he answered as he rose to greet her. “ Please, join me.”

  He gestured toward the chair the merchant had recently vacated. Raeth moved it slightly closer to the wall and sat.

  “Welcome to Tael,” the man continued.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “It’s good to find family in a new place.”

  The man chuckled softly.

  “So it is, so it is,” he said as he extended his hand across the table. “They call me Talon.”

  Raeth smiled as she gripped his arm.

  “Blade,” she replied. “And, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three: Of Gnomes And Trolls

  With the guards gone and the slaves left to their own devices, the mine took on a whole new dynamic. Very clear lines divided the various races in the chamber. Humans grouped together away from dwarves, dwarves kept their distance from trolls, while everyone kept away from the one or two ogres present. Only the gnomes mingled amongst all the races throughout the chamber, with the notable exception of the ogres, whom they pointedly avoided.

  Logan smiled to himself. His father had once told him that the one thing that ogres loved more than anything else in the world was the taste of gnomes. Not that they ate the little creatures, though Logan suspected that the gnomes might have preferred that. No, ogres liked to lick at the smaller creatures like a human child with a stick of sugar candy. He had thought his father had been teasing him, but given the way the big beasts eyed the little men, Logan figured that there was at least some small measure of truth in the story.

  Jarod and Logan, like a few others in the chamber, had found a quiet corner away from all of these various groups and spoke in hushed tones. For the better part of the last hour, Jarod had been explaining to Logan how he had come to reside in the mine. It seemed that Jarod was a relation of the current king of Tael, a cousin or some such. Logan really wasn’t following Jarod’s explanation of noble lineage all that well, but the jist of it was that he was too closely related to the throne and it was for this reason that when the old king, Jarod’s father, was on his deathbed Jarod met with an ‘accident’.

  This accident had supposedly killed young Jarod and left his cousin in line for the throne. With deep sorrow in his heart Jarod’s cousin had accepted the throne on behalf of dearly departed Jarod, and the very much alive Jarod had been sent to the mines where he would presumably suffer horribly before his eventual demise at the hand of some brigand or beast. He had been here for the better part of five years now and though he had taught himself how to survive, he had pretty much given up any hope of being rescued.

  “So,” Logan clarified. “What you’re saying, is that technically you should be on the throne?”

  “Technically,” Jarod answered with a smile. “Instead, I am king of nothing. Just another slave doomed to dig until death.”

  “We’ll see,” said Logan mysteriously.

  Jarod gave Logan a curious look, but Logan chose not to explain, an idea was developing and he wanted to think it through before he shared it.

  An angry bellow suddenly drew the attention of everyone in the chamber. The large troll from the wagon was on his feet and storming toward something in the far corner of the chamber. Everyone in its path quickly scattered.

  Logan was on his feet and moving before he realized it.

  “Don’t get involved,” Jarod yelled as he reached for his new friend.

  Logan shook Jarod’s hand away and ignored the man’s plea as he crossed the large chamber.

  “Well, at least he’s not charging armed soldiers this time,” whispered a voice in the back of Logan’s head. A deep rumbling laugh followed the words. Logan shook his head to clear his mind.

  Logan leaped at the massive troll and managed to wrap his arms around the beast’s body, effectively pinning its arms to its sides. The troll was less than impressed. It fought against Logan’s grip, muscles like cords of iron strained as the creature tried to free itself. Logan held on. His own muscles bulged in his arms as he held the larger creature.

  Then, the struggling stopped and for a brief foolish moment Logan thought it was over. He found himself being dragged toward the chambers stonewalls and he realized that he was just being optimistic again. Logan continued to cling to the angry beas
t. He had a sneaky suspicion that he knew what the troll was up to, and if he was right, it was really going to hurt. Yet somehow, the idea of letting go of the angry troll didn’t seem like the wisest alternative.

  Sure enough, when the troll reached the rock wall he turned and slammed his back against the hard stone. Logan released his grip at the last possible moment and slid down underneath his opponent. The chamber seemed to shake as the massive troll collided with the wall, stunning the creature for an instant.

