The Traitor and the Chalice

by Jane Fletcher

  Inside the wall was an enclosed courtyard lined by low stone buildings that could have been either stables or barracks. Ahead was a cliff face, breached by the mouth of a cave from which the river gushed, bubbling over rocks. Strands of vegetation adorned its edges.

  The road continued unchecked, plunging into the cave beside the leaping water and disappearing into darkness. A score of dwarves were assembled in the open. More lined the wall, while others peered from windows. The harsh shouts of the captain spurred eight armed warriors to form a guard around Tevi and Jemeryl. Further gestures indicated that the two women, with their escort, should proceed into the cave.

  By the time they had gone sixty yards, the light had faded to a sheen on wet rock. A turn in the road left them in darkness so thick it made no difference whether Tevi opened or closed her eyes. Only the ground beneath her feet relieved her of the sensation that she was adrift in a black void. The dwarves marched on. One pushed Tevi’s back.

  “Jem, can you see anything?”

  “It’s all right; I’m creating a light globe.”

  “Won’t the dwarves mind?”

  “Maybe, but it might be good for them to know that I can.”

  A glow blossomed in the darkness, growing into a steady ball of light. It illuminated the tunnel in a stark contrast of pale limestone and shadows, and glinted off grotesque stalactite formations that rolled down the rough rock walls in molten globules. The chain links of the guards’ armour threw back the light.

  Although they may have had no need for it, the dwarves were certainly aware of the light. Its creation was greeted by a burst of guttural muttering. There was no direct appeal to Jemeryl, but thereafter, the dwarves marched with crisper discipline and clearly viewed their guests with more respect.

  The road continued through echoing vaults and narrow galleries. For a long time, it climbed gently before descending by a spiral stairway cut into the rock. The river disappeared and returned repeatedly, thundering along eroded basins. It was finally lost, and its roar faded. Frequent passages led off from the main route. The dark shafts and fissures swallowed the beams from Jemeryl’s light globe as they passed.

  They had gone about two miles when Tevi noticed the nature of the cave change. The floor had always been as level as the streets of Lyremouth, but now the walls were also smooth. Increasingly, they met with other dwarves, who viewed the humans with suspicious scowls. Doors started to appear on the walls. From beyond the circle of light came the sound of voices, growing ever more numerous. Soon, they walked in busy streets where shouts from the guards were needed to clear the way. The crowds, surging around at waist height, made Tevi feel out of scale.

  They entered a wide thoroughfare. Columns were carved from the rock on either side. Stone faces glared sternly from friezes. This was clearly the heart of the city. The doorways were grander than any they had yet seen. The largest of all were huge double doors at the far end. A dozen dwarf warriors stood guard outside. They stepped back to allow the women and their escort to enter.

  Another corridor ended in a large hall with a raised dais at one end. The floor was polished to a mirror shine. The walls were covered with banners and racks displaying axes, bows, and spears. Embossed patterns ran across the ceiling. The armed escort melted into the shadows, and two officials took their place. These dwarves were also dressed in a military fashion, although their armour looked more ceremonial than warlike.

  “The royal audience hall,” Jemeryl said as she and Tevi were directed to a spot several yards from the dais.

  News of their arrival had obviously preceded them. The hall was a bustle of activity. Dwarves rushed back and forth before finding places around the edge. Everyone seemed to be shouting, but the sounds faded to muttering and then silence as an elderly dwarf was escorted into the hall. He stood proudly in the centre of the dais and glared down at his visitors. His armour gleamed golden. Precious stones glinted in the dragon motif that coiled around his breastplate. His stubby hands were heavy with rings.

  “The king?” Tevi whispered.

  Jemeryl nodded. “Hopefully he has an interpreter in his retinue. One way to find out.” She raised her voice. “Our greetings to your majesty. May your wealth be as great as your wisdom.”

  The guess proved correct; one dwarf stepped forward and loudly translated her words. The king nodded sternly in acknowledgement.

