“We’re no army, either,” Jebis said quietly. “And we’ll do
what you ask, so long’s we’ve a chance to escape alive.” He glanced at his
companions. Two of the hunters nodded cautiously. The third stared at the dagger
he now held, his lips moving soundlessly. He looked a bit touched to Lhors, who
couldn’t blame the man.
“Good,” Vlandar said. “Watch our two magic-users”—he
indicated Malowan and Nemis—“They are testing our path and our backtrail for
enemy, traps, pitfalls and other dangers. If either signs for you to stop or to
be still, do so.”
“We shall,” the hunter said. “Not many orders I won’t follow
to get out of here.”
“Sensible,” Malowan murmured. “Now, if you must speak for any
reason, get my attention or Nemis’ or Vlandar’s and do this”—he held up a hand,
first finger extended. “If it is safe to talk, the response is this”—he held up
an open hand, all fingers pressed together—“and if not, this”—he drew a slashing
hand across his throat.
“Simple enough,” Jebis said. He rapidly ran through all three
signs, tersely naming each.
Vlandar nodded. “Good. Now, you can make out the throne down
there? There are two guards behind it, but Nemis has bespelled them. All the
same, be swift and quiet.”
They crossed the great cave and passed the dais without
challenge. Vlandar gestured urgently, and they covered the distance eastward
quickly, entered a narrowing passage blocked at its inner end with one of the
slabs of rock used as doors. Nemis spelled it to one side while Malowan tested
the passages beyond for immediate danger. The paladin shook his head, then he
and Nemis led the way in, leaving Khlened, Vlandar, and Bleryn to shift the
stone back into place.
The chamber beyond was cool but not unbearably so after the
drafty great cave. This room might have been a private audience hall for the
Jarl’s important guests. Tables and chairs dotted the area, and on one Lhors
could see scrolls. A few weapons hung from the wall. Pelts covered the floor and
the icy stone walls. Another passage went north into darkness, and the east end
of this long, skinny room was blocked by hides from ceiling to floor.
Vlandar set Maera to watch north and west, Rowan to keep an
eye on the east curtains, then let Malowan perform a reveal danger spell on the
chamber itself while Nemis did something similar over near the east wall.
Everyone else waited close to the doorway they’d just come through until the two
magicians nodded and gestured that the chamber was free of traps.
Vlandar divided the party and set them to various tasks,
leaving the rangers where they were and getting Khlened, Bleryn, and Gerikh to
search the chamber for anything useful.
Agya and Lhors were left with Florimund.
The thief’s nose wrinkled, and she touched Lhors’ hand.
Animal smell.
She pointed toward the leather-draped east wall. The youth
shrugged, but when Rowan glanced his way, he caught her attention and signed.
Rowan nodded, slacked her bowstring long enough to sign,
Yes. Beasts in
there,
then turned back to keep watch.
Lhors glanced at his companions. Agya swallowed hard as she
interpreted the rangers sign, then turned as Florimund began to sway, his eyes
half closed. Thief and villager caught the half-elf before he could fall over.
The pile of ivory tusks he would have landed on would have made a hellish
clatter. Lhors and Agya eased the fellow down, exchanging exasperated looks over
him. Nemis, who must have been watching the half-elf, padded quickly across the
chamber and clamped a hand over Florimund’s mouth as he and hauled the half-elf
up and off his feet. Florimund struggled feebly, but Nemis was already at
Maera’s side, where he set the fellow down with some remark to the ranger that
Lhors couldn’t hear. She scowled at the mage but patted her kinsman’s hand and
let him crouch next to her.
Everyone froze as a deep giant voice asked a question from
the next room. A resonant female voice replied, and something that sounded like
a large dog whined eagerly. Vlandar gestured for Nemis to join Rowan, then drew
the others just into the hallway leading up to the gentry’s quarters. “There is
nothing for us in here. There is at least one chamber behind those hides where
Rowan keeps watch, and beyond it, two giants and two wolves.”
Jebis made the safe to talk sign, even though Vlandar had
been speaking, if very quietly.
Malowan held up a hand for yes and nodded. “Beg pardon, sir,
but that voice we just heard? That was their leader, I’m sure of it.”
“I believe you may be right,” Malowan said. “By the location,
if nothing else, and I sense power in there. If so, the other may be his lady,
and the wolves both pets and guards. Back north is a vast cavern, with many
giants. Families, I think. If the Jarl is here, they may be his nobles.”
