An Alliance of Mortals, page 13
part #6 of The New Earth Chronicles Series
“Old? You?”
Larin chuckled as he returned to his chair and turned it around to face his guest before he sat down.
“Hallic, you haven't changed at all since I first met you. What's it been, a decade or more? I swear that you are growing younger, not older, as the years pass.”
“That's very kind, my friend,” Hallic replied with a grin. “My old bones say otherwise. But enough of that. How have you been? I apologize for not visiting sooner, but guild affairs keep me constantly busy. I swear that rogues are the neediest, most undisciplined people I know. How the guild has existed for so long is a mystery to me.”
“Then they are lucky that you became guildmaster, aren't they?” Larin teased him.
“They may be lucky, but am I? Some days I certainly doubt that.”
Larin had not been merely giving his guest an empty compliment when he said that he looked young. Hallic's face was unlined and lean, thinner than that of most dwarves. He was also clean-shaven, as was Larin, but that was very unusual for most adult males. Maybe that was what made the rogue look years younger than he was.
But beyond his youthful appearance, Hallic was unremarkable to look at. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He could blend into a crowd with such skill that he was effectively invisible when he wanted to be. A necessary talent for a master rogue.
“So what did you want to discuss?” Larin asked him.
“It's this new alliance that the king announced,” Hallic said as he rubbed his hands together to warm them. “I am concerned about its impact on our society.”
“You're against it?” the mage asked anxiously.
“Against it? Gods, no! Not in the least. No, what I am worried about is what happens when our enemies find out about it.”
Larin frowned in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
Hallic sat back and crossed his arms, staring intently at the mage.
“Our people are strong and numerous, my friend,” he told his host. “I am not boasting when I say that we are the dominant race on this planet now. And thanks to Shandon's strong leadership, we are on a war footing and resolute as a people. We are training more warriors every day. We are building new war engines and more magical weapons. Our walls have been strengthened around every city and town. If we are attacked again by those damned goblins, we will be ready.”
“I agree. So what is the problem?”
“What happens if, instead of turning their attention on us, the Chaos lords send their forces against the humans or the elves? Or both at once? We are hundreds of miles below the surface of the world. Even if our allies somehow managed to call for our help, it would take us hours to respond. And in that time, either race might be decimated before we could reach them.”
Larin smiled broadly with relief.
“Ah, now I see. Well, if that is what you are worried about, then the timing of your visit could not be better.”
“How so?”
The mage glanced at the tome that he had been reading.
“When the king and I met the elves and the humans, Elder Amelda, the leader of the elves, said that their scryer could set up a permanent link between our three races, both as a means of communicating instantly when there is need and as a gateway to send troops to support each other if any of us is attacked.”
“But that is wonderful, Larin!” Hallic exclaimed with a broad smile. “So why were you reading that dusty old book? Are there problems with this link thingy?”
Larin picked up the tome and sighed as he set it on his lap.
“I don't know,” he admitted. “Callius, that is the scryer's name, contacted me earlier today and said that he would need to create a physical anchor here in Kingstone, and in the human settlement at Nottinghill Castle. I haven't spoken with the king yet because I want to be sure that this construct presents no danger to our people. I have found no evidence that it could be, but since Shandon depends on me for sound advice on such things, I thought that I should search thoroughly before I told him about the idea.”
Hallic leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and stared at the mage.
“Hang on a minute. You've been offered a solution to the very problem that I have been worried about and you have yet to present that solution to the king? Larin, how long has it been since this Callius fellow spoke with you?”
“Err, I'm not sure,” the mage replied vaguely. “It was early this morning, not long after I woke up, so maybe...twelve hours? Perhaps longer. Why?”
Hallic shook his head.
“May the gods save me from fainthearted scholars,” he exclaimed. “Over twelve hours? Larin, what if one of our allies had been attacked in that time? You are combing through old books while the world is teetering on the brink of destruction? This is an emergency situation, old friend. Risks be damned! We need to take action right now, not dither about doing research.”
“But the king needs as much information as I can give him before he can make such a momentous decision,” Larin replied, sounding defensive. “If I make a mistake or miss something...”
“That is the chance that we must take,” Hallic stated, cutting him off. “You know Shandon well enough by now, surely. He is very wise, but he's also not averse to taking action when it needs to be taken. And right now, we need to move ahead with this idea. Present him with the facts, including your own concerns, and let him make the decision.”
He stood up and smiled down at the mage.
“Let's go. The longer we sit here, the more dangerous this situation could become.”
“Now?”
Larin gaped at the rogue.
“But the king might be sleeping. I wouldn't want to disturb him. He works tirelessly and...”
“Oh, for the love of the Stone,” Hallic exclaimed irritably. “I learned an expression from the humans once. 'He who hesitates is lost.' A very appropriate sentiment in this situation. Now get up and let's get to the palace.”
He walked across the room to the front door.
“Or do you want me to do it myself? I doubt that I can explain this whole anchor thingy to Shandon as well as you can, but if I have to...”