  Jemeryl continued, “We have come to offer help. A source of great danger has just entered your kingdom.”

  This time, the king replied in a harsh, guttural voice. “Zkorn kaligwi ritu ut drogn duhli. Zkorn throgal ritu lan duhli.”

  “Why think you we need warnings? Why offer you to help us?” the interpreter provided.

  “We come from the Protectorate of Lyremouth in search of a traitor who has hidden in your kingdom. It is true we want her for crimes against the Protectorate, but while she is here, she is a danger to you and your subjects.”

  “You have lose her. Us you want find her. You can go. If we find her in our land, we deal with her. We need not your help,” came the translated answer.

  “I think you might. The traitor is a Protectorate sorcerer, like myself.”

  When these words were translated, the king frowned and examined the two women, as if taking them seriously for the first time.

  “What help offer you?” The interpreter’s tone also reflected a different mood.

  “We can tell you where she entered your kingdom. If you find her and lead us to her, I will attempt to capture or kill her. She is a great sorcerer. It may be beyond my power to defeat her, but you lose nothing by my trying.”

  “Perhaps she is the good sorcerer. Perhaps you is the danger. What proof have you?”

  “None, except the evidence of my good faith in that I came to you. It is my enemy who has stolen into your kingdom like a thief.” Jemeryl paused while that was translated and then added, “And at the worst case, if you take my offer, you will have only one sorcerer to deal with, rather than two.”

  “We think about it.”

  The king gave one last, hard glare and then left the hall. All about, the assembly broke into a collection of confused melees.

  “I may not know the language, but from the king’s posture, I think the answer is yes,” Tevi whispered as they were led from the hall.

  “Of course. Stupid kings don’t last long among the dwarves. He can’t afford to have Levannue on his land any more than Bykoda could.”

  They were taken through a series of corridors. Tevi and Jemeryl were repeatedly obliged to duck under low openings. At last, they reached a full-height door and were ushered through. The room was obviously intended to be their quarters in the dwarf city. The saddlebags from the horses were already piled in the centre.

  The room was a comfortable size, although the decoration was grossly overdone to human eyes. Everything was covered in intricate designs and flamboyant colours. Gold and silver were abundant. The furniture was a haphazard collection, but at least some had been made with humans in mind. There were even gilt candleholders fastened on the walls.

  Once their hosts had gone, Tevi walked to a chair and sat down. It was somewhat lower than she would have liked, forcing her to sit with her legs out straight.

  “Do you think we’ll be here long?” she asked.

  “I hope not. I’d guess that search parties are being dispatched at this very moment.”

  “I hope they find her quickly. I’m not keen on living underground.”

  “And I don’t think the dwarves are keen on having us here. In fact, everyone will be happier once we’re away. I’m not sure how long I can put up with the decoration.” Jemeryl grimaced.

  “Oh, well, look on the bright side; it’s nice to be with men who look the part.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The bright colours and beards. I’ve never got used to men on the mainland shaving. It doesn’t seem quite right.”

  “They’re not men.”

  “All
right, they’re dwarves. But at least you can be sure they’re male.”

  “Actually, you can’t. Dwarves are hermaphrodites.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll admit most people get confused by the beards. But technically, all dwarves should be referred to as it, rather than he.”

  Tevi stared at Jemeryl and then slid down in the chair. With a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan of despair, she buried her face in her hands.

  Chapter Sixteen—The Cairn and

  the Remembrance

  For all the opulence of their room, Tevi and Jemeryl were virtual prisoners. A guard was always outside their door. Servants attended to them regularly, and occasionally, the interpreter came with questions, but they were never allowed out. The time dragged. For diversion, they requested chalk and a slate, and Jemeryl gave Tevi her first writing lessons.

  By Tevi’s estimation, it was their fifth day in the dwarf city when news finally came. Tevi was practising her letters, sitting cross-legged on the floor, while Jemeryl was stretched out on the bed, feeding breakfast remains to Klara. The door opened, and the interpreter returned in the company of two other dwarves. Tevi scrambled to her feet, expecting further questions.

