by Alan Mundle
The banging on the other side ceased. Torbin just kept staring at the bodies before him. His friend, his best before he had met Soraba had ended his life to save him.
'TORBIN!' Soraba took hold of her love's armour, trying to shake him back into sense. 'Snap out of it, Torbin! What are we going to do? Canara will be here at any moment!'
Soraba's words managed to hit home. Torbin knew she was right. The alarms had gone off ages ago, and the Regent’s forces would be close. They were faced with the impossible task of raising the security door that had dropped and caused catastrophe. He knew that even if he managed to access the door controls from the wrong side of the cell, he was sure that the First's weapon had damaged them beyond repair. He regarded to door and the whole cell. It was designed to be impossible for any prisoner to get out. Torbin looked at what he had to work with, and the thought struck him that any ordinary prisoner wouldn't be armed with fire jets. As thick as the doors may be, they were never designed to withstand any extreme heat for long periods, and once Canara realised that the controls on the other side were lost, she would almost certainly attempt the same. He stood back from his side of the door, activated his jets while turning to the others. 'Fire everything you have at the door. With Dwarves on the other side, we will make it through soon!'
'We have been working for hours,' said Tenabin. 'Our Runes don't have enough Magic to make it.'
'But Torbin was very aware of this. 'I know old friend, don't worry. I have a new plan.'
Soraba put a gauntlet on Torbin's shoulder plate. 'If we do this, we will burn what's left of Borin.'
These words hit the Commander hard. Time was short, but he had to do something to give his fallen friend any last hope for his soul. He grabbed the top half of the body and pulled away from the door. He was surprised how little blood there was on his removal, the exposed flesh must have frozen instantly. Once he had moved the torso to the back of the cell, along with the bottom half of the First Warrior, he looked to the rest of his allies. 'We must make sure his sacrifice was not in vain. I pray that Canara’s Dwarves leave enough on the other side to bring back to the mainland for the Great Rock to guide him home.' Slowly and very reluctantly, Torbin activated his jets, pointed them towards the door and fired.
*****
An hour passed before the doors of the cell melted. Canara had seen her side glow red and ordered her Warriors to join the effort. When it was safe, she entered the cell with her team. She looked around. On the floor laid the three Dwarves and the other halves of those that perished. Tenabin sat with his back to the wall, his head
in his hands. Soraba lay in the middle of the cell floor with her arms around Torbin. Canara was aware that the two of them were involved, but this did not look to her like the embrace of two lovers. Quite the opposite. Soraba was rocking back and forth and could be heard moaning, her hands cradling the head of her Commander as he lay on the floor. The realisation quickly hit her.
'Check him,' she said to her Major.
He went over and crouched beside Torbin, looking him over, nudging him, checking for breath. After a minute, he got back up, turned to Canara and shook his head. She stepped closer to make her own examination. Looking at his armour, she found his Runes were missing. Looking around the cell, she found spent ones on the floor. Tenabin and Soraba were missing some of theirs' too, with only low glowing ones on their breastplates and helmets. Looking back at the body, she saw the Runes were all missing from it. She turned back to two workers at the door of the cell. 'You, get the Healers here immediately! And you, fetch Fire Runes, now!' After they ran off, she whirled on Tenabin. 'What happened?'
The old Dwarf raised his helmet and looked at her. 'One of your Warriors didn't pay attention and activated a security trap, sealing us off. We tried to blast our way out with our flame jets, but our power was already low when we came in here. The Commander sacrificed his Runes to keep us alive. It appears you got what you wanted, my Regent.'
Canara picked apart all of Tenabin's words. None of her Warriors would go anywhere near any technical equipment, certainly not things that were beyond their ability to operate. She lowered her head and looked back to Torbin, Soraba still rocking back and forth, moaning. The sight of it was too repulsive to her to pay them any more attention. She examined the mess of the cell and the state of the control panel. Something had gone amiss, but because Torbin and one of his own were dead, she had no proof of what really happened. She made to leave from the cell. As she approached the door, she looked back to the old Dwarf. 'You are wrong, Tenabin. If I'd got what I wanted, you and your friends would have been dead long before now.'
