The Dragon's Champion (18 page)

“As you
command,” Sir Duvall said with a bow.

*****

Mr. Stilwell sat
in his cell looking up through the small window near the ceiling that afforded
him a glimpse of the starry sky. The night was peaceful and cool. It should
have been easy for him to lie down, but he could not sleep. The anger still
raged within him. He had told Sir Duvall that they shouldn’t tell Lord Lokton.
They should have taken care of it themselves, but Sir Duvall had promised that
Lord Lokton would help. They had all betrayed him. The death of his cousin was
second in importance to the games of power that the nobles played. Mr. Stilwell
thought himself a fool. He sat in a cell for finding his cousin’s body while
the murderer wandered free enjoying a luxurious life as a noble’s son.

“It isn’t right,
is it?” a voice asked from the shadows of the dungeon hall.

Mr. Stilwell
turned to see Sir Duvall’s face emerge from the darkness into the starlight.
“What do you want?” Mr. Stilwell asked. “I want no more of your advice.”

“I have not come
to give advice,” Sir Duvall said sadly. “I have come to apologize. I judged
Lord Lokton to be a man of honor. I thought him above the trappings of political
games and positioning. That was why I entered into his service.”

“You were
wrong,” Mr. Stilwell growled.

“Indeed,” Sir
Duvall agreed. “But, I have come not only with words, but actions to rectify my
failing.” Sir Duvall held up a key and slipped it into the lock. The tumblers
clicked into place and the latch of the cell door came free. Sir Duvall quickly
grabbed the door and applied pressure to it as he opened it, trying to keep it
from squeaking.

“What’re you
doing?”

“You and I shall
go to Cedreau Manor and punish the murderer ourselves. We will then come back
and I will put you back in the cell.”

“That won’t
work,
Lord Lokton will know it was me.”

“Ah,” Sir Duvall
held up a finger to his nose. “But, with you in the cell, and the guard
swearing that he saw you sleeping during each of his rounds tonight Lord Lokton
will have no proof. We will take that arrogant noble’s game and turn it on him.
Then, when the senate comes to investigate, the evidence will point to your
innocence and you will be free.”

“Why are you
doing this?” Mr. Stilwell asked.

“Because Lord
Lokton wants me to go in the morning and warn Lord Cedreau of the coming
investigation,” Sir Duvall replied. “I can not give the magistrate’s killer a
chance to get away.”

Mr. Stilwell
rose to his feet. The anger was fresh and hot in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

*****

Master Lepkin
dismounted and stood before the twin dwarfs. “I have come to speak with the
king.”

“We already have
a senator in audience with King Sit’marihu, how many more people is King Mathias
going to send?” one of the dwarves asked.

“A senator is
here already?” Lepkin asked with an arched brow.
“Which one?”

“I dunno, all
you tall folk look the same to me,” the dwarf replied with a shrug.

“A senator is
noticeable, even among the dwarf folk,” Lepkin said. “I think the white robes
with purple stripes on the sleeves should be enough to set them apart. If not,
then there is always the gold talisman of the double-headed eagle that they
wear around their necks.”

“Alright, so a
senator might be different from the rest of you tall folk, but I’m not for
knowing the man’s name,” the dwarf gruffed. Lepkin could tell that the dwarf’s
patience was running extra thin. “I still don’t see why your presence is
necessary. Who are you to add anything to a senator’s message?”

“I am the Keeper
of Secrets,” Master Lepkin said evenly. “Now open the door or I shall do it
myself.” Lepkin’s hand went down to pull his cloak back. The dwarves both
jumped at the sight of the famed blade and hurried to open the door. Lepkin
walked inside without another look at either of the dwarves.

He passed
through a long upward sloping tunnel. The walls were smooth, with small holes
in the low hanging ceiling every dozen yards or so. Normally the construction
of the tunnel would seem strange to any besides the dwarves, but Lepkin knew
the purpose behind its unique design. Roegudok Hall was built on the inside of
a great mountain. The sheer cliffs and impassable peak forced all guests, both
invited and uninvited, to use the main entrance, this tunnel, to gain access to
the inside of Roegudok Hall. According to the wisdom of the Ancients, the
dwarves had built this tunnel to slope in such a way that if an army intruded
into the tunnel, the army of Roegudok Hall could unleash molten metal, burning
oil, or any other deadly liquid they deemed appropriate to scourge the
invaders. The defense was so effective that no invader had even seen the gates
of Roegudok Hall itself. They had all died or fled before they could come half
way into the three mile long tunnel.

