The Half Dwarf Prince

by J. M. Fosberg

  Hellen walked to the bed to look at the wound.

  “You made it back faster then I expected,” Frau said to Rundo.

  Rundo nodded, watching as Hellen inspected the wound. She put a finger inside his stomach and felt around. She pulled her bloody finger out.

  “The wound cut his liver. That was what was bleeding. It wasn’t a bad cut, and it is healing now. That is likely infected. That would explain the fever. I’m going to rub some stuff in and on the wound to fight the infection. The internal injuries seem to be healing fine. The muscles that were cut are going to take weeks, probably months, to heal. But right now we need to kill the infection. Once we stop the infection the fever should break. I can’t promise that he’s going to make it, even if we beat the infection. His body has been in shock and he is really hot. Even if we save him he might not be the same when he wakes up. A fever like that can do things to your brain.”

  Everyone just stared at her. She reached into her bag and took out a yellow salve, then rubbed it along the wound on the liver. She could feel the roughness of the damaged organ. After that she began stitching up Grundel’s wounded stomach. It was a bad cut. Grundel was lucky that a nicked liver had been all he suffered. The liver usually heals on its own, and there were so many other things that could have been damaged.

  “Help me sit him up,” she said to no one in particular. Jerrie and Jabaal sat the unconscious Grundel up in the bed. She took a small vial of liquid and slowly poured the liquid into his mouth. She waited for him to swallow. It wasn’t a lot of fluid. He coughed, and then he swallowed. She nodded to Jabaal and they laid Grundel back down. “That should help fight the infection.” Then she pulled out a needle, sucked fluid out of another vial, and injected it into Grundel’s arm. “That should help his body break the fever.”

  “What do we do now?” Frau asked.

  “All we can do now is wait and see. I will give him some more medicine tonight, and twice a day until his fever breaks. When the fever breaks we will know he beat the infection.”

  Grundel fought through Shinestone for at least the hundredth time. Every time it was the same. Every time they fought off the orcs. Every time Verrator tried to stab Frau. Every time he jumped in front of her, and every time she kissed him before he died. He didn’t understand why he kept living through this over and over. Why couldn’t he change it? If he knew what Verrator was going to do, why couldn’t he change it? Sometimes between the battles being replayed he would hear voices. Usually it was Frau, but sometimes it was Jerrie. New voices came now. Between refighting the battle he heard Rundo and Jabaal. He was trying to figure out why he was hearing those voices, but then he had to fight. The trolls had Shinestone. He fought through the tunnels, Jerrie saved him, and he saved Jerrie. Rundo had saved them all a bunch of times. He was really getting good with that druid stuff. Then it happened all over again. They saw that the dwarves of Tiefes Loch hadn’t even tried to take the entrance. He turned on Verrator, but he was already moving to strike at Frau. He dove in front of her, he felt nothing at first, but then he felt fire in his gut. He listened as Verrator told them about how big the dwarves of Tiefes Loch were and how they were going to take over all of the kingdoms. He was almost to the part where she was going to come to him. It was worth fighting through every time just for this part. But just as she turned to him everything changed. It was different this time. Everything was going dark. Was he dying before she could kiss him?

  Jabaal was sitting in the chair next to Grundel’s bed when his eyes started to open. They had all been taking turns watching and waiting for him to wake up. His fever had broken yesterday. Hellen said he was out of the woods. Now he just had to wake up on his own. She said it could be hours or it could take weeks. It took a day, and Jabaal smiled as he watched his Grundel’s eyes flutter open. Grundel looked around, trying to figure out where he was.

  “Are you dead, too?” Grundel asked Jabaal.

  Jabaal couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you think a paladin of Kalime would end up in a dwarven mountain in the afterlife? No, Grundel, I am not dead, and neither are you.”

  Grundel let the words sink in. He was sure he had died. He had even relived that moment over and over. He had relived it all.

  “Oh no.”

