The Fires of Starpoint Mountain

by Bill Albert

  “You saw her? She was in the guard post on top?”

  “As clear as could be. The days she assassinated the King will forever the etched in my mind,” he said without sadness. “Sometimes it’s hard to imagine it is already 15 days since that moment. I suppose everyone will remember exactly where they were one that hideous thing with the ghastly colored hair murdered the King.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Mekon said casting his memories back in time.

  “Where were you?” The Third Minister asked. “On that day that she killed the King? Where were you?”

  Mekon knew exactly where he was. He was at Gunter’s prison making sure Gallif was locked into the cell on his wagon. “I’m afraid I was searching the swamps trying to find her,” he said sadly. “Maybe if I’d gotten to her earlier.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, my friend. There was no way anyone could have predicted her ruthlessness.”

  “Thank you, my Lord,” Mekon said as he rose. “With your permission,” he asked nodding to the door.

  “Of course,” the Third Minister said. He relaxed in his chair hoping that the closed-door would prevent Mekon from hearing his laughter as he left.

  Feeling more relaxed than he had been in a long time he decided not to go to the torture chamber and returned to his private quarters instead. He always felt that it was easier to keep what he wanted private in a small apartment rather than in one of the houses are palaces in Spring Field. There were only three others who could get into his inner sanctum and he found one of them waiting inside the door.

  “If you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you myself this instant,” he said.

  “Maybe I’m just a ghost come back to haunt you,” Gallif said with a laugh

  “On the other hand, maybe I would enjoy torturing you until you beg me to kill you.”

  Gallif laughed and said, “you know I’ve never given you the satisfaction of that.”

  He looked at her hard and finally nodded. “You probably wouldn’t,” he said and turned away. “At least wear some new clothes.”

  Gallif’s figure shimmered and sewer she was replaced by the wild haired and glimmering robed figure of Marassa.

  “This better?” Marassa asked.

  “Yes, much,” Crow said and sat down on his bed. “Now there is someone I can at least tolerate.”

  “When can we go look for her?” Marassa asked

  “Soon, once the next few days are over, and everything is set in motion we can use all of the hobgoblin’s in the city to explore the Dragon Burial Grounds.”

  “A massive force of brutes like that would destroy everything in their path.”

  “That’s the idea,” he smiled. “We can take what we need and destroy the rest. The next King will not need anything else. I will also need more of your kind. Many of my agents are missing and I need them replaced soon.”

  “I love it when you talk like that,” she said crawling under the bed is sitting next to him. “Will my kind be able to join society and live like everyone else?”

  “Of course,” he said. “Though I don’t understand why shifters would want to. How many of you already live in secret?”

  “Some of us do. “I still think you should have let me shift into the King and take control that way. It would’ve been much easier.”

  “Not in Spring Field,” he shook his head. “With all the protective and attention casts a shifter would be exposed quickly. Especially around the King.”

  Marassa sighed and nodded regretfully. Then she smiled as a new idea came to her and there was a shimmer over her as she’s changed shape again and asked, “what about our kind?”

  “No,” he said and added a kiss. “That kind will never be seen in the light.”

  ***

  The First Minister sat back uncomfortably as light grew on the horizon. The Fifth Minister and the six Minister joined him as the son shown directly at them and the Third Minister, the eighth Minister in the Ninth Minister were in place before the suns face shown complete. Soon after the Second Minister and the six Minister came up the stairs and the circle, as it could exist for now, was complete. “I believe you have a nomination,” the First Minister said without moving.

  As usual, even with no physical indication, they all knew who he was talking to. The Ninth Minister stood in face of all.

  “I nominate a learned scholar who we all know and trust. Someone who’s own words have trained us and guided us to these chairs. Someone whose integrity cannot be questioned and who, I am sure of it, you all hold in the greatest regard.

  “I nominate Ada Pasca, to be given the throne.” He was surprised that there were no outbursts of any kind for or against his proposal, so he continued. “Pasca has overseen the Royal archives for 47 years. He knows every decision made by the circle of Ministers, every judgment from the royal court system, and every proclamation signed by the King. As an historian, he knows how this culture has gotten to this point and can safely guide us into prosperity.”

  The Ninth Minister paused again and waited for a reaction from the circle. He was about to continue one another Minister caught them.

  “I object without prejudice,” the Third Minister said calmly and clearly. He waited for all but the First Minister to turn and look at him before he continued. “I have no doubts as to Pasca’s memory and value in the archives. I am also aware of the fact that he has not left the archives themselves for 32 years.”

  “Irrelevant,” the Second Minister said determinedly.

  “It is very relevant,” the Third Minister matched his tone. “How can he rule something he does not see? He has only dealt with a handful of people, if even that many, so how can he relate to the problems that have to be faced today?”

  “He has the knowledge of the past,” the Second Minister contended. “That will be more than enough to guide him through the facts brought to him.”

  “The King must be consciously aware of his subjects and react to them. It takes coming in focus. I say his senses are dulled from isolation and could not handle the throne,” the Third Minister said not backing down.