Even the height
of the ceiling was specially designed to aid in defending the great inner
palace. With the tunnel only six feet tall, it hindered soldiers yet allowed
for the almost comfortable passage of invited guests, so long as he walked.
Furthermore no man could ever ride a horse through the tunnel. This fact
rendered enemy cavalry useless against the dwarves. Master Lepkin marveled at
the wisdom of the design. Even if an army managed to fight its way through
hordes of dwarven ranks without cavalry, which is unlikely in the first place,
the dwarves could fall back and unleash the burning oil, and force the
intruders out or slay them all in the tunnel. There was no threat that could
get past this defense. Except for the power of Nagar’s Secret, Lepkin knew.

Lepkin quickened
his pace. He hoped the dwarf king would see the impending danger, but wondered
if Al was right. Maybe he was wasting his time. He shook the thought from his
head. It was his duty to warn the dwarves of the danger. As the Keeper he was
sworn to look after the chosen people of the Ancients. Even if the dwarves had
turned away from the ways of the Ancients, Lepkin could at least give them this
last warning.

The main gates
to the hall were mostly shut, but a wall of golden light emitted from the
slight opening in the extremely tall, arched doors of iron. Master Lepkin
didn’t wait for the doors to be opened completely. He slipped through the small
opening, sucking in his stomach and straightening as much as possible as he
slid through. On the other side he let out his breath and straightened his belt
before continuing.

The main hall
was breathtaking. The vaulted ceilings almost disappeared well over two hundred
feet above Lepkin’s head. He might not have been able to see them if not for
the plated gold and platinum that reflected the light of the torches and oil
lamps below. Each supporting column had been hewn and smoothed to perfection.
The pink granite stone was smooth as silk and polished so much that one could
almost use it as a mirror. There were some small stone buildings nearby; a
guardhouse and a barracks for the Gate Patrol. Lepkin saw a pair of dwarves
sitting at a wooden table outside the guardhouse, eyeing him suspiciously.
Lepkin slid his cloak back to reveal his sword. The two dwarves nodded and
returned to their game of cards.

He walked
briskly past many more buildings of stone set against the wall of the western
side of the great entrance hall. He didn’t stop to notice the looks that were
cast his way or the dwarves that offered them. Counting the massive columns to
keep his bearing, he turned to the right and walked through the market. 
There were tables with trinkets of all shapes and sizes strewn over them. There
were also a few tables that offered vegetables, the kinds that grew inside the
mountain, and there were others that offered clothing, books, or weapons. He
didn’t even glance at the tables. He was too focused.

After crossing
the market he wound his way up a spiraling staircase cut right into the stone
of an irregularly large column. This wasn’t the staircase that important
visitors, like the senator, would use to get to the throne room. This staircase
was reserved for the Keeper only. It was a direct line from the entrance hall
to the throne room. It was a tight fit, too tight to use torches and allow a
man to pass through. Holes were cut into the sides of the column to provide a
little extra light from the entrance hall, but it was still very dark. The darkness
didn’t bother Lepkin though, he knew the way well enough. He was just happy
that it would shave a half hour off of the time it would take to reach the
king. 

When he reached
the top he pulled an old, white rope. A bell on the outside of the column rang
as the door to the exit slowly swung on its hinges to allow Master Lepkin to
enter the throne room. He saw only a few dwarves, mostly advisors, and a
handful of human escorts, presumably for the senator, in addition to the dwarf
king and the senator before him.

“I thought I
ordered for that door to be sealed shut,” the king bellowed.

One of the
advisors stepped forward. He wore a blue robe with the sigil of a dragon
engraven into the brooch he wore. “But, my king, that passage has been in use
for centuries.”