“No, no, no!” Larin exclaimed as he leaped to his feet, almost tripping over the hem of his robe. “If you tell the king about it, you won't be able to explain it the way that Callius did to me.”
“Then you'd better come along and give him a more detailed report, hmm?”
Larin hesitated and then sighed in defeat.
“Fine then,” he said as he walked over to the rogue. “We'll go and seek an audience with the king.”
He smiled reluctantly at Hallic.
“You are an irritating fellow sometimes, do you know that?” he asked the rogue.
“Know it? It's one of my most endearing traits,” Hallic said airily. “Well, my daughter wouldn't agree, of course, but Mel still doesn't appreciate her father's more subtle gifts.”
Larin laughed and opened the door.
“Let's go,” he said, waving Hallic ahead of him. “Before I lose my nerve.”
“Stay strong, my friend,” the rogue said as he slapped Larin on the shoulder. “I'll be at your side to support you when we speak with the king.”
“Why doesn't that reassure me?”
Chapter 10
While the cities of the dwarves never saw the light of the sun, for millennia they had operated on an enforced day-night cycle. In ancient times, dwarven leaders in each city and town spread out around the world had set their clocks according to when the sun rose above the surface hundreds of miles above their heads. And those clocks had remained on that cycle ever since.
As Hallic and Larin made their way through Kingstone toward the palace, the shops around them were just closing up and the citizens were heading home for their evening meals. A mile above the city was the towering ceiling of the cavern where the city had been built thousands of years before. The ceiling was supported by massive pillars that rose from many points across the city and along its borders and, embedded in those pillars were large gems created by the most legendary of all dwarven alchemists, Varus Mordren.
Varus had somehow fused several elements together to create a gem that he called 'diatempis'. Those gems mirrored the day and night cycle on the surface above and lit up the pillars all across the capital and in towns and cities all over the empire. No one had ever been able to recreate these gems, but Varus had made thousands of them and stored them in a vault for future generations to use. And used they had been.
Larin looked up and saw the gems on the pillars slowly dimming just as street lamps all around the city began to glow to make up for the darkness descending upon the capital.
“Night is coming,” he observed to his companion. “The king may be getting ready to go to bed. Do you really think that we should disturb him right now?”
Hallic snorted in amusement.
“Knowing Shandon, what he's getting ready to do is down several mugs of ale after spending all day listening to citizens ask for his favor. Relax, Larin. The king is not someone who spends much of his time sleeping. He can't. There is too much that needs his attention. He'll be awake and alert when we get there. I guarantee it.”
“I hope so,” Larin fretted. “He has been so good to my kind. I wouldn't want to anger him and risk his disfavor.”
They were walking down a narrow street, passing workers who were heading home after a long day. Everyone seemed to be chatting amicably with each other and no one gave the rogue and the mage more than a passing glance.
“You're not reading him correctly, my friend,” Hallic said as he stepped aside to let a crowd of children race past, hooting with laughter as they chased each other through the crowd.
“Shandon would only get angry if you didn't tell him about Callius and his offer,” he continued. “He wants to stay on top of things and consumes information almost as eagerly as he consumes ale. Surely after working for him all this time, you must know that?”
Larin nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, that is true enough, I suppose,” he admitted. “I'm just remembering Shandon's father and how he ruled in his time. Our people rarely saw him at public events and he only held court a few times a year.”
“Ha!” Hallic exclaimed dismissively. “Comparing Shandon to his father is like comparing fire and water. They are exact opposites. I hate to say this, but the old king held onto his throne for far too long. So long that he became complacent and trusted vile traitors who got close enough to assassinate him and his eldest son. That will never happen to Shandon. When he leaves office, it will either be because he falls in battle, leading his armies, or because he has done what he wanted to do and decides to pass the crown on to a worthy successor. And that latter act will not happen for a few centuries.'
He winked at Larin.
“Remember how young our king is. Barely over a hundred years. He has a long life ahead of him, provided we survive the attacks by the armies of the Chaos lords. And to do that, we need this permanent link to our new allies. That's why Shandon will be happy to hear what you have to say. Now let's pick up the pace, shall we? If the king drinks too much, he may be too bleary to focus on what you have to tell him.”
“Oh my, I hadn't thought of that!” Larin said in surprise. “Yes, let us hurry!”
They made their way through the central market of the city. It was a vast grouping of stalls and small shops that sold everything from food and drink to tools, small machines, raw ore and gemstones. The vendors were all closing their shops for the night and the market was very quiet compared to the hustle and bustle that was typical during business hours.
Beyond the edge of the market, the royal palace could be seen rising high above the city. Its ancient stone and iron walls exuded a sense of strength and permanence to the populace and its many levels rose a hundred feet higher than any other building in the capital.
Hallic and Larin left the market behind and made their way past two-story apartment buildings until they reached the main street leading to the gates of the palace. Bright street lights illuminated the promenade, shining off of the cobblestones that had been worn down from centuries of dwarven traffic. Motorized carts and wagons were not permitted in the downtown area of the city, but a steady stream of dwarves using the main street had left the road's surface shiny and flat.
