by Cindy Dees
Every chair at the table was filled, but for the grand one at the head of the table, and the people seated in them fidgeted. Until a tall door at the far end of the hall swung open, that was. Then everyone at the table stood and the commoners around the edges of the room knelt. Will followed suit clumsily and slid off the bench to the floor.
A herald loudly announced the arrival of Governor Anton Constantine.
Will peeked up from his kneeling position and was startled to see a richly dressed man wearing green trimmed with gold, balding and approaching middle age, step into the room. His chest was loaded with a gaudy array of blazons, most of which Will did not recognize.
But one of them caught his eye. His father had worn an identical one that night in Hickory Hollow when Ty had donned all his old armor and weapons. It was round, with a turquoise-blue background with an irregular brown shape in the middle. It looked like a map of an island to him.
The man strode down the long hall toward the council table, checking when another man stepped forward without warning and blocked his path.
Will could not hear what the fellow spoke of with the governor, but it looked like a heated exchange. The man was well dressed, mayhap a craftsman or merchant.
“Get out of my way!” Anton snapped.
The man ignored him, continuing to press his point obstinately. His discourse was cut off by the schwing of a blade clearing its sheath. Anton whipped out a golden short sword and struck, fast as a snake, running the man through the heart.
The unlucky fellow and his unfinished speech dropped to the floor as shocked silence fell over the room. Anton yanked his blade free, the gold covered with blood. The Heart adept started to lurch out of his seat, but Anton swung the tip of the bloody sword in the fellow’s direction.
“Sit.” Anton bit out the order as if the Heart man were no more than a dog to be commanded.
The adept sat.
Anton casually wiped his blade on the dead man’s trousers. A large pool of blood was spreading rapidly underneath the man’s torso, forcing Anton to step back from the bright red pool. The governor gestured a pair of soldiers over to dispose of the body. “When he resurrects—if he resurrects—fine him five gold.”
“For what offense, my lord?” one of the soldiers asked.
“For bleeding on my floor,” Anton replied dismissively.
Will stared, appalled to the core of his being, as the governor strolled the remainder of the distance to the head of the table. Not one person at the table moved or spoke. Anton had just killed a man in front of them all, and they’d let him.
As Anton settled upon his throne-like seat, a nulvari woman slid out from behind it and emotionlessly ordered servants to mop up the pool of blood.
“What crime did that man commit?” Will whispered frantically to Rosana.
She shrugged. “He got in the governor’s way.”
“By the Lady,” he breathed. “And that was enough to warrant killing a man and fining him so much?”
“Welcome to Governor Anton Constantine,” she muttered back.
The man’s death cast a pall over the proceedings as the business meeting commenced. Eventually, however, the subject of a rich vein of recently discovered minerals in the Ice Wall, apparently a great mountain range somewhere far away from Dupree, came up. The parties at the table commenced haggling vigorously over it.
The Forester’s Guild claimed the surface lumber, and the Miner’s Guild claimed the minable ore. But then the branch of the Forester’s Guild that regulated hunters and trappers weighed in and wanted a portion of the forest set aside for them to ply their trade. The Mage’s Guild accused the miners of wanting to keep any magical crystals they found for themselves. The Merchant’s Guild protested at having to pay for road construction to the region. In response, the landsgraves declared that the merchants should bear the expense unless the landsgraves were cut in for a share of the revenue.
It was at that point Will began to develop a headache. Rosana seemed fascinated by the exchange, but his gaze roamed the hall. He spied an incongruous face across the hall from where he sat—a striking blond girl of nearly an age with him, maybe a few years younger. She looked on the verge of bolting at any moment. He knew the feeling. She glanced over at him, and he nodded at her in commiseration.
“You know her?” Rosana whispered.
“No. But she looks nearly as uncomfortable as me.”
“Relax. I will not let any harm come to you.”
He smiled a little at that. Rosana seemed fiercely protective of those she cared about and he supposed the trait made her a fine Heart healer. His attention was yanked back to the council table as the governor’s voice cut sharply across the bickering.