“I don’t care,”
the dwarf king said. His eyes locked Master Lepkin’s. “I am not as blind as my
father’s were. I do not see the intrusion of a self-empowered human to be a
good thing. I want that passageway sealed, and I want him escorted out.”

Lepkin stood
rigid. Even with what Al had said about the king, Lepkin had not expected this.
He watched as two palace guards approached. He put his hands on his hips,
taking care to keep the sword visible on his belt. “The Keeper of Secrets has
come to hold audience with the king of the dwarves, the chosen people of the
Ancients. I will not be moved until my message is delivered.”

The guards
stopped in their tracks and looked back to the king.

“I am not
interested in your superstitions, Keeper. The Ancients are nothing more than
fairy tales passed down through the ages to control the minds of the dwarf
folk. As long as I am king, I will not allow this control to persist.”

“I am here to
open your eyes,” Lepkin countered.

“The king of the
dwarves does not answer to the likes of you, knight errant,” the senator
shouted. “I am here to negotiate with his highness in these troubled times, and
your presence is not going to make this an easy task for me. Be gone!”

“I do not answer
to the senate, Senator Bracken,” Lepkin replied coolly. “As you are well aware,
the law grants me a position of authority that is autonomous from that of the
kingdom. If you have a problem with that, you may take it up with King Mathias,
but I have a hunch that he’ll agree with me.”

“King Mathias is
an old fool!” the dwarf king bellowed. He hopped down from his throne, war axe
in hand and marched over toward Master Lepkin. Senator Bracken bowed humbly and
backed away. The dwarf king stopped three paces away from Lepkin and glared at
him. His fierce, coal-black eyes were filled with indignation. The veins in his
forehead stuck out, pulsing with the rage that ran through his hot dwarven
blood. “King Mathias has not the power to hold this realm together. He relies
on old superstitions to do that for him, and look what it has brought him in
return.” The dwarf king pointed his axe at Lepkin.

Lepkin stood
motionless. His lips were silent. Only his eyes moved as they shifted their
gaze around the room and then back to the king’s angry stare.

“The Ancients will
not protect us. The kingdom falls apart. Nobles are tearing at each other’s
throats as we speak, and that senator back there wants me to swear my armies to
the senate to ensure the peace.” The dwarf king turned back to Senator Bracken
and spat on the ground. “I will not march my armies out from Roegudok Hall. The
humans started this mess, let them finish it. That is my final decision on the
matter.”

Master Lepkin
could see Senator Bracken’s face redden, but the man kept silent. Yet, he did
not move to leave. The senator watched the drama unfold between Lepkin and the
king of the dwarves. Lepkin felt something then as he regarded the senator. He
wasn’t sure what it was. It was almost like a voice whispering to him that
something about Bracken was wrong, but the feeling faded as quickly as it came.
Lepkin turned back to the dwarf king as the head of the axe came wagging closer
to his face.

“I have another
decision,” the dwarf king said. “The Keeper is no longer to be allowed entry
into Roegudok Hall. He is to be regarded as a manipulative agent of King
Mathias.”

“But, my king,”
the advisor protested from behind.

“Be silent,” the
dwarf king roared. “I will not have my kind led astray anymore by the chains of
slavery that are known to us as the ways of the Ancients. Go back and tell that
to your king, Keeper! We dwarves will remain here. Let the armies of man come
to us for a fight if they wish. Roegudok Hall has never fallen, nor will we
ever again bow to the puppet masters back in the senate, or that false king
sitting on his throne in Drakai Glazei.”

“Then, for the
sake of your people, I pray that you do not live long as king,” Master Lepkin
said. His words were loud enough for all to hear.

The rage boiled
in the king’s black eyes. “Alferug Henezard, I no longer require advice in the
ways of the Ancients. You are dismissed. Leave your robes on the floor.”

Master Lepkin
painfully watched the old dwarf undo the dragon brooch and let the blue robes
fall to the floor. Then the dwarf was escorted out of the hall by two other
palace guards. “You are a fool,” Lepkin said. “There are forces now that search
for Nagar’s Secret. They seek to gain its power and take over the whole of the
realm. You must return to the ways of the Ancients.”