CHAPTER 21
REVELATIONS
News of Torbin and Borin’s death spread throughout the entire facility in the space of a minute after their bodies were carried out of the cell through to the Healing Cabin. The expedition members were in a rage, shouting bloody murder at the Regent and all of the First Battalion, forcing Canara to impose a curfew. All workers were to return to their cabins at the end of their shifts. Even in its half completed state, the facility was now, in effect, a real prison.
Canara put Tenabin in charge again, and he did his best to calm his Dwarves and keep them from harm. He had convinced Canara to let him take Soraba off duty to grieve. She stayed in her cabin, refusing to eat. After a day of this hunger strike, Tenabin ordered she be taken to the Healers. Two of the First took her against her will, though she was in no shape to offer resistance. They entered the Healing Cabin and dumped her on a table with a big sack of food, indicating to the Healers that she was to eat. The Chief Healer, Akabin, looked her over, turned to the Warriors and told them he'd obey.
When the First left, Akabin looked back to Soraba. The two Dwarves nodded to each other. Soraba got up quickly and followed the Healer to an adjoining part of the cabin deemed 'The Cold Room.' It wasn't hard to figure out why. There was no heat field in this part of the cabin. There was no need. The bulkheads were lined with tables, most occupied with dead Dwarves on the top, all covered in long white sheets. The room housed fallen expedition members, along with those of the First who had taken their lives. And their Commander. Soraba and the now armoured Akabin walked to the end of the space where Torbin lay. Soraba approached the table and lowered her head to her lover's body. 'You must be starving, love.'
A hand from beneath the sheet pulled it away. Torbin turned his head to Soraba and said, 'famished!' The Commander sat up on the table, wearing nothing but a loincloth. His chest heaved in the cold air, having held his breath upon hearing someone enter the room. He grabbed the bag of food from Soraba, along with his love's arm and hugged the freezing outside of her armour. When the two parted, Torbin saw Akabin stepping away, clearly nervous at the sight of seeing his Commander almost naked and not a frozen mess. He pulled the table sheet around him and began to devour a large cut of meat. It was cold, of course, but Torbin didn't care. I had just spent a day in a large freezer in the company of the dead, most of whom he knew well. No sleep for him that night. He stopped in-between mouthfuls to speak. 'What news, love?'
'All as expected. The Regent has her claws dug deep in this place, even Tenabin is showing signs of cracking. She's got everyone not in her own company working like slaves or locked up.'
'Did you get the message out to them?'
'Tenabin and Forin did, everyone knows what to do. But the cost of doing so was high.'
Torbin stopped eating and looked at his love. 'What happened?
'Canara caught up with Forin when he was delivering our messages. He was supposed to be with Dalara, assisting her in examining the Griftin. She decided to make an example of him in front of everyone, telling him that the son of a Lord must conduct himself better. She had two of her First… disciplined him.'
Torbin's words turned as cold as the room. 'Does he still live?'
'Aye, but the Regent wouldn't bring him here to the Healing Cabin. She keeps him at her side as an example to all the workers and the guards
of the consequences of disobedience and because she needs him to work the evil Magic in the Chamber. But everyone is as determined as you are to kill the vile troll when they learned what she did to the boy. All who I spoke to says that they will be ready and will fight in your name for vengeance.'
Torbin nodded, emotions tumbling inside his head. He wept inside for both Borin and Forin. He looked at Soraba and was proud, longing to be closer to her. He turned to Akabin. 'Is the armour still here?'
'Yes, Commander. They wouldn't care about what happens to it, thinking it's as vile as the poor Dwarves that died inside them, so far away from the Great Rock. I took the liberty of finding one your size with new Runes installed.'
'Thank you, my friend.'
'If you want to thank me, come straight back here when this is all over. I am overcome with confusion as to how you're still breathing.'
Though Torbin was just as eager to find this out himself, he thought it would be a miracle if they managed to pull off his plan and still come back alive, let alone back to work. He thought it best not to tell this to anyone. There was one thing left to do before they put his plan into action.