“Enough. Since none of you can agree on anything, I declare that these mines will fall directly under my purview. All of you will surrender to me the usual percentages of your proceeds from the region, plus taxes of course. You shall share the costs of road building equally, and those, too, shall be subject to the usual tolls payable to me. Are there any questions?” The governor sounded well pleased with the proceeding. As he should be, Will supposed. He’d just taken a huge chunk of income for himself.
Although the others at the table attempted to hide their dismay, it was palpable in the room. That, and resignation. As if the governor seized vast territories and resources for himself on a regular basis.
“Let us move on to other business,” Anton announced in a bored tone. “Captain Krugar, you said you have news?”
The soldier who’d dragged Will and Rosana off the pier stepped up to the long table at the governor’s right hand. “Yes, my lord. The Heart has sent in a report of a Boki sighting on the Southwatch Road. This independently corroborates my own men’s report of an orc attack.”
The Heart’s adept spoke up immediately. “I have received no such report!”
“I met yon healer at the docks, and she spoke directly to me,” Krugar retorted, pointing at Rosana.
All eyes in the room turned in their direction. She shrank close against Will’s side, and an urge to put a protective arm around her surprised him.
“Step forward, girl,” Anton ordered.
Rosana threw Will a frightened glance but did as ordered.
“Give us your report, then,” the governor demanded.
“Uhh, yes, sir. As you wish, sir.” She dropped a little curtsy and about fell over in her nervousness. A few desultory chuckles wafted up while the governor rolled his eyes.
“I, umm, traveled with Brother Angelo and Kirchen and Moricello. Kirchen and Moricello, they guarded us. We have no Royal Order in our little chapter house, so we hired guards. But they were good boys. Honest. They wouldn’t steal from the Heart—”
“The orcs?” Anton snapped.
Will saw Rosana’s cheeks turn pink.
“Sorry, Your Highness, uhh, Your Governess, uhh, sir. So. We traveled the countryside seeking donations of supplies for the Kaer—umm, the Heart. Food is scarce after the hard winter we had, what with the drought and taxes—” She broke off in horror and visibly had to collect herself before continuing, “Our stores, they ran low.”
“Get to the point,” Anton growled. “The orcs. Where were they?”
“Oh. Yes. Of c-c-ourse,” she stammered. “We traveled the Southwatch Road, way out at the far end of it near a bump in the path called Hickory Hollow.…”
Will bristled a bit at having his home denigrated thus, although he reluctantly allowed that the hollow was, in truth, little more than the intersection of two footpaths and a few muddy streets lined with miserable huts.
“We threw a wagon wheel and lost most of the afternoon repairing it. We chose not to camp, but rather to head for Hickory Hollow, because the Wylde Wood is a dangerous place at night. We feared wolves or bears, of course, but not orcs. We had no idea Boki would be in the area. I mean really, who could have imagined that—”
“Enough already!” Anton yelled. “What of the cursed orcs?”
Will jumped along with everyone else at the outburst, but not nearly as hard as Rosana jumped. An urge to go to her and protect her from the governor’s wrath washed over Will. Visions of a golden blade drenched in gypsy blood danced menacingly in his mind’s eye. He watched on helplessly as her face grew even redder.
“The attack came after dark. Maybe, uhh, two hours after. All of a sudden, orcs rushed out of woods at us. They were screaming—”
Anton interrupted sharply, “How many?”
Rosana frowned. “I do not know. I, uhh, maybe panicked a little. They were very big and green. And smelly. They stunk like pig manure—” As laughter broke out, the governor looked on the verge of ordering her put to death. She added hastily, “Four. Maybe five orcs.”
“Continue.”
She was clearly rattled by the governor’s constant interruptions. If the fellow would just let her tell the story, she would no doubt give over all she knew. Will scowled in Anton’s general direction as she plowed onward.
“Well, they rushed us. And shouted really loud. Like a war cry.” Without warning she let out an ululating howl that made everyone jump first and laugh second.
