by D. A. Adams
***
Krondious and Bordorn peered down at the Grand Courtyard from their hiding spot in a tunnel to the south of the Halls of Gronwheil. A handful of soldiers were with them, and the rest of the army were dispersed in a wide perimeter around the palace and Halls. If any of Master Sondious’s soldiers attempted to flee or if anyone made a threatening move at Roskin or his father, they would descend upon the Halls and quell the uprising.
Scanning the distance, Krondious calculated that he could sprint from the hiding spot to the Grand Courtyard in about twenty heartbeats, and while much could happen in that span, he kept telling himself Roskin could defend himself for that long. He hated being in the shadows; he would rather be right behind the heir. But Roskin was afraid his presence might complicate his uncle’s emotions, so he had relented and agreed to stay with Bordorn.
Roskin’s weapons remained with the pack horse, and as he walked the marbled path between the palace and the Halls, he looked vulnerable. Krondious had his large battle axe at the ready, and Bordorn had his shield strapped on and his sword drawn. The other soldiers with them had their weapons ready, also, and the tension in the cramped tunnel was stifling. While Krondious understood Roskin’s desire to end this peacefully and didn’t want any harm to come to his uncle, part of him wanted to crush the uprising with brute force to send a message. To him, diplomacy was a waste.
“I knew him when he was just a reckless kid,” Bordorn whispered. “Can’t believe how mature he’s become.”
“He’s a strong leader.”
“I had my doubts before, but now, he’ll be a good king.”
“He’s fair,” Krondious whispered.
“And just,” Bordorn added. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad he brought you with us.”
“That means a lot,” Krondious said, nodding at Bordorn.
He looked back at the Grand Courtyard where Roskin and King Kraganere had reached a metal gate that separated it from the pathway. In the center of the courtyard, Master Sondious sat in his chair, and behind him were two dozen heavily armed Kiredurks, including Captain Roighwheil. Just inside the doors of the Halls of Gronwheil, many more soldiers stood ready. Krondious tightened his grip on the battle axe and clenched his jaw. Up until this moment, he had believed in the plan, but now, a bad feeling overtook him, and he wished that he had insisted on staying near Roskin. He focused on the scene, watching for any signal that he needed to bolt from the tunnel.
***
Master Sondious remained as still as the stone walls while Kraganere and Roskin opened the gate at the far end of the Grand Courtyard and moved to him. He locked his gaze on the deposed king and didn’t blink. To his credit, Kraganere held his stare, but Master Sondious knew his former friend’s will was weak. While the force holding the Halls of Gronwheil was much smaller than the army surrounding them, they had enough provisions stored to remain locked inside for at least a month, and they had reinforced the Halls to withstand any siege Kraganere dared try this deep in the kingdom.
Master Sondious had no intention of fighting Kraganere’s force strength for strength. Instead, he planned to wear them down and break their spirit. In addition to heavier fortifications, the Halls now had a broad array of siege counter-measures, such as holes etched out for flaming oil and heavy crossbows. The soldiers with him had resolved to restore the kingdom to honor and power, and to a dwarf, including Master Sondious himself, each one was prepared to die to that end. In his heart, he knew Kraganere didn’t have such resolve.
As the pair neared the center of the courtyard, they held up their hands and spread their fingers to show they had no weapons. Then, they turned around slowly in a complete circle so that Master Sondious could see they had nothing hidden. He wasn’t concerned with that, however. Neither dwarf was the kind to stoop to treachery after requesting a peaceful meeting, but Master Sondious did enjoy watching the dwarf who had ordered his nephew beaten mercilessly humiliate himself in front of the Halls of Gronwheil. If the kings of old could have seen him showing such passive weakness, their beards would have fallen out.
“Master Sondious,” Kraganere uttered loudly enough for the soldiers around the perimeter to hear. “There is no need for this treason.”