  Jabaal looked at him curiously. “You lived through a terrible wound that could have easily kill you, and you say, ‘Oh no’?”

  Grundel looked at his father’s best friend. “Frau. I thought I was dying. I—”

  Jabaal put a hand on Grundel’s shoulder. “I know. Rundo and your friend Jerrie have updated me. That is going to be a difficult situation.”

  “I will just have to leave here. I can’t be with her, and I can’t be around her and not be with her,” Grundel told Jabaal. He knew Jabaal had been a good friend to his father. He couldn’t think of a better person to talk to about this.

  Jabaal was smiling. “Grundel, there are a lot of things that are going to happen in the near future. Frau is going to need you, I think. I also think she will have her own opinion about you leaving. Remember, whether she thought you were dying or not, she expressed that she had feelings for you as well. She has also spent more time next to you since you were injured than anyone else. I don’t think she is going to just leave.”

  “I can’t be with her, Jabaal. She just became queen. My father was going to lose his throne because of me. I won’t let her lose hers.”

  Jabaal laughed. “And you think she is just going to let you decide that for her, huh? Listen, Grundel, I’m not saying you are wrong. I am saying that you are going to have to talk to her about this. From what I’ve seen, she’s going to have something to say. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to your father, either. A council of kings has been called. The other kings are coming to Shinestone. Why don’t you just worry about getting better now? There is still a lot of fighting to be done, from what I understand. You can worry about the future after we get through the now.”

  Grundel thought about what Jabaal had just said, and then he realized something. “We? Does that mean you are staying?”

  “You think I am going to let you all do all the fighting? Do you think I’m going to let your father go to war without me? I would never hear the end of it, plus Hellen has decided that she is going to be needed more here than she is in Freeman.”

  Grundel looked at Jabaal. He had been one of the most amazing fighters Grundel could have ever imagined. He had seen him fighting through the orcs at Evermount. He had been surrounded in the blue glow of Kalime. He had cut through orcs, leaping and diving and rolling. He fought like Jerrie, only enhanced with the powers of his god. He had lost his leg, though.

  Jabaal had apparently understood his suspicion. “If I can walk on it, I can fight on it. Kalime will guide my swords and give strength to my legs, real and fake.”

  Frau walked in the room then. She stopped just inside the door when she realized he was awake. She looked from Grundel to Jabaal. Jabaal stood up.

  “I’ll come back and check on you later. Remember what I said.”

  When the door closed behind Jabaal, Frau walked to Grundel’s bedside. He tried to sit up but a sharp pain in his stomach told him that was not going to happen. He hissed as air passed through his teeth.

  “Don’t try to sit up. The blade cut through your stomach muscles. It will be a while before you can get up. That means that you are going have to just lie there and listen to what I have to say.”

  Grundel was about to protest but she put a hand up and stopped him. “Don’t say anything, just listen. Grundel, I don’t know what has happened to us; I don’t know what could happen to us. I knew I felt something for you before, but when that sword went through you I felt lost. I haven’t known you long and I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know I don’t want to lose you.”

  Grundel was going to tell her how they couldn’t, how duty had to go first, but something stopped him. He remembered his last dream. He remembered how he felt when she didn’t kiss him.


  “Frau, I have been fighting my feelings for you. My father nearly lost his throne because of me. I don’t know what is going to happen with us, but Jabaal had a good point. I don’t know if we will even both make it out of this war alive. I am yours, as an advisor, a friend, and more—if you want it—until this is all over with. When this war is over, if we are both still alive, we can figure out what happens after that.”

  Frau stared at him for a long time, saying nothing. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

  “We do what we can now. We fight the Tiefes Loch. Whatever Bordin has for us after that, we will just have to take the healer’s advice.”

  “Who, Hellen? You talked to Hellen about me?” Grundel asked.

  “No, I haven’t talked to anyone, but when we didn’t know what was going to happen with you she said all we could do was wait and see. Now we don’t know what will happen with us, so I say we just wait and see.” Frau said to Grundel softly. Her lips were inches from his, and she could feel his breath against her lips.