Anton looked ready to explode, but Rosana stumbled on heedlessly, “Kirchen and Moricello, they fought, or tried to fight, at least.” She warmed to her story a bit more and used her arms to gesture as she added, “The orcs were very big. Strong. Fast. They carried giant axes. Never have I seen axes so huge—”
Yet again, Anton snapped. “Yes, yes. Get to the part where you decided this raiding party was Boki!”
“Umm. Right. Well, they were ferocious fighters. And they wove things in hair—you know. Teeth and bits of bone, and … and…,” she added in distaste, “… and cut-off ears. Human and elf and … and … other ears I didn’t recognize.”
Anton’s palm cracked down on the table. Will jumped, but not nearly as hard as Rosana did. The governor roared, “This is what you bring to me as proof of an invasion, Krugar? Teeth and ears?” He turned his wrath on Rosana. “And you? Have you ever seen an orc before, girl? Are you sure it wasn’t just a few goblins shouting? Or is this mayhap a filthy gypsy ploy to extract compensation out of me for something that didn’t even happen?”
Rosana stammered, “B-b-but I didn’t make up the attack. A brother and two guards are dead.”
“And yet you walked away completely unharmed?” Anton growled. “What flimsy scam is this?”
Will’s jaw clenched. Rosana looked near tears.
Beltane growled from his seat, the sound resolving into an angry outburst, “Just because the girl is gypsy does not make her a liar or a thief. Are you willing to risk another greenskin insurrection? Green fires still burn across the colony in remembrance of the last one.”
Will stared at the landsgrave, shocked. Since when did such a highborn take up the defense of anyone to such a man as Constantine?
“She has no proof!” Anton raised his voice, drowning out all other protests. “How do I know the Heart hasn’t sent a charlatan to trick me into sending troops and supplies to a chapter that’s failing to support itself properly? I am no hotheaded landsgrave who overreacts to every outrageous rumor to reach my ears. I am governor, and I require proof before I act.”
Someone from down the table, the Heart adept, half-rose out of his seat. “Here, now. There is no cause for accusations against the Heart. A young healer has come in good faith to report an attack upon a Heart caravan. The Heart is entirely within its rights to request support from the Imperial Army to investigate this attack—”
Anton cut the adept off. “Where is her evidence? You expect me simply to take this gypsy at her word and send out an army in response?”
“She is Heart—”
“She is not the Heart!” Anton roared. “You people may be able to throw your weight around in Koth, but this is not Koth, boy! I am in charge, here.”
The adept fell back into his seat looking stunned. Will glanced around the long table. Everyone looked shocked, in fact.
The Landsgrave of Lochnar leaned forward. “What she describes sounds enough like an orc raiding party to me that I think we should have a look into it.”
“Since when are you such a big orc hunter, Beltane?” Anton snarled, his voice oily with threat.
If the Boki have left their forests, we need to know right away and, furthermore, see to our defenses. Immediately. Lest we have another insurrection.”
“Commit troops to an investigation right now, Lord Governor, or I shall send my own men,” Lochnar demanded.
“You do not give orders around here, Beltane.”
The landsgrave pushed his chair back. Stood up. Said through a clenched jaw, “Then I shall depart and go where I do give the orders. And I will see to the defense of my own people.” The implication was clear that Anton would not do the same and take care of his subjects.
Following Beltane’s furious departure, uncomfortable silence fell around the table.
A look of something Will might name chagrin crossed Anton’s face, followed by a momentary flash of rage in the direction of Lochnar’s empty chair, come and gone so quickly Will almost thought he imagined it.
Anton leaned forward aggressively and growled at Rosana, “If you’re lying to me, girl, Heart tabard or no, I’ll strip your colors and sell you into slavery before this day is done.”
He would do it, too. Of that Will had no doubt. Panicked, he jumped to his feet and cried out, “She’s telling the truth! They were orcs, I tell you. I fought one myself. And they were Boki. I saw the red scars on their foreheads!”