“You are the traitor, Kraganere.” At the insult of not hearing the title “King” before his name, Kraganere winced. “First, you recklessly led this kingdom into war, and then you surrendered to a weakened foe.”
“Sondious, there was no surrender,” Kraganere said, exasperated.
“Is that so? These dwarves with me beg to differ.”
“Master Sondious,” Roskin said, holding up his palms. “Please, listen to reason. You know this cannot succeed. Please, end this now.”
“Roskin, this is not your fight.”
“I stand by my father. Any quarrel with him is a fight with me.”
“Sondious, Roskin is the one who wants to end this peacefully. I am prepared to raze these Halls, but he has convinced me to try reasoning first. You should thank him that you still draw breath.”
“One so far from his army should not hurl threats.”
“My patience is waning,” Kraganere said.
Master Sondious smiled. His old friend was reacting as anticipated. In a few moments he would give the signal for the army to sweep in, and that’s when Master Sondious would show the former king the newly installed crossbow batteries. While the archers shot down the first wave of Kraganere’s army, Master Sondious would retreat into the Halls and secure the door. Then, the real fight would begin.
***
Roskin’s temper rose as Master Sondious smiled at him and his father. The arrogance of this dwarf who his father had groomed for the council and had trusted all these years ran down Roskin’s spine like cold water. If he had had one of his throwing axes at that moment, he might have hurled it into the dwarf’s forehead and ended this once and for all. Instead, he focused on his breathing and reigned in his emotions. This was not a moment to lose his wits.
His father began speaking again, telling Master Sondious the conditions for a peaceful surrender, but Roskin hardly heard his words. The dark fear had suddenly risen, as intensely as ever, and his mind filled with the all-too-familiar image of Dorkhun in ruin. Buildings lay as rubble, and fires spread throughout the city. Everywhere voices screamed for help, and confusion shrouded everything like morning mist. As the dark fear overwhelmed him, Roskin stepped back and doubled over in pain.
Master Sondious and his father stopped talking and stared. He tried to warn of danger, but his voice caught in the bottom of his throat. All that came out was a raspy gasp. In the distance, a low noise rumbled deep within the earth, and in a flash, the images from the dark fear finally made sense – earthquake.
Without warning, the ground shook. All around, stone buildings snapped and collapsed. Roskin lost his balance and fell, but from the violent shaking, he bounced around and couldn’t steady himself. Screams of terror came from every direction, barely audible in the cacophony of rumbling and collapsing earth. A torrent of gravel and dust poured from the ceiling, thudding and stinging his back. He curled into a tight ball and shielded his head as much as he could. For what seemed like two lifetimes, the ground shook, tossing Roskin like small stones in a prospector’s pan. Then, as suddenly as it started, the shaking stopped.
***
Crushaw and Kwarck looked at each other as the first tremor shook them on the plains. Crushaw had heard stories of earthquakes from his soldiers, but he had never experienced one. Still, as the ground trembled, he knew exactly what was happening.
“What is that?” Vishghu asked, terror in her voice.
“Earthquake,” Crushaw said.
“From the Western Mountains,” Kwarck added.
“Roskin?” Crushaw called out, turning in that direction.
Being so far from the epicenter, the tremors were more a nuisance than a threat, but Crushaw had heard enough stories about tunnel cave ins to know the Kiredurk Kingdom
was in real danger and his friend’s life was at risk.
“What do we do?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Kwarck responded. “I can’t sense anything.”
Crushaw stared to the west, his mouth hanging open. Never had he felt so utterly helpless. Vishghu placed her hand on his shoulder and reassured him Roskin was okay, but that did little to alleviate his fears.
***
At the entrance to the southern gate, Leinjar was explaining to the guards what he was doing with Torkdohn and Jase tied up and bound to horses. The guards were torn about whether or not to let them into the kingdom. As they bickered, the trembling began, and Leinjar, who had grown up with tremors to the south, scrambled to drive his friends away from the gate. Large slabs of stone cascaded down the mountain slope and crashed around them. Inside the gate, screams of anguish rang out and then were silenced as dwarves were buried by collapsing tunnels.