  The door opened behind her and she stood up. Rundo ran into the room followed by Jerrie, Jabaal, and Hellen.

  Jabaal looked at them apologetically. “I told him to let you all talk, but he said I could move or he would send me flying down the tunnel. He looked like he was actually going to do it.”

  Rundo was already at Grundel’s bedside. He looked back at Jabaal. “I told you I would.” He looked back at Grundel. “How do you feel?”

  Grundel hadn’t really even had a chance to think about it. He felt the pain in his stomach, but he checked everything else now. His fingers and toes worked fine. It hurt to move anything below his waist, but he dealt with it. “Everything seems to be working. How long till I can move around?” he said, looking to Hellen.

  “Your liver wasn’t damaged badly, but your muscles were. Just based on how quickly you are already healing, I would say you can start getting out of bed in about a couple of days for a few minutes at a time. It will be a couple more weeks before you will be able to really move around, and you will feel pain in the area for months,” she told him.

  Grundel accepted the news. They all talked for a while before Hellen told everyone they had to get out so that Grundel could rest. Grundel tried to argue, but no one else was going to argue with Hellen. He lay in the bed alone. He was alive, he had Frau, at least for now, and he would soon have a war to fight. He needed to focus on his recovery. According to Hellen he would be able to move around by the time his father and the others arrived to start preparing for the first dwarf war in thousands of years.

  Epilogue

  It had taken Bergmann a month to make it back to Tiefes Loch, on the southern end of Gegend, the continent that the five cities were on. When he returned he found the king and the leader of the Black Dragons in Portwein waiting for him. He had sent Gurbed to meet with them when he left for Evermount.

  Portwein was the largest of the five cities and sat on the southern border of Gegend. It was the only city that actually sat on the water. Bergmann had no desire to deal with the humans. He felt that dwarves were the superior race. That is why they were stronger, smarter, and lived longer. The humans did, however, serve a purpose. He was going to take all four of the dwarven kingdoms, and it would be better if he could use the humans to do it—the fewer dwarves he lost, the better. Humans were naturally greedy. He knew he could feed that greed to get them to sacrifice their own people for him. He had been back for two days, but he had made the humans wait. When he walked into the room, the humans were waiting with Gurbed and four other dwarves.

  “Gentlemen, I assume you have been comfortable.” When neither of the humans answered, he continued. “I am Bergmann, king of Tiefes Loch. I asked you to come so that I might propose something to you. I am going to take over all of the kingdoms of dwarves. I would like you to help me.”

  The king of Portwein was the first to speak. “Why would we do anything to help you? Tiefes Loch has isolated itself. You do not trade with us. We cannot get metal or weapons or armor from you. You have never done anything for us. The other dwarves will at least trade with us.”

  Bergmann stared at the human until he shifted in his seat. “Tiefes Loch has isolated itself in order to grow its power. We have more dwarves than the other three kingdoms combined. We are stronger and we are warriors. The other kingdoms have held onto old beliefs that would have eventually led our race to extinction. Once I have taken control of the other kingdoms we will openly trade with Portwein, and Portwein only. Any of the other cities that want dwarf goods—any metal, any weapons, any gems—will have to trade with Portwein. On top of that we will give you five hundred thousand gold plugs. We will give you one hundred thousand of that up front and the rest when we take the other dwarf kingdoms. We will also help arm the army that marches with us. My dwarves started making weapons and armor for your people a year ago. We will offer you ten thousand pieces of chain mail, one thousand sets of plate mail, and thirty thousand swords. The swords we made are the curved sabers that your men use now. They are dwarven steel and won’t break on dwarven armor like many of your weapons might. It will be a decent weapon to fight with in tunnels. Big, long, heavy weapons aren’t effective under a mountain.”

  Bergmann saw the light in the king’s eyes. Five hundred thousand gold was a fortune. The armor and weapons he was offering were worth another. The king knew that this would make his city greater and more powerful than all of the other cities combined. “Two hundred thousand up front,” the king said.