'Where is Borin?'
Akabin gestured to another table further down the length of the room. Torbin stood looking at it from a distance, his legs refusing to move. It's my fault he's dead, the Commander thought. Though his friend was with him to the end, he never wanted anyone to die. Now his best friend lay stone dead in pieces on a slab far away from the home he grew up in, from his family and The Great Rock. But he had to say his goodbyes. There might be no other chance before this day was done. He draped the sheet around him and slowly started to walk over to his friend's body. Before he got close, Akabin walked ahead and stopped him.
'Commander, if you are to look upon him, you'd best be prepared.'
Torbin looked back to Soraba who looked just as confused as he was. Both of them were there to see the horrific event and knew what state their friend was in. 'What do you mean, good Healer?'
Akabin looked back towards Borin's corpse. 'As you know, our duties demand that when a dead Dwarf is brought to us, we remove him of all armour and coverings that we might prepare his body as best we can for sending back to the mainland, in hopes that returning his body might help his soul return to The Great Rock.'
Torbin knew this well. When he had helped to save Soraba from freezing to death after their fight with the Griftin, Torbin had seen many dead Dwarves, both guards and members of the First being taken away by dismayed Healers to The Cold Room when it was agreed that they were beyond help. The treatment of fallen Dwarves where part of established prison rules that had been set long before even one worker decided to step foot in the Wastes. Torbin remembered re-reading that particular section of his contract that stipulated that bodies be returned to their families with dignity. The thought of dying in such a place was bad enough, but to think that it could be his eternal resting place was, as it was with other Dwarves, completely unacceptable.
'What's your point Akabin?'
'Sir, I and another brought Borin into The Cold Room for his preparation. I had to swear him to silence, considering what it was we found.'
Akabin walked over to Borin's table and removed the sheet. Both halves of the body lay face down. What Torbin and Soraba saw made both of them take a step back.
First, he saw what was left of the legs. Canara had apparently not bothered herself with taking the remains on her side of the prison door away before trying to burn through it. Borin's legs had been burned to a crisp and fused with melted metal from his armour. But Torbin could see what remained of the torso.
Gods have mercy! thought Tobin.
*****
'It works!'
Young Torbin hugged his new contraption to his chest with delight. He had spent the past month working on his latest mechanical feat inside the study, only bothering to come out when he heard the footsteps of First Father approaching from down the hallway. He knew that if he didn't leave the room at that moment, he wouldn't be allowed back in for a long time. He would put whatever he was doing back on his workbench and run out the study door before Rafarin could come in and tell him off. All he would get in those moments was a clip round the ear, telling him that Second Mother had his food ready half an hour ago or that it was two hours past his slumber. But every time First Father lead him away from the room, he could almost feel him laugh. Torbin knew that if he kept pushing the boundaries of what he could get away with, he would be sorry, but a part of him found it terrific fun. First Mother always disapproved, telling him that if he kept taking advantage of his parents, he would lose his coveted access to the study.
But it was all worth it. It was his Name Day, and he was determined to earn his present. Before his First Father had let him work with him in the study, he kept getting into more trouble at this time of year and suffered the dishonour of going without a present. His brothers and sisters would laugh at him, having always earned their Name Day presents, his brothers getting theirs by passing tests with training swords or his sisters by composing music or making a new dress. This year he was focused on using his new workspace to create something that was both difficult and sure to earn him his present. And he had. He placed his new device on the floor…
'Perfect, he thought. First Father is bound to love it-'
It just occurred to Torbin that First Father was late. He should have heard his footsteps by now. He knew he should be patient, he would come when he comes. But he couldn't wait anymore for his present. He wanted it and to show them all what he was capable of. He took the contraption from the floor and made his way out of the study. He looked around and saw only empty hallways. Strange, he thought. At this time of day, his home should have been a buzz of activity. His sisters should have been running around, making noise about something, his brothers fighting in the gardens outside, their training swords cracking against each other with unrelenting fury. But there was nothing. Until he heard a scream.