“It seems likely,” Vlandar said. “We’ve a pocket of silence
here, thanks to Nemis’ spell. I’d like one of his sleep spells to deal with
what’s in there. I don’t want to start a fight here. Those nobles or whatever
they are would not hear, thanks to Nemis, but others might be drawn from
passages or guard points eastward.” Vlandar considered this briefly. He then
waved to catch Nemis’ eye and broadly pantomimed sleep.
The mage smiled grimly, nodded, and turned away. A few
moments later, he turned back to nod once more.
* * *
Vlandar led them back into the main room. Nemis, who had been
walking with Rowan, approached the warrior. The ranger looked very unhappy about
something, Lhors thought.
As Rowan marched over to begin speaking in urgent tones with
the paladin, Nemis stepped close to Vlandar and said, “Listen, please. We dare
not leave the Jarl and his lady alive.”
Vlandar gave him a puzzled look.
“They sleep now. Execute them while they sleep—call it
justice for the deaths they’ve caused. They will feel no pain. Leave those two
alive, and they’ll spill more innocent blood.”
Vlandar nodded sharply. “I agree. Still, to kill anyone
asleep like that…”
“You need have no part,” Nemis urged. “Mal certainly must not
be part of it or even know what we do until it’s done. Rowan will distract him
once we’re in there, but—”
“Too late,” Malowan said. He’d come up unnoticed. Behind him,
Rowan cast Nemis a tired glance and shrugged. “Nemis, you cannot do this, not
while I am here, and I will not leave.”
“I’ll send
you
to sleep then!” The mage hissed in
annoyance.
The paladin shook his head. “No. If we were attacked, you
would need me.” Malowan looked at Vlandar. “Tell me you have not countenanced
this.”
“Not here and now,” Vlandar broke in grimly. “Get inside that
chamber, and we’ll talk.”
Malowan set his jaw, beckoned his ward close, and went.
“Sorry,” Rowan muttered as she passed Nemis. “I did all I
could, but he became suspicious.”
“A plague on the pure-hearted,” Nemis growled and followed
her up the two steps and around the leather drape. Vlandar waited until everyone
else was out of sight, then gestured for Lhors to go ahead of him.
It was nearly warm inside the Jarl’s private chamber—and that
was what it must be, Lhors decided. The furnishings were too fine for any but
the ruler and his lady. He glanced around. The chamber was large but so
cluttered that Lhors wondered if frost giant nobles even knew the concept of
cleaning maids.
Vlandar got everyone close together again to get everyone
searching the chamber, but Malowan, his face pale and his mouth set,
interrupted. “We are blocked from behind by Nemis’ spell of silence, and there
is nothing and no one to the east. I tested. Vlandar, you cannot let him do
this.”
“I can,” the warrior replied steadily, “and if it seems the
best course to me, I will. Mal, be sensible. Take Agya and go out of sight. What
bloodshed these
two have caused—”
“That is between them and the gods,” Malowan said flatly.
“They are living beings, and unlikely as it seems to any of us, they may one day
become good.”
Khlened snorted in disbelief.
Malowan fixed him with a flat look, and the barbarian
subsided. “Even if they do not, their fellow mortals are not given the right to
judge. I will not risk the path I have taken for so many years, simply because
this mage—”
“This mage,
is it?” Nemis said stiffly. “Your Heironeous
won’t take your powers from you because of
my
choices, my friend, and you
and I both know it.”
“I will not let you do this,” Malowan gritted.
“You cannot stop me,” Nemis replied.
“Mal, listen at ’im,” Agya urged in the uncomfortable silence
that followed. “C’mon, you an me, we’ll just go that way, y’won’t see a thing.”
She shrank back as Malowan transferred the glare to her. He
must be upset or very angry, Lhors thought. As far as
he
could tell, the
mage didn’t even notice his ward’s reaction, though normally he was careful not
to upset her.
“I have not decided yet,” Vlandar began.
Malowan shook his head, silencing the warrior. “Yes, you
have. Don’t think me a fool because of my calling, Vlandar.”
“I don’t—”
“Then don’t pretend you haven’t seen them dead in your mind
and felt good because of it!” the paladin snapped.
“I have seen them dead, and I’d be glad for it,” Vlandar said
evenly. “My friend, we’re wasting time we do not have. Search the chamber for
the things you know we need, and I’ll study the problem while you do.”