  Bergmann stared at the king for nearly five minutes. Finally the king broke. “Fine, one hundred thousand up front. When I have the money and the weapons and armor I will send my men to you. My generals will answer directly to you, but my men will answer to them. I want the weapons and armor of the fallen returned to the city, though, when this is all over.”

  Bergmann had him. The greed of man was the most powerful weapon against them. This king was willing to sacrifice thousands of men for money when he already had more than he could spend. Humans were pathetic creatures.

  “Why should the Black Dragons help you?” the wizard, Dirigente, asked.

  “What is it that you and your wizards would like? Gold, gems, weapons?” Bergmann asked.

  “Do you know that all of your dwarves in Shinestone are dead?” the wizard asked nonchalantly.

  Bergmann looked at the wizard now. “How could you know that? How do you even know they were there?”

  “Calm down, dwarf. I played no part in the death of your dwarves,” Dirigente said.

  “Then how do you know they are dead?” Bergmann asked.

  “I had associates in Shinestone when your dwarves arrived. Two of my wizards were at the entrance when your dwarves finally made it there. You see, your dwarves were supposed to take the entrance while the others fought the orcs from the top down. The dwarves beat the orcs, and the Black Dragons that were with them, as they fought their way through the mountain. The two Black Dragons at the entrance traveled away when the dwarves came from behind them. But just before they did, they saw the dwarves defeat the orcs in the entrance, with the help of a halfling druid, and then saw your force enter the tunnel after all the orcs were defeated. When the Tiefes Loch dwarves began to charge the other dwarves, the halfling collapsed the tunnel on them. All of them.”

  Bergmann tensed. He immediately knew the story was true. The description was too close to the plans that he and Verrator had come up with, plus the wizard’s mention of the halfling druid meant that too many of the facts added up.

  “Then you should help me to avenge the Dragons you lost,” Bergmann said.

  The Black Dragon wizard laughed. “Those lives are not important to me. They died because of the decisions they made. I attack those that attack the Black Dragons to keep others from trying. Some Black Dragons who died fighting beside orcs in some distant cave will not have any effect on perceptions here.”

  Bergmann balled up his fist. �
��You would associate with orcs?”

  Dirigente smiled. “No more than you would associate with humans. Don’t look at me like that, dwarf. I am not the greedy, blind king over here. I know that you hate humans. I see your play and I understand it. The question for me is, does it benefit me, and how will it benefit me more if I help? Right now I see a dangerous war in confined spaces against dwarves that have at least a few in their number with the ability to battle wizards. You haven’t yet given me a reason to join your war. If anything you have only helped persuade me to stay out of it.”

  Bergmann stared at the wizard for a long time. He couldn’t thing of anything he had to offer that the Black Dragons couldn’t get on their own. He only had one option. He took off his armor. He undid his leather vest, and then he slid his shirt over his head. In the center of his chest was a circle with dozens of black tendrils coming out of it across his chest. It was the mark of chaos. It was the mark of Delvidge. Even the Black Dragon wizard was shocked.

  “The dwarves of Tiefes Loch are the children of Delvidge. This is the task he has given us. For three hundred years we have been preparing. Now we will take control of all of the kingdoms of dwarves. Any dwarf who will not convert to chaos will be sacrificed, as they were in Tiefes Loch.”

  He looked around the room to the other dwarves, nodding at each one. Each of the dwarves took off their armor and clothing, revealing heavily tattooed bodies. Each had the circle of chaos in the center of his chest. The symbol was never exactly the same—that was the embodiment of chaos—but the general idea of the symbol was a small circle with black tendrils of different lengths going in every direction. The other dwarves were covered in the black tendrils from the neck down.

  Dirigente lifted his sleeve and looked at his own symbol of chaos tattooed on his forearm. “The last army sent against these dwarves was destroyed. Why should I join you? How will you beat them?”