Torbin had never heard a sound like it. He had often heard his brothers hit and fight each other, but that was all in good sport. This sound was different. It had the hair on his back and front stand on end. He couldn't be sure exactly, but it sounded like a male made the noise and it came from the top floor of his home, the one belonging only to his fathers and mothers. It was not forbidden for him and his siblings to go up there, but they would usually ask permission. But there was no one around, and little Torbin could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. He gathered his invention and proceeded slowly along the hallway to the stairs. Before he began his ascent, he looked above to try to find something that might give him a clue about what was going on. For an instant, he thought he could see someone's shadow running across the dimly lit walls. Someone was definitely up there and in a hurry, but he could hear no voices.
Slowly, he began his climb. He got five steps up before he caught sight of Second Father making for the floors below. He quickly stopped when he caught sight of Torbin. 'Son, your parents have business that we must perform in private, but fear not, we haven't forgotten-'
‘AHHHHH!!!!!’
Another scream, this time louder and more horrific than before. Unprepared, the boy nearly dropped his contraption, quickly managing to catch it in time. He looked up past Second Father in hopes of finding something. He was sure that whatever was going on up there, someone was in trouble. Before he could even ask what was going on, Second Father was upon him and steering him back downstairs. 'Listen, Torbin, you need to return to the study. You have permission to stay in there as long as you want and read as many of First Father's books as you can get your hands on, but you must promise me you will shut the door when your inside, open the windows and do not leave until I come back for you.'
'But where is First Father?'
Second Father turned him around, pushed him back into the study and closed the door behind him. Torbin had been in many fights with his brothers and even more arguments with his parents.
But only now did he feel frightened. Not an easy to admit to himself, especially a Dwarfling. He stood still, looking at the door after Second Father, his mind racing with different scenarios as to what was going on. Then he slowly looked down at his prized contraption while making his way back to his desk. He sat down in the small chair and started to gaze at all his tools. Usually, he neatly packed away everything when he heard running in the hall and was sure that First Father was coming to inspect his work.
‘AHHHHHH!!!!!’
The louder scream brought Torbin to his feet so fast he knocked his chair over. He didn't care what Second Father said. Somewhere upstairs, a male was either hurt or in trouble. At that moment, he didn't care about his invention or his Name Day present. He didn't even care about the amount of trouble he was going to get in. He had no reason to believe that the one shouting wasn't First Father. He made for the door.
He started to climb the stairs, faster than before, not even caring about the noise he was making. When he reached the landing, he looked down the hall and strained to hear something. What he heard was strange to his young ears. At best he thought he could hear groaning that reminded him of the sound his brothers made after whacking each other with something or when one of them got knocked down. Suddenly, one of the doors opened. First Mother dashed out of the door carrying what looked like towels. Thankfully she rushed down the other side of the hall, utterly oblivious to Torbin's presence. As she ran in the other direction, she dropped one of the towels on the floor and didn't notice. But Torbin did. He had been in enough fights to recognise blood when he saw it. The towel was soaked in it. Throwing caution to the wind, he raced for the door and poked his head round.
He immediately wished he hadn't. Second Mother and Father were on either side of First Father, who was face down on the bed. There was blood everywhere, on the stone floor, on the sheets and flowing freely down First Father's back. Torbin's eyes could not leave him. Second Mother was pressing more bloody towels against his back that was covered from top to bottom in strange deep gashes. Torbin started to feel sick, could feel his body and soul objecting strongly to the sight before him. His legs lost their strength, and he found himself sliding down against the doorframe. Dizziness started to claim him, but his eyes remained locked on First Father. His face was contorted in pain, moaning in complete agony. He clutched at something in his left hand, a tool of some sort that he had never seen before. It was mostly a handle with the smallest blade Torbin had ever seen. Though covered in blood, Torbin could barely make out that it was little more than a needle of some kind. Quickly it fell from First Father's grasp onto the floor. When Torbin looked up, every Dwarf in the room was staring at him. He then heard a noise from down the hall.