“Oh?” Malowan swung around to face him. “And what of
their
time?”
“Give it up, Mal,” Vlandar demanded harshly. “Take Agya and
go past that drape to the east. I’ll see to it they don’t suffer.”
“And if I won’t go?”
Vlandar’s jaw clenched. Even Lhors could tell that the
warrior was swiftly becoming angry himself. “You will go, even if I have to get
Khlened and Bleryn to drag you. I’d rather not, but Mal, I will if you leave me
no other choice. I ask this out of our friendship, but remember that you swore
to follow my orders along with everyone else.”
Silence. Lhors noticed the four kitchen prisoners had moved
back away from the verbal sparring. He couldn’t blame them. It made him
uncomfortable to hear Malowan, Nemis, and Vlandar arguing.
Lhors jumped as someone touched his arm. It was Nemis, who
was very red in the face, particularly for one normally so pale.
“What say you, lad?” the mage asked quietly. He used his eyes
to gesture behind him at the sleeping giants.
The two had been at table drinking wine. On the far side of
the great slab of wood, a massive, silver-haired giantess slept awkwardly in a
chair, her face pressed into the table, arms dangling. Lhors could just make out
the two wolves sprawled by her feet. Nearer to him, the Jarl lay in a heap on
thick fur rugs. The giant was snoring faintly.
“What do you mean?” the youth whispered.
Nemis smiled grimly. “I know these two by repute. They have
personally killed hundreds of humans and elves. By their orders, many hundreds
more have died—just as your family and all those in your village died, or as
Jebis and the hunters would have.”
Lhors stared at the sleeping giants, vaguely aware of Vlandar
and Malowan still arguing behind him.
“Imagine being held in a cage,” the mage whispered, “with
giants all about to tease you that very soon you would be cut into pieces and
eaten, or bound alive over a spit….” He hesitated as Lhors cringed away
from him, eyes tightly closed and a hand over his mouth.
Do not think about the babes and that soup pot! At the
moment, it was all he could see. Then in a flash the image of his father
eclipsed everything—his father pinned to the ground, writhing with a spear the
size of a young tree trunk through his gut.
Nemis touched his shoulder and gasped, then laid both hands
on the youths face, pulling him around. “I am sorry, lad. I didn’t know, though
I should have suspected. I did not mean to cause you such pain.”
Lhors nodded, eyes still tightly closed. He couldn’t speak.
Nemis let go of him. “But if these two, the Jarl and his
lady, were part of the command that set Nosnra’s giants against your village, if
you could avenge your father and your village now would you?”
Lhors drew a deep breath and opened his eyes. To his
astonishment, the mage held out a long dagger.
“There is no burden on you to do this. Any of the four men
held prisoner in that kitchen yonder might be willing, but they faced only loss
of life, however dreadful it might have been. You lost your family, your
village, and your father—everything you knew. It is your choice. If you strike,
you grant them a cleaner death than your father had. While another may become
Jarl here, at least this one will order no more deaths.”
Lhors gazed longingly at the hilt. Father, I swore I would
avenge you, and here within my reach…
But he wouldn’t even reach for the blade. “I know you are
right, Nemis—about them and all giants. But no, not like this. My father—it
cannot change that he is dead, and it would not avenge anything. Not for me.”
Nemis eyed him gravely then shoved the dagger back into its
sheath. “As you choose,” was all he said as he turned away.
Lhors drew a deep, shuddering breath, blotted his eyes on his
sleeve, and realized Vlandar and Malowan were still arguing fiercely. The whole
exchange with Nemis had taken next to no time at all.
Khlened had come up unnoticed. “Done right, boy,” he muttered
and patted the youths shoulder awkwardly. “I’m no headsman either. There’s no
glory in butcherin’ a sleepin’ foe.”
Bleryn snorted. “Listen at ’em, arguing whether such killers
deserve to live. Small wonder dwarves don’t go for being paladins. We got more
sense’n that. This is execution flat out, not murder. Such brutes don’t deserve
an honorable death.”
Behind them, Malowan’s voice rose. Nemis swore angrily and
began muttering a spell. Khlened ran over to help Vlandar wrestle the paladin
down. It took Gerikh’s help to get it done, and as Nemis stepped back, the
paladin’s angry, weeping voice was abruptly silenced, though the man clearly was
still bellowing at Vlandar and the others to let him go.