The front gates leading into the palace grounds could be seen at the end of the promenade. They were made of hardened steel and featured the royal crest prominently. Four guards wearing the armor of the king's personal troops stood vigilantly in front of the gates facing the street. Both Hallic and Larin could feel their watchful eyes upon them as they approached the main entrance.
When the two dwarves were ten yards away from the gates, one of the guards stepped forward and held up a hand.
“Halt!” he ordered, his voice ringing hollowly inside of his closed helmet. “Stand and state your business.”
Hallic nudged Larin, who rolled his eyes at the rogue and looked at the guard.
“I am Larin Dunnor. Some of you may know me. I am the leader of the mages' guild and an advisor to the king. I need to speak with him on a matter of utmost urgency.”
A second guard stepped forward, identical in all respects to the first one.
“Welcome, Larin Dunnor,” she said formally. “I do recognize you, and your companion. Welcome, Guildmaster Barston. The king has retired for the evening. Is your business truly urgent enough to interrupt his rest? He has been very busy of late and does not wish to be disturbed for frivolous reasons.”
Hallic smiled at the guard.
“Sergeant Ellasar, isn't it?” he asked her.
“Yes, Guildmaster. I am honored that you remember me.”
Larin noticed that the other guards relaxed slightly as their companion spoke with Hallic. Trust the rogue's sharp mind to remember the name of one of the hundreds of palace guards who watched over the king.
“Sergeant, I can assure you that my friend and I are here on very important business. I hate to interrupt Shandon's drinking time, and I know that he works very hard, but we really do need to speak with him.”
One of the guards chuckled at Hallic's comment, while the sergeant nodded slowly.
“You have both been formally recognized by the king as his friends,” she said respectfully. “Please give me a moment to contact the seneschal. All such requests for an audience with the king must be approved by him.”
“Yes, of course. We'll wait.”
The sergeant turned and walked over to the left side of the gate. She spoke into a metal box there, one of the many communication stations scattered throughout the palace.
Hallic looked at Larin and gave him a subtle wink.
“Patience, my friend,” he whispered. “Security has tightened significantly around the king since the goblins attacked Kingstone and we have to deal with these precautions, tedious as they may be.”
Larin smiled at him.
“I know that, Hallic,” he replied. “And if it keeps the king safe, I will wait for as long as it takes. I must say that I am impressed yet again by your memory. Recognizing the sergeant by her voice alone is remarkable.”
“Is it?”
Hallic seemed startled by the compliment.
“I'm a rogue, Larin,” he said with a grin. “I spend a lot of time speaking with people in the shadows, many of whom keep their faces hidden when we do business. Remembering voices is vital to what I do.”
“It's still impressive, at least to me,” the mage replied. “And it probably hastened our admittance into the palace.”
“I hope so. We'll just have to wait and see.”
A minute later, Sergeant Ellasar returned and nodded at the pair.
“The seneschal will be here in a few moments,” she told them. “He asked me to apologize for the delay, but he is currently on the far side of the palace and it will take him some time to get here.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Hallic said. “We understand. I appreciate your efforts on our behalf.”
“It is my duty, Guildmaster,” she replied formally.
All of the guards stepped back and resumed their positions in front of the gates. If he hadn't seen them move and speak, Larin might have thought that the four warriors were simply statues as they became immobile and silent again.
“They're very disciplined, aren't they?” he muttered to Hallic. “I've spent a lot of time in the palace, but I sometimes forget that Shandon sets such high standards for his personal troops.”
“Makes sense, though,” Hallic said as he stared at the guards. “Shandon was a warrior long before he became a king. And from what I've heard, he was a damned good one. Brave, resolute, unyielding. His troops mirror his virtues and I must say that I approve.”
“As do I.”
The sounds of the city slowly faded as the citizens retired to their homes for the evening. Hallic and Larin spoke quietly for a short time, speculating about the return of the elves to the world and their possible impact on the future of the dwarven empire.
The guards suddenly snapped to attention and the mage and the rogue turned to look at the gate just as a dwarf wearing a white tunic and dark trousers arrived from the direction of the palace.
Sergeant Ellasar opened one of the gates just wide enough for the dwarf to walk out. She saluted crisply and motioned at Hallic and Larin.
“Seneschal, Guildmaster Barston and the leader of the mages' guild, Larin Dunnor, are here requesting an audience with the king,” she said formally.
“Yes, yes, so you told me when you called,” the seneschal said testily. “Thank you, Sergeant. I will take it from here.”
She saluted again and stepped back.
“Good evening to you both,” he said with a warm smile. “What an unexpected pleasure to see you.”
“Is it, Falder?” Hallic asked him archly. “You seem to be somewhat out of breath. Did we make you run the entire length of the palace?”
Falder chuckled and waved them through the gates.
“Part of the job, I'm afraid,” he told the pair as he walked in behind them and then led the way along the marble path toward the front steps of the palace.
