In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (19 page)

BOOK: In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords)
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Even tiny Squire’s Knot had a representative Elf – a rarity, since so few Elves ever left their homes nowadays. His frown belied the stereotypical serenity of that race.

The final person emerged from the darkness and knelt before Maelgyn. The cut of the man’s clothing and the brooch on his shoulder confused Maelgyn greatly: The man kneeling before him was a Baron of Borden Isle.

“What—” Maelgyn started, but he was quickly cut off.

“All right,” El’Athras said. “Before you go shooting your mouth off, a few introductions. Today we’ll be explaining some history you humans may have never learned about – not exactly my strong suit, so I’ll let my allies do it for me. It is my honor to present Emperor Gyato of Caseificio, the Nekoji nation which borders your Province of Sopan.” The Nekoji stood up and bowed, shaking his lion-like mane. “At your feet is Prince Uwelain, a Baron in the Borden Isles.”

Maelgyn stared at Uwelain, uncertain how to deal with the man. He gestured for the man to stand. “Please, you owe me no fealty; our Kingdoms are no longer united.”

Uwelain stood up, looking slightly embarrassed. “My lord, knowing what Emperor Gyato is about to tell you, I believe that may soon change.”

Maelgyn nodded silently, too startled to do more.

El’Athras continued the introductions, gesturing to the Elf. “This is Spearmaster Wangdu, who has served many nations in his millennia of life but of late hails from Squire’s Knot.” Wangdu inclined his head. “And next to him is Kazdre of the Bandi Republic, with which Mar’Tok enjoys relations peaceful enough to share our intelligence.” The Centaur bowed to Maelgyn. “He is our liaison with their spymasters, and will sit in on this meeting on their behalf. Emperor Gyato, however, will begin.”

The Nekoji stepped forward and shook his mane regally. “Greetings, Sword Prince Maelgyn. There is much that has gone on in this world that you humans are not aware of, but the time has come for that to change.”

“In that case, speak on,” Maelgyn answered. “But I may have a few questions along the way. The first of which is how is it that you all arrived here without getting muddy walking through that cave?”

“We used the other door,” Baron Uwelain said, trying to hide his laughter. “Although, we all have taken that muddy pass to this chamber at least once before.”

“This is the King’s Hall,” El’Athras explained. “None may enter the King’s Hall unless they have traveled the Path of the Ancients at least once. It’s one of the few Dwarven ceremonies we keep sacred.”


The
King’s Hall?” Maelgyn was surprised even though he had guessed correctly. He had always believed that the King’s Hall was a thing of myth, but it seemed he was mistaken. “So this is where the Dwarven people were born... and where the last King of All Dwarves fell.”

“With the scars of that fateful battle preserved for all time. Look around you,” Gyato noted. The closer Maelgyn looked, the more he realized that, amid the muck and mud, there were also artifacts of a time the Dwarves were strong: Small tablets with aged Dwarven script, a horned helmet of the now defunct sea-faring Dwarven clans hanging by the fire pit, and sticking in one wall, cracked and rusted....

“Is that a Dwarven battleaxe?” he asked, intrigued.

“Yeah, what of it?” El’Athras snapped back defensively.

“I thought they were a myth,” Maelgyn exclaimed. “I loved hearing stories of the Dwarven axemen’s valor when I was young, but later my history lessons made me doubt their existence.”

“No myth were they,” Gyato explained lyrically. “Two millennia ago, when the Dwarves first left their caves to meet the outside world, many were taken as slaves as they tried to cross the plains, and were prized as laborers and engineers. The Dwarves still in their caves were unaware of what their surface brethren were enduring, but then the slavemasters became bolder and sent raiding parties into the Dwarven homeland.

“The Dwarves learned to dig deep, to hide, and to swing an axe in battle. The axe was ideal in cave conditions. Its short range was an advantage rather than a disadvantage, for it could be wielded with enormous power in cramped surroundings.

“They trained in secret, and soon had an impