Rampage, page 13
part #1 of Land of the Elementals Series
“We don’t want a fight. We’ll come peacefully.”
The dwarf seemed to relax, just a bit. With a sharp command, his troop moved forward, surrounding the two of them.
“We will escort you to Heart. But if you so much as sneeze in the wrong direction, we will not hesitate to kill you.”
Arbor just nodded. Two of the dwarves gathered their belongings and began to herd them down the tunnel. Grak walked beside him, and he was glad to see she was no longer limping. He could see grim and distrustful looks on the dwarves faces as they walked, and he couldn’t help but wonder what they had in store for them.
17
Arbor and Grak were sitting in a cell.
They had arrived in the city of Heart just two hours ago and were immediately thrown in a cell with no food or water. When he tried to ask questions, the guards just ignored him.
He looked over to Grak. She was sitting on the opposite side of the cell and had pulled her knees up before her and wrapped her arms around them, hiding her face.
“Grak?” he asked.
She looked up with a start as he called out. He could see that she was very visibly shaking and that her face was pale with fear. He got up and walked over to sit next to her.
“Why are you so afraid?” he asked gently. “Those dwarves seemed to hate you for some reason. Can you tell me why?”
She shuddered at this, but then took a deep breath and began to speak.
“Gremlins,” she began in an even measured tone, “are sworn to serve the king. We are his soldiers, his assassins, his to do with as he wishes. Gremlins have done many horrible things to all the other races over the years, and all in the name of the king. Five years ago, the gremlins were ordered to raid this mountain. They destroyed buildings, burned food stores, and killed thousands of dwarves.”
She paused here for a second, and then added in a quieter voice, “They also killed the queen and her unborn child.”
Arbor winced when he heard this but then thought back to his visit to Grend. Something wasn’t sitting right with him. Hadn’t there been dwarves in the gremlin city?
“I saw plenty of dwarves in my visit to the city, and they didn’t seem to have any problems with the gremlins.”
Grak just shook her head at this statement.
“There are many different tribes of dwarves. The ones you saw in the city had been living there for generations, long subjected to the king’s rule. The dwarves of the Jagged Peaks, however, still openly defy the king and everything he stands for. That is why they hate me so much,” she finished with a sigh.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Arbor said. “Why do the gremlins serve the king? Can’t you just do what you want, like everyone else?”
Grak shrugged.
“No one knows why we serve the king. Only that we’ve been doing it as long as anyone could remember.”
“Do all gremlins serve the king, even the women and children?” Arbor asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, even the women and children,” she replied sadly.
“That doesn’t make any sense, though,” Arbor argued. “You’re a gremlin and you don’t serve the king. You’re actually in open defiance, as far as I can tell. You helped me kill others of your kind when they were chasing us.”
Grak just shrugged once more.
“I don’t like him. He’s a total asshole, and I’d honestly prefer it if he just dropped dead.”
Arbor had just opened his mouth to ask Grak to explain, when the bars on the door rattled as a dwarf slid a key into the lock.
“Come with me,” he said, looking at Arbor.
He had a scowl on his face and eyed Grak with hatred.
Arbor and Grak both got up and headed towards the door.
“Not you! Damn filthy gremlin, just him,” the dwarf said, pointing a finger at Arbor.
Arbor was about to protest when Grak just waved him on.
“Just go. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He wasn’t so sure about that, but seeing as he had no choice, he followed the guard, hearing the door clang shut behind him.
The guard led him through a low archway and out on to an open street. He looked up, seeing a high ceiling of stone at least hundred feet above his head. Glowing stones were everywhere, set in the walls and ceiling, lighting up the entire city. He stopped for a moment to gape, when the guard prodded him in the back with his spear.
“Quit gawking!” he snarled.
Arbor glared at him but continued down the street. Another guard soon joined them as they walked, presumably to stop him from running.
There were dwarves everywhere he looked, shouting greetings at one another and eating at open booths on the side of the street. He saw a plump dwarf woman leading two children to an open doorway, with the words ‘Finest clothing in Heart’ painted above the door.
He felt a prod in his back the moment he stopped and was forced to move forward once again. He gritted his teeth and had to restrain himself from punching the dwarf in the face. They continued walking until they left the main part of the city behind. Up ahead, he could see a massive stone building, with huge iron-bound doors set into the front and guessed that this was their destination.
As they approached the entrance, Arbor could see that a smaller set of doors had been built into the larger ones. This would allow people to move in and out without having to open the massive doors each time.
There were two guards standing to attention at either side, and they nodded at the dwarves escorting him. They gave Arbor curious glances but stepped aside and opened the smaller doors for them.
Arbor was roughly shoved forward, and he glared back at the guard who was seeming to take every opportunity to prod and poke him. The guard just sneered back and prodded him once again. Hard.
Arbor didn’t move, instead narrowing his eyes at the dwarf as he thought of the best way to take his weapon from him.
“If you don’t get a move on, I’ll use the other end,” the dwarf said, turning the spear around and leveling the point at him threateningly.
Arbor gritted his teeth and moved forward, inwardly seething at the unfair treatment. He was escorted down a long hallway, decorated with fine tapestries and marble carvings.
He could see another set of doors at the end of the corridor with two more guards standing at the entrance. One of the guards stopped them once they’d gotten within ten feet. Apparently, the dwarf behind him hadn’t noticed, because he exclaimed angrily and prodded him with the spear butt once again.
Arbor whirled on the dwarf and pointed to the guards by the door.
“If you’d like me to keep going, I suggest you take it up with them. But if you just want a fight, I’ll be happy to take you on.”
The dwarf’s face reddened as the door guards gave him annoyed looks.
“I’ll teach you to mind your tongue, human!” he snarled, bringing the spear blade to bear once again.
“That’s enough of that,” the other guard said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You will not attack an unarmed prisoner just because you don’t like his traveling companion.”
The angry dwarf looked between the other guard and Arbor for a moment, before angrily lowering the point of his spear and nodding once.
The guards relaxed as the situation was resolved and one of them pounded twice on the door.
“Enter!” a voice called out through the door.
The guard pushed the door open, and Arbor once again felt the spear butt prod him hard in the back to get him moving. Apparently, he wasn’t about to let the insult go so easily.
Arbor stumbled forward and once again gritted his teeth as he felt rage begin to boil up within him. He would get even with the little bastard if it was the last thing he did!
He did manage to keep a clear enough head to notice the splendor of the room he’d just entered. The ceiling towered fifty feet over his head, and a long carpet stretched towards to a raised dais. An elaborate throne carved of blue marble sat atop the pedestal, and in that throne sat a dwarf.
The dwarf was quite handsome and a lot younger than Arbor would have expected. A long red beard flowed down his chest, and deep brown eyes looked back at him from under a stern brow. He was powerfully built, and knotted muscles rippled under his fine shirt. Golden rings adorned his fingers and a bright crown sat atop his brow.
Arbor couldn’t help but notice that it was made of same blue marble as the throne. It was interwoven with glittering gems and bands of gold and silver.
“His royal majesty, King Akkard! King of the Jagged Peaks, killer of a thousand foes and bane of the Mythic Bear!” a dwarf next to the throne announced in, what Arbor thought, was way too loud a voice. He could see the king agreed as well, by the slight wince he gave at the volume.
“You should bow, peasant!”
He heard a whisper in his ear, right before he felt a sharp crack right behind his legs, forcing him to drop to his knees with a grunt of pain.
“There’s no need for that,” Akkard said, with a disapproving look directed at the dwarf who’d been tormenting him for the last few minutes.
“You may rise,” he said, directing his gaze on him.
Arbor rose to his feet, hiding a wince as he did so. He was sure he’d just bruised his knees.
“Tell me, human, what is your name?” Akkard asked, not unkindly.
“My name is Arbor.”
“Tell me then, Arbor,” the king said, leaning forward in his throne. “What you were doing traveling through my tunnels, and in the company of a gremlin no less?”
For some reason, the king didn’t sneer when he said the word gremlin. He seemed genuinely curious, so Arbor related his tale.
He told everything, from how his family had been killed, to his rescue of Grak and his subsequent run from the soldiers. He skipped over the part about Silver. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t think he should mention the odd hermit to the dwarf king.
Akkard listened patiently, not saying a word throughout his entire tale, then leaned back in his throne once Arbor concluded his story.
“It sounds as though you’ve had quite a number of hardships leading up to your capture here,” he said in an even voice.
“You have my condolences for what happened to your family. I, too, know the pain of losing those close to one’s heart.” His voice seemed to soften for second, and an undisguised look of grief crossed his face.
“You can’t really believe this human, Your Majesty!” the guard behind him exclaimed in outrage. “This filthy human is conspiring with the gremlins! He must die along with the filth we’ve locked up in the dungeons!”
“That’s quite enough of that!”
The other guard stepped forward to try and intercede again, but the dwarf just shoved him aside. He then stepped forward and tried to jab at Arbor again, but this time, Arbor wasn’t about to take it lying down.
Reaching for the pulsing Core at his center, Arbor pumped magic down the streams to his hands and feet. He could feel his muscles strengthening as the magic seeped into them. The process didn’t take very long, just a second or two, but the dwarf had already jabbed him twice in the ribs before he felt ready to make his move.
The dwarf was pulling the spear back to poke at him a third time, this time with the spear point and not the butt as he had with the previous strikes when Arbor felt his senses sharpen.
He could now sense where the attack would land, his magic showing him a brief glimpse into the future. He took in a deep breath, then moving faster than anyone could follow, made his move.
The dwarf seemed to be almost standing still, and he easily sidestepped the incoming thrust. The dwarf, expecting to meet resistance, stumbled forward, completely off balance as his spear thrust through the empty air.