  Logan looked up and saw his opportunity. Driving up from the floor, he drove the fist of his right hand up into the larger creature’s groin.

  The troll bellowed in pain and its large clawed hands came down to hold its groin as it slowly slid down the wall. Logan regained his feet and warily backed away as he watched the troll writhing on the ground before him. Slowly, he turned toward the corner of the room. There looking as stunned as he did relieved was Rimple Curmidgly, the trolls intended victim.

  “What did you do Rimple?” Logan asked in Tir’anish.

  The gnome looked from the troll to Logan, then back to the troll.

  “Nothing, Logan,” replied Rimple. “He just came at me. You know what those beasts are like.”

  The gnome was lying and Logan knew it. Moving more quickly than the gnome would have expected Logan grabbed the small man by the scruff of his neck. Lifting him from the ground, so that he was at eye level, Logan asked again.

  “What … did … you … do?”

  The gnome shrank back from the look in Logan’s eyes.

  “I told you,” he answered defiantly. “I didn’t do nothing.”

  “And, I think you’re lying to me Rimple. I don’t like being lied to. Now, tell me before I decide to give you to him after all.”

  Logan turned toward the troll, who had finally stopped bellowing and was now merely rolling on the ground holding his privates.

  “And you know,” Logan said with an evil grin. “I think he’s going to be pretty pissed off when he gets up.”

  The gnome paled at the thought.

  “Alright, alright, let me down.”

  Logan gave the gnome a dangerous look.

  “Just remember, Rimple, this chamber isn’t that big.”

  “Are you suggesting that I would try to deceive you, Logan?” the gnome said in feigned outrage.

  Logan snorted and lowered Rimple to the ground. Once free, he darted back to the corner of the chamber and pulled something out from under a pile of rocks. As he stood, he looked back at Logan and seemed to be considering his options. Logan raised one brow as he glared back at the tiny man. This seemed to help Rimple make up his mind. Slowly, he returned to Logan and extended his hand. The gnome held what appeared to be a silver bracelet.

  Logan took the silver object. It was about an inch long and cylindrical in shape with a small break running down its length. In Logan’s larger hand, it looked more like a ring than a bracelet, but it was definitely silver. It had an intricate pattern etched into it and Logan was surprised to find that the workmanship was actually quite good. He looked back down at the gnome.

  “I take it,” Logan asked. “This wasn’t yours to begin with?”

  The gnome flashed Logan a dirty look.

  “Well duh, I … borrowed it from our large friend there.”

  “And, how did he get a piece of silver like this into a slave mine?” questioned Logan.

  The gnome looked at Logan like he was truly the stupidest creature ever made.

  “Well,” he finally replied. “How closely would you search him?”

  Logan chuckled at this.

  “Good point.”

  Logan turned back to the troll who had finally stopped writhing on the floor. Cautiously, Logan moved over to him. The troll watched him closely, ready to pounce at any moment. Logan gingerly extended the small silver ring to the troll.

  “Are you trying to commit suicide?” a voice in the back of his head asked him.

  The troll eyed him warily and hesitantly reached out a massive hand and took the ring. In a flash, the troll drew his hand back.

  Logan left his arm extended and turned his hand in an offer of assistance. The troll studied it and then him for several moments before finally reaching up and clasping his large clawed hand on Logan’s forearm. Logan helped the large beast to his feet.

  The troll took the ring in his free hand and clasped it on the upper portion of this left ear. Never once did the troll take his eyes off him. Finally, with a snort of air he turned from Logan. Slowly, majestically he stomped across the chamber back to his bedding. Again, the other creatures in the chamber scattered out of his way.

  Logan watched the troll go and took a final sigh of relief. He turned back to the gnome.

  “Try to stay out of trouble, Rimple,” he warned.

  Logan made his way back to Jarod. As he walked, he could feel all eyes on him.