Glaring fiercely enough at him to make Will’s knees knock together in terror, Anton gestured sharply for a soldier to bring him to the council table. Shaking, Will stumbled along beside the guard. The fellow shoved him forward to stand beside Rosana.
She threw him a sidelong look of both wonder and gratitude that he would take up for her like this. He was shocked as well. But something protective, possessive even, moved in him at the notion of her being frightened and badgered. He straightened to his full height and smiled down at her reassuringly. The room fell away as she smiled back shyly at him in dawning awareness. Oh, yes. He would go to the Imperial Seat and back for her if necessary. And he would certainly face Anton Constantine for her.
“Who are you?” the governor demanded.
“Umm, I’m Will, uh-h—” he stuttered, unsure if he should give his full name or not. His father had long insisted that Will never, ever tell his real, complete name.
“Whatever. Tell me of these orcs, and make it good, or I’ll make a slave out of you, too.”
Will cleared his throat and started over. “I wanted to stand watch for Hickory Hollow with Adrick. The hollow’s at the southwest edge of the Ring in the Wylde Wood.”
Anton gave the barest nod of recognition, and Will forged on, “I went home to get permission to do it, and when I returned to the knot above the hollow, Adrick was dead. An orc had just gutted him with a spear. The orc attacked me next.”
“You defeated a Boki warrior?” Anton scoffed.
“Not exactly. He broke my spear, but I tripped him with the shaft. He fell and hit his head. Knocked himself out. I went over to see if he was dead or not, and I saw an irregular reddish scar in the middle of his forehead as clear as day. I heard more orcs coming and ran for the hollow to warn everyone.”
“Then what happened?” Anton asked dismissively.
“Near two dozen of them, plus a bunch of other greenskins, dragged everyone outside and burned the village. The Boki thane killed Lars in single combat.”
“You recognized a Boki thane?”
His father might be dead, but Will was not about to give up Ty to the governor. “Not me. One of the villagers said something about the Boki leader being a thane.”
“Yet you not only lived but also escaped this supposed thane of the Boki.” Anton sounded as skeptical of Will’s story as he had been of Rosana’s.
“I ran,�
� Will replied firmly. Why he didn’t mention his parents he wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed right not to do so. “From behind a hedgerow, I saw them firing huts and gutting Lars and…”—he gulped and continued, “… and eating body parts. That’s when I fled for the woods and did not look back.”
The room had fallen completely silent as everyone listened intently to his tale.
He continued, “I ran for a long time. Eventually, I came upon the Southwatch Path. I must have circled around to the south of the hollow. At any rate, I saw an overturned wagon on the road. I approached it and found Ros—Novice Rosana—alive but unconscious. As she previously stated, her three companions were dead.” He added defensively, “I checked them myself.”
“But you have no idea whether goblins or orcs attacked them?” Anton challenged.
“The two guards were hacked nigh in half. I’ve never seen a goblin strong enough to do that. And we get plenty of goblins in the Wylde Wood. Plus, the Boki were sending patrols out into the woods by the time I fled. I had to hide from a few of them.”
“Poppycock,” Anton pronounced.
Frustration overflowed his gut and into his voice as Will retorted, “I speak truth!”
He started as his voice rolled forth, deep and powerful. That was how his father had spoken the night of the Boki attack in the woods. A voice of command. A voice designed to carry across the chaos and noise of a battlefield. A voice so powerful it could be heard in the spirit itself.
“Where…”—Anton half-rose to his feet, his own voice gathering power—“… in the name of Koth did you learn how to do the Dragon’s Roar, boy?”
Will gaped. He had no idea what to say, for he had no idea what this Dragon’s Roar might be. “The … what?”
Anton leaned forward aggressively, staring. “You look familiar, boy.”
Equal parts shocked and terrified, Will stammered, “This is the first time I’ve ever left the Wylde Wood, sir, uh-h, Your Lordship, uh-h, my lord governor. I don’t’ see how—”