Arbor grabbed his spear then, twisting it out of his grasp and sending the offending dwarf stumbling back. He quickly spun, twirling the spear in his hands as he’d seen Silver do, and cracked the dwarf across the temple with all his might.
The haft struck the dwarf so hard that it shattered in his grip, sending splintered fragments flying in all directions.
Despite this, the dwarf was the true victim, not the spear.
His head was whipped to the side with the force of the impact and he was sent flying a good ten feet across the room. He smashed into the opposite wall so hard that stone chips flaked off. He then crashed to the ground in an unmoving heap, a small groan escaping his crumpled form. Arbor stood there, holding the remains of the shattered spear, panting lightly as steam poured off his body.
He’d overdone it again, but since it had only been for a couple of seconds, it shouldn’t be too bad.
There was a sound of slithering leather on steel as every dwarf in the room drew their weapons. None of them were sure of what had just happened, as Arbor had moved too quickly for any of them to see. One minute, the dwarf guard was rambling and jabbing at him with his spear and the next, he was lying ten feet away and Arbor was holding the splintered remains of his weapon.
“Put your weapons down!” This cry came from the king.
Arbor looked at him and was shocked to see a broad grin across his face.
“Excellent show!” he boomed, clapping his hands. “I’ve never seen anyone move like that in my entire life! And I can’t think of anyone more deserving of punishment than young Jek over there.”
Akkard’s grin turned into a full-bellied laugh, and the dwarves looked on in confusion as their king had seemingly lost his mind. Finally calming down, then king motioned his guards out of the room.
“You may leave us now. If he wanted me dead, none of you would be able to stop him before he took my head, anyway.”
He said this in an oddly cheerful voice, and the dwarves still didn’t move, unsure whether they should really go. When they didn’t immediately move, the king’s expression changed in an instant.
“Why are you still here? That was an order from your king!” he roared, and the dwarves quickly obeyed, tripping over themselves to leave the room.
Two of them bent down on their way, grabbed the unconscious Jek, and dragged him out of the room by his arms. Akkard waited until they were all gone, then he slumped in his throne, a tired sigh escaping his lips.
Arbor could now see that Akkard had been putting on a strong front for his subjects. Once they were gone, however, he allowed his true weariness to show.
“I apologize for the rough treatment you’ve been subjected to since coming here,” he began. “Some of the younger dwarves are overzealous and believe they know better than everyone how the kingdom should be run.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if trying to fight an oncoming headache.
“Truth be told, we are in a great amount of danger, more than most know.”
Arbor was slightly taken aback at the sudden transformation Akkard displayed. This wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting a king to be like.
“What kind of trouble?” he asked, wondering why the king of dwarves, someone with thousands of warriors at his command, would be admitting something like this to him, a human he barely knew.
It was as if the king could read his mind, as he gave him a weary smile.
“You must be wondering why I’m confiding in a total stranger. Don’t worry about that for now. I assure you that I have a very good reason to be confiding in you.”
“And what possible reason could that be?” Arbor asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“That,” the king said, pointing at his chest.
Arbor looked down to see that the items he kept around his neck had somehow managed to slip out of his shirt.
It must have happened during the fight, he realized, tucking the items away.
“I’m guessing that you’re referring to the red pendant, and not the necklace,” Arbor said in a dry tone. “What is it you know about the pendant, and why do you trust me because I have it?”
He needed answers. His family had been butchered in the pursuit for this pendant. He had to know what was so special about it.
“Unfortunately, it is not my place to tell you about that pendant.”
Arbor opened his mouth to protest when Akkard held up a hand to forestall him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s more that I can’t tell you.”
The king rolled up his sleeve to reveal a small red mark in the shape of a diamond, with a winding pattern of confusing lines surrounding it.
“This mark was placed on me by someone on the day I ascended to the throne. He told me many secrets that day, things that you could scarcely imagine. That pendant you’re wearing, and its significance were one of those secrets.”
Akkard rolled down his sleeve, covering the mark from view.
“He placed the mark on me then, a powerful bit of magic that prevents me from speaking of anything he told me on that day.”
Arbor was excited at this revelation. There was someone out there who knew what this was, and its apparent importance.
“There has to be something you can tell me. Please!” Arbor begged.
The king was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether to say something or not. He finally decided on something as he nodded to himself a few times before speaking.
“I can only tell you what he told me after the seal was placed on me. The man said that one day, my entire nation would be at risk from a terrible threat. He told me that someone wearing your pendant would show up in my throne room and perform a feat of magic I’d never seen before. He told me that he would be our salvation, and here you are.”
Arbor was shocked. How could someone he’d never met know he would come here at a time when the dwarves were in danger? He didn’t doubt the king for a second as to whether he was telling the truth or not. Whoever this mystery man was, Arbor was almost positive he would meet him one day. He didn’t know why, but that feeling had cemented itself within him when Akkard had finished speaking.
He took a deep breath and looked up to the king.
“How can I help?”
Akkard breathed a sigh of relief as Arbor asked that question and began his tale.