  “Are you absolutely insane?” was the first thing Jarod said as Logan returned, Logan just smiled in reply.

  Chapter Fifty-Four: Taking No For An Answer

  Lan’thor was not in the best of moods. He had been worried about Raeth out alone at night, only to find out that the woman was probably safer without him. He didn’t understand city life. He didn’t understand the dangers. In court or in the forest, no problem, those dangers made sense, they were expected. But, on the streets of Tael, late at night, he was at a loss. The fact that Raeth had caught him following her was bad enough. The fact that she had saved his life was down right embarrassing.

  The trip back to the palace took much less time than the one into town since he was no longer as concerned with being seen. He returned the way he had left, through the servant’s entrance, into the kitchen then out into the main halls of the palace. As he walked, he realized that he really wasn’t ready to go back to his rooms, especially with the prospect of explaining the evening to El. He sighed, he knew that he’d end up telling her about it eventually, she had become a good friend to him, he just wasn’t up for doing it right now.

  Instead, he decided to explore the rest of the palace. In reality, it was probably more like glorified pacing than actual exploring, but it gave him something else to think about for a little while anyway.

  The palace had settled down for the night and Lan had free reign to wander the halls at will. He avoided the king’s private chambers knowing that this was the most likely place to have round the clock guard postings, but even without that portion of the palace, there was still a lot to explore.

  He came upon a dark stair leading up into what he guessed was one of the palace spires. The strange symbols decorating the doorframe told him that he’d found Reese’s chambers and the thought of the old mage made him more than a little uneasy.

  Best to err on the side of caution, he thought. Besides, it doesn’t really seem like a good idea to disturb the mage if he’s resting – even less, if he’s not.

  Skipping past the stairs, he proceeded down the hallway. As he went, he heard the distant sound of yelling from up ahead. As was usually the case, curiosity got the better of him and he began tracking the sounds down the hall. As he drew closer he began to hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

  Lan knew from some of the serving girls that the hall he currently followed led to the general Siris’s chambers. He also knew from those same serving girls, that the general’s attentions were something that most people preferred to do without. Rumour had it that the man’s tastes were known to be somewhat extreme.

  In the distance, Lan could see light as it flooded out from the open chamber door at the end of the hall. The yelling and the slapping had become much more distinct and though he was pretty sure the general was probably engrossed in his games, Lan prowled much more carefully down the last few yards to the door.

  By the candlelight in the room, Lan could see the general, partially disrobed and apparently in a fit of rage. Before him on the bed, lay an attractive woman, her clothes were badly torn and the beginning
s of a bruise were already evident along her cheek. Her hair was brown in colour and her eyes were closed. She lay so still that at first Lan was afraid she was already dead, but he saw that her chest still moved as she inhaled softly.

  The general was in a temper and, as he took another swing at the woman, Lan flinched in sympathy. To his utter amazement, the woman didn’t react in any way to the abuse, no yell, no moans, not even a flinch, nothing. The general just seemed to get angrier.

  Lan knew that he should leave, there was nothing he could do without risking himself and his friends, but as the general raised his hand to hit the woman again he found himself stepping into the light. As he stepped forward, he cleared his throat loudly and the general whirled around to face him. The anger in the man’s face was clear, but as he stared into Lan’s eyes he forced himself to calmness.

  A smile that never reached his eyes, spread across his face as he stepped toward Lan.

  “Emissary,” he said coldly. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to this end of the palace?”

  Lan did his best to look sheepish, though he was certain that the general did not believe it.

  “I’m embarrassed to say that I got lost,” he replied. “And given the late hour I was reluctant to disturb anyone. When I saw light from your chamber I took the chance to see if anyone was still awake.”

  The general eyed him closely.

  “I see,” the general answered flatly. “Well, you’re in luck. Like yourself, I too am fond of the night hours. If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to show you back to your rooms.”

  “I wouldn’t want to spoil your recreation general,” Lan’s statement was more than a little sarcastic, but the general chose to ignore it.