  “You’re saying that because he hasn’t been involved with the day-to-day events, he would be unable to understand them?” The Sixth Minister joined in. “What of our own members?” He asked waving his hand to the First Minister. “Do you dare to say that the First Minister is not fit to lead this counsel? He has not left this chamber for just as long.”

  “No, that is not what I’m saying,” the Third Minister said grinding his teeth together as he spoke. He looked at the First Minister, got no reaction, then turned to face the six Minister. “Our distinguished friend here has seen changes in our land from this very chamber. He is aware of everything from the subtlest changes in the crops on the southern farmlands to the fall of the mountain itself.”

  “What has Ada Pasca had to say in all of this?” The First Minister asked.

  “He will accept the kingship and serve if he is chosen.”

  “That is very well. Does anyone else object to his nomination?”

  There was a brief silence before the Fifth Minister said shyly, “without prejudice,” and roses hand. His statement indicated that he had no real objections to the nominee and just felt he was unsuited for the job. After a glance from the Third Minister the eighth Minister rose his hand as well.

  “Very well,” the First Minister said without looking at any of them. “We have our First nomination. You may give viewers now,” he said, and the Third Minister rose and stood before them as the Ninth Minister returned to his chair.

  “Very simple,” he said without emotion. “I nominate a giant whose loyalty to the well-being of the Giant Lords has been proven a countless number of times. He also, and this is most important after the tragic events of the past year, will bring with him the full support of the citizens of the land of Starpoint Mountain.”

  “Who is this deity?” The Sixth Minister asked sarcastically.

  The Second Minister stared at him
wide-eyed. Despite everything he never expected the Third Minister would go this far.

  “No deity,” the Third Minister said. “Just someone with the best interests of our kingdom at heart. I nominate myself to take the throne.”

  There was dead silence in the chamber as all the Ministers stopped to think about what he had said. The Sixth Minister scratched his beard absentmindedly as a torrent of thoughts and emotions covered him. The Fifth Minister wanted to object immediately but felt as if he was on the edge of Starpoint mountain knowing that his next step could be his last. There was the slightest twitch in the First Minister’s face, but they were all to shocked to notice.

  The moment was broken when the door at the bottom of the steps open and the only guard allowed to enter the chamber when the Council of Ministers was in session came up to their level, kneel, then bowed his head

  “I’m sorry, my lords, but something remarkable as happened. I felt it was so important you must know immediately. Please forgive me.”

  “You are forgiven,” the First Minister said he was as bemused as the rest and had no idea what could be so important. “Tell us.”

  “Gallif has arrived at the Gates, pled guilty, and demands her right of execution.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WEB OF SPIDERS

  By the time Gallif was tossed into her cell she was badly bruised. The casting on her red tinted armor was doing its job of healing her but the continued battery had taken its toll. She laid on the floor breathing heavily waiting to heal. It was, after all, what she had expected.

  She had confessed to assassinating King Paleth of the Giant Lords. Retribution from his loyal subjects was no surprise. Even some members of the hobgoblin militia had taken their punches and kicks at her issues quickly bound and yanked off the stage. Six of the guards hustled her into one of the underground passages and each of them had then taken an opportunity to dig into her side with their fists are the handles of their weapons.

  Not wanting to give them an excuse to kill her before her execution she fought the urge to struggle. She managed to control that until she felt a hand tickets cheap squeeze of her ass. Though her hands were bound the heels of her boots were still available and she kicked back high and hard. The molester, of all things usually noble dwarf, which survived but would be very careful of where he put his hands from now on. Assuming it work properly again.

  Whatever she could she had looked back at the figure of Acrufix who stayed with her all the way. She knew that, as hard as it was to watch, Luvin could not help her or stop them from beating her. He had to stay undercover and she was comforted by his presence whenever she saw the reflections of light on his shiny armor.

  She licked her lips and tasted blood running from her nose. One of the guards had taken a poker face and, though it was not broken, it was bleeding steadily. She rolled onto her stomach and let the injuries heal. Soon the bleeding stopped. She looked around the cell and there was nothing for her to use to clean her face. Except for a single torch very high up in the wall the cell was completely bare.

  She crawled the short distance to the wall and sat with her legs crossed and her back against the cold stone. She knew there was nothing to do right now would wait until a guard captain, the prison warden, or maybe even one of the Circle of Ministers came to interrogate her.

  “There’s got to be an easier way of getting executed,” she said to no one in laughed.

  ***

  Barely an hour had passed, her bruises had been healed by the casting but the scar on her face remained, when she was jolted by a sudden pounding at the door. It was so loud and hard the door rattled, and dust trickled down from the walls and ceiling.

  “Stand back against the far wall,” someone yelled. Though they were outside their voice was strong and clear and she sensed the threat behind it.

  Each wall in the cell was 5-foot-long and, taking into account the size of the door, this was the only safe way to stand and not get smacked when the door open.

  She walked to the wall leaned back against it.