As soon as the rumbling ceased, Leinjar jumped to his feet and asked the freed slaves if they were okay. None were injured, but near the entrance, the horse that had held Torkdohn stood alone. Jase was still tied in place, but the slave trader was nowhere to be seen, and his bindings lay in a pile on the ground. Leinjar ran a few feet down the trail and scanned for any trace of the fugitive, but if he had come this way, he had either been buried under a pile of rock or swept over the edge. Leinjar returned to the gate and saw the metal had been snapped from its frame and was twisted forward in a gap wide enough for any dwarf to crawl through. On the other side of the gate was complete silence.
“Let’s get this cleared enough to get the horses inside,” he bellowed at the dwarves. “We have to find him.”
The dwarves began tossing rocks away from the twisted metal. With only their hands, the work was slow and tedious, and it took more than half an hour to get through. Inside, a gruesome scene greeted them. Large sections of the tunnel had collapsed, and none of the soldiers was alive. There was just room for the horses to squeeze through the fallen rock, so Leinjar pressed forward to search for the escaped slave trader. The others stayed close behind him, all on guard for another tremor that might cause even more rocks to close the tunnel.
***
Molgheon had reached the base of the mountain when the earthquake hit. She rushed into a clearing to get as far from falling debris as possible and stared in the direction of the gate. Terror enveloped her as she thought about her friends in a cave in, and for several heartbeats, she debated heading up the mountain to find them. But she dismissed that notion because by the time she could re-climb the slope help would’ve come from elsewhere. Also, if she delayed and got hemmed in by the approaching army, Bressard would almost certainly die alone. She whispered a hope that the freed slaves were safe and then resumed her march towards Mount Roustdohn.
***
When Roskin doubled over, Krondious immediately thought someone had fired a crossbow at him, so he scanned the soldiers to find the assassin. Then, the shaking started, and Bordorn covered them with his shield. Large chunks of stone smashed against the thick metal, and Bordorn groaned with each thud, but the shield and his strength held throughout the tremors. As soon as the earthquake ended, the two dwarves pushed the shield up at an angle to make the rocks slide away and stood in the collapsed tunnel.
Several of the soldiers with them were injured and two had been killed, but the worst was the entrance was completely sealed off from the Halls. Krondious hefted a large rock to clear an opening, but Bordorn stopped him, screaming he might cause another collapse.
“Roskin and the king may be hurt,” Krondious yelled back, his deep voice reverberating in the tight space.
“We have to keep our wits,” Bordorn returned. “We can’t help anyone if we’re buried alive.”
Krondious took a deep breath and pulled himself together. From his childhood in the deep, he knew Bordorn was right. They needed to dig slowly and if possible brace the ceiling with something sturdy. He looked around for anything that might help, and a few feet back were a couple of iron bars stored there in case of a cave-in. Krondious carried them to the blockage and positioned them on either side of the tunnel. Then, he, Bordorn, and the three dwarves not seriously wounded formed a line, passing debris to the end and digging themselves out.
***
After the shaking subsided, Roskin lay on the ground and examined himself for any broken bones. He was bruised and scraped, but none of his wounds were serious, so he climbed to his feet and looked around. Master Sondious was still in his chair, brushing gravel and dust from his lap. Behind him, of the two dozen soldiers who had stood at attention, at least half lay prone in varying degrees of injury, including Captain Roighwheil. The Halls of Gronwheil, while battered by enormous boulders, seemed intact. Around the perimeter, none of the army was visible, and most of the areas they had been guarding were now covered in piles of rubble.
Then, Roskin saw his father.