  The interpreter was a small yet extremely rotund figure, stout even by dwarven standards. Unlike the others, he wore practically no armour—only a light chain surcoat with the securing buckles left undone, so the mail flapped over his bulging stomach. Tevi studied his girth with interest. She had frequently wondered whether he was pregnant or simply overweight.

  “We found the one you hunt. You get ready to go now.”

  Jemeryl swivelled into a sitting position on the side of the bed. “Does she know that she’s been found?”

  “How we tell what a sorcerer know?” The interpreter talked briefly with another dwarf. “We think not. We careful were.”

  “Is she far away?” Tevi asked her own question.

  “Four, five hours. No more. We give food. We take you there. What more you need now?”

  “I don’t—”

  Jemeryl interrupted. “Could you get my friend a lantern? I can make my own light, but she might need something...in case we become separated.”

  “We see. You pack now. The guide soon be here.” After rigid bows, the three dwarves left.

  “What did you mean about becoming separated?” Tevi demanded.

  “Levannue is an experienced sorcerer. She may defeat me,” Jemeryl replied while shoving items into the saddlebags. She stopped and faced Tevi. “Is there any point in me asking you to stay here?”

  “None at all.”

  “It would be wisest. Or you could go to the entrance and wait for me. If I didn’t show up within a day, you could get news to the Guardian.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “I’d be happier knowing you were safe.”

  “But how would I feel, knowing you were in danger? Anyway, it’s irrelevant; you’re going to beat Levannue.” Tevi picked up a bag and started to help pack. “Or I’ll never forgive you.”

  Their guides arrived as Tevi and Jemeryl were tightening the final drawstring. The ten dwarf warriors formed a silent, surly line outside the room. One presented a small brass lantern to Tevi. She attached it to the side of a bag after a meaningful look at Jemeryl.

  The captain of the dwarf band spoke. “We go now.” His accent was so guttural that the words were almost unintelligible, but it was a relief that he knew some of their language.

  The departure added little to their knowledge of the dwarf city. Tevi suspected that the route was chosen to avoid things the dwarves did not want them to see. Their hosts had shown an intrinsic love of secrecy. Apart from Jemeryl’s conjured globe, the only light was on an altarlike structure, which they glimpsed in passing, but their escort would not let Jemeryl stop to examine it.

  Soon, they left the inhabited region behind. For a time, they travelled on level paths hewn into the rock. The journey then continued into natural caverns with slick, sloping floors. The party scrambled, climbed, and slid their way for several hours until the dwarves stopped in a large cavern.

  The captain pointed to a narrow slit halfway up the wall. “In there. The bad woman. She sleep.”

  With no attempt at stealth, he scrambled up the rock, heedless of the noise from dislodged stones bouncing to the floor.

  “Won’t she hear?” Tevi asked, confused.

  “No. She sleep.”

  “What does he mean?” Tevi turned her questions to Jemeryl.

  “I’m not sure, but we might as well go and look.”

  “And rethink the plans for a surprise attack,” Klara added.

  They dropped their packs and followed the dwarf captain. The cracked surface presented an easy climb. When they reached the cleft, they saw that it was the entrance to a sloping shaft, so narrow that Tevi and Jemeryl were forced to squeeze through sideways. Eventually, they edged into the chamber beyond, where the dwarf captain was leaning against the wall, waiting for them impatiently.

  The space was fifty feet across. The floor was hollowed out like a dish; lines of stalactites ran across the ceiling. In the centre was a shimmering green sphere encasing Levannue, lying motionless on a limestone block.

  “Oh, of course,” Jemeryl exclaimed.

  “Is she alive?”

  “Yes. She’s created a force field and gone into a trance. There’s no need to whisper. We won’t wake her. The roof collapsing wouldn’t do that.”

  “How long can she stay like this?”