  “Keep your arms and hands at your side,” the threatening voice ordered her, and she crossed her arms over her chest just to spite them.

  “We have armed troops out here,” the voice continued. “If you make any sudden moves her resistance, we will kill you immediately.”

  “Doubtful” she said aloud but decided she would make no moves just in case.

  After a pause the door was unlatched and swung open. She counted seven guards outside with either spears are drawn bows pointed her direction. A goblin, who wasn’t sure if she was more frightened by the assassin in front of her are the armed and angry guards behind her, carrying a battered wooden tray with a covered stone plate on it. Trembling she set the tray down on the floor and hurriedly backed away. The door slammed shut the second she was clear.

  Relieved that the rumbling in her stomach was just hunger and not tarna eggs she kneeled the Lord pulled the cover off the plate. There was a squeak from the rat inside and it went running as she slammed the cover down on the gutted rat that lay on the plate.

  She stood and state a respectful distance from the rat as is her into the corner looking for a way out. She realized that this was a high-security cell and neither her nor the rat were going anywhere.

  ***

  After getting separated from Gallif Luvin decided to try and find a place to stay out of everyone’s way and not get notice. This was a hard thing to achieve while wearing the armor of Acrufix.

  He thought about ditching the armor but discarded the idea, Gallif’s plan including him staying as close as possible and this was the best way to do it. He couldn’t help but wish he knew more of Gallif’s plan. She had told him very little, but he trusted turned off not to demand anything more.

  He decided then that it would be best to go into the lower levels. There would be fewer people there and he figured it would probably keep him closer to Gallif. Sometimes, just by waiting and listening, he heard guards talking about her and could narrow her location down. Occasionally, he only had luck to depend on. He knew absolutely nothing about the interior of Spring Field and felt a lost and confused Acrufix would raise suspicion. He asked nothing and walks only. The deception had worked and all of those who saw him, even Giants, stepped aside to let the mighty legend pass.

  He finally found a dark area to sit down and was considering taking off the helmet when its casts enhanced the vision saw there was someone in the shadow sneaking up behind them. He stood just as the person rose a hammer high to smash it down on him. He intercepted the weapons arc and held it with both hands they struggle for control and he kicked them away from the wall and they stumbled into the lighter area.

  “Rosario!” Luvin shouted when he saw his opponents face.

  She froze but did not release her grip on the hammer. He let it go and stepped away from her as he quickly removed the helmet. Her shock at his reveal was replaced by her always bright smile. She wrapped her arms around him, and they held each other tight. Finally, she released him with a kiss on the lips.

  “Luvin? Acrufix?” She stumbled a bit before getting control of her excitement. “Luvin, you brought in Gallif to be executed.”

  “Yes,” he admitted quickly. “That’s about all she told me of her plan. I was to bring her in and stay as close as possible for as long as possible.”

  “Wait a minute! Her plan was for you to bring her in to be executed?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded and smiled.

  “She has to be crazy to have some sort of plan like that.”

  “Yeah,” he left again.

  “Oh, shit, let’s go.” Rosario shrugged and took his hand to walk with her. She let him down a dark passage making four consecutive left turns and they ended up in a dark and damp room with stacks of boxes and rose of shelves as far as they could see.

  “This is the Royal Archives,” Luvin gasped when he realized where they were.

  “Yes, very rarely does anyone come down here. It’s an easy
place to hide.”

  “But I always thought there were so many casts and layer upon layer of guards.”

  “There are on the official entrance,” Rosario said. “The designers were wise enough to know that someplace this important would have secured different routes.”

  “How did you find this?” He asks her incredulously.

  “Someone on the inside,” she said and pointed. Luvin turned to see a giant figure in the darkness.

  “Is Jakobus, the noble dwarf, still involved?”

  “Yes, but not directly,” Luvin said quickly. He trusted Rosario so had no reservations about talking to the giant. “We were told there is a caster named Novelevon who lived in the swamps and occasionally worked with the Others. He’s brilliant, from what we are told, and Gallif sent Jakobus to try and contact him. To see if there is any way he could help remove the curse on the elves.”

  “What?” Rosario called and stop looking between the two of them. “What curse are you talking about?”

  “Before the Dragon war one side needed a workforce, slaves, whatever you want to call them, to run and protect their sanctuary, Starpoint Mountain. They couldn’t buy our capture enough of a forced to do it, so they put a curse on the elves. They took away their ability to choose,” Luvin said. “After that it was easier to seduce them into helping the dragons.”

  Rosario put her hands to her face and, even the pale light, he could see that her skin had lost color. She looked up with one hand brushing her hair back and the other on her stomach. “We hated them,” she whispered in shock. “We slaughter them...” She shook her head and took a deep breath. The truth about the elves shook her to the core. She turned in to Mekon then said, “certainly the Giant Lords would be able to counter casts that.”

  “That was what Gallif thought,” Mekon said ashamed. “Unfortunately, having a constant fear of the aquilus has been a powerful tool to maintain their, our, sovereignty.” He stumbled with the guilt of having been, even unwittingly, part of the deception.