The king lay crumpled in the dust, blood oozing from his head. Roskin dashed to him and found the laceration. A large chunk of stone had struck his forehead just above the hairline, and the gash was wicked. His breathing was weak and shallow, and his pallor had faded to ashen gray. Roskin ripped a strip of cloth from his tunic and pressed it against the bleeding. Within mere heartbeats, the cloth was soaked, and blood ran down Roskin’s arms.
“Well, well, well,” Master Sondious said, rolling his chair closer. “This certainly changes our meeting.”
“Please, get help,” Roskin pleaded.
“Now, Roskin, think of your studies. Why would I forfeit the advantage only to face exile or execution?”
“He’s dying. Please.”
“I see that. And according to the law, if the king is incapable of carrying out his duties because of injury, the heir assumes the role of acting king.”
“I know the law!”
As they spoke, the dwarves from inside the Halls came out of the building and moved behind Master Sondious. Most were stunned by the scene around them.
“So as the acting king, you have the power to save him.”
“What do you want?” Roskin asked, tears now streaming down his cheeks.
“Turn over all powers of the throne to me. No strings.”
“Swear an oath that if I do, my father will be seen by the best healers immediately.”
“Of course.”
“Swear that no one will bring intentional harm to him.”
“Done.”
“If you make both oaths, you will be acting king.”
Master Sondious motioned for his aide and then instructed the dwarf to run to the palace and find the king’s chief healer. The aide sprinted towards the palace, and Master Sondious then instructed another dwarf to go inside the Halls of Gronwheil and retrieve the Tome of Erycke the Just, the codification of all Kiredurkian laws.
Soldiers from the king’s army finally emerged from the tunnels and moved towards the courtyard. Master Sondious instructed Roskin to halt them, and the heir shouted for them to stand down. The soldiers obeyed but remained close to the scene. Dwarves from each side stared at each other in an uneasy and confused silence, but Roskin paid them little attention. All of his energy was focused on the blood flowing from his father’s wound. He completely removed his tunic and tore it into long strips.
At the sight of the criss-crossed scars on his back, soldiers from each side gasped and murmured to each other. Roskin pressed the strips of cloth against his father’s head and watched as more blood flowed from the gash. Beside him, after the dwarf returned with the Tome of Erycke the Just, Master Sondious instructed his soldiers to clear rocks from the courtyard. Time dragged to a standstill as Roskin waited for the healer. Finally, after his father had bled more than seemed possible, the Chief Healer arrived and knelt beside the king and heir.
“I can stabilize him,” the aged dwarf said, peeling back the layers of cloth Roskin had pressed against his father’s head. “But we need to get him inside the palace.”
Roskin motioned for the nearest soldiers to move closer and then instructed them to carry his father into the king’s private chambers. Master Sondious agreed, so the soldiers surrounded the wounded king and gently lifted him from Roskin’s arms. The heir watched, helpless and alone, as his father was carried away. Then, mustering his courage, he stood and faced Master Sondious.
***
Krondious wrapped his arms around a large chunk of rock and took three sharp breaths in and out before inhaling sharply and straining against the stone. As the rock lifted from the pile, his arms and legs struggled. He groaned loudly but hoisted the rock and tossed it into a clearing. As the strain released from his limbs, he bellowed a gutural sound that hurt his own ears in the tight space of the tunnel.
After that stone was moved, the dwarves could see well enough to make out what was happening in the Grand Courtyard. Holding a thick, leather-bound book, Roskin stood across from Master Sondious, who sat smiling in his chair. Roskin would read a few words and then Master Sondious would repeat them. Krondious strained his ears to make out the words, and after a couple of minutes got the gist.
“He’s handing over power to my uncle.”
“Where’s the king?” Bordorn asked, confused.
“I don’t know.”
Roskin closed the book and handed it to Master Sondious. Then, Roskin signaled to the soldiers to kneel, and those who had followed the special advisor and those loyal to the king obeyed. From his chair, Master Sondious grinned like a mischievous child who had just stolen a treat from the pantry while his mother’s back was turned.