  “Indefinitely. Entranced sleep is easy. You can set when you want to wake. The drawback is that you still grow old, but that’s no longer a problem for Levannue. She could stay here a hundred years and not come out until everyone who knows what she’d done is dead.”

  Tevi studied the sleeping sorcerer thoughtfully. “Do you think this has been her intention all along? The reason why she came north?”

  “Maybe. These caves are a good place to hide. The dwarves might have found her, but they couldn’t get to her, and they wouldn’t have rushed out to tell anyone. And even if rumours did get back to Lyremouth, what would they have been? Simply a tale of a mysterious woman asleep in a northern cave.”

  “So can we leave her here and go for help?”

  Jemeryl thought it over. “We don’t know how long she means to stay put. She might be merely sleeping out winter and be gone by the time we return.”

  “Is that likely?”

  “She can’t be certain the ghouls got us. Even if she intends to spend decades in a trance, she doesn’t have to do it here. The safest thing, from her point of view, is moving to a new location come spring, before we can return with reinforcements. And we can’t risk losing her again.”

  “So what now? Can you break down the barrier?”

  “Yes.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Stay safely out of the way.”

  “There must be something.”

  “There’s nothing you could do except be a target for Levannue to attack.” Jemeryl squeezed Tevi’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I’m in this on my own. Come on, let’s go back. I might as well eat something first.”

  They returned to the outer cavern and found some provisions; however, neither woman had much appetite. The thought of the coming battle left Tevi’s mouth dry. Food stuck in her throat and was impossible to swallow.

  Jemeryl also made little attempt to eat. “I would be so much happier if you were a long way away.”

  “There’s no point. Levannue must realise that I’m the only one, apart from you, who knows she’s here. If she kills you, she’ll chase me all the way back to the Protectorate to keep her whereabouts a secret.”

  “Maybe.”

  In unspoken agreement, they stopped the pretence of a meal and packed away the unwanted food. Jemeryl lit the lantern for Tevi.

  “Whichever way the battle goes, it won’t take long. If I don’t come out after it goes quiet, you should sneak back in.
Even if I don’t kill Levannue, I might injure her. If she’s weak or unconscious it will be your best chance to finish her.” Jemeryl squared her shoulders. “Wish me luck.”

  Tevi wrapped her arms about Jemeryl. “Take care. I love you.”

  “I know, and I love you.”

  Tevi closed her eyes and kissed Jemeryl’s lips very slowly and deliberately. She did not want to even consider the idea that this might be the last time, but she could not stop herself from making mental notes, as if trying to impress on her memory how it felt to hold Jemeryl and feel their mouths joining together.

  Jemeryl was the one who broke away. She stared into Tevi’s eyes. “I’ll always love you. Please, never forget that.”

  There was nothing else to be said and no other excuse for delay. Jemeryl, with Klara on her shoulder, climbed to the opening and disappeared from view.

  *

  Nothing had changed inside the chamber. Levannue still lay in her enchanted sleep. Jemeryl viewed her foe uneasily. Surprise was on her side, but Levannue had years more experience. The crucial difference might be Klara. Using her familiar meant that Levannue could be attacked from two directions simultaneously. It might make all the difference.

  Jemeryl stroked the magpie and then sent her to a perch on the far side of the chamber. She grasped her sorcerer’s staff firmly. The force field was a knot in the sixth dimension, unbreakable by those who could not see it for what it was but simple for Jemeryl to unweave.

  The bonds stripped back. The force field ruptured in a storm of light and sound. Jemeryl was prepared for a booby trap, but even so, she was knocked to the ground. A bruising rain of broken stalactites fell. The blast left her blinded and deafened. She struggled back to her feet, rubbing her eyes clear of dust. Levannue was also recovering from her violent awakening. The two sorcerers studied each other coldly. Only dripping water broke the silence.

  “Will you surrender?” Jemeryl asked.

  Her answer was a slashing kick of raw power ripping through the ether, but the attack was miscued and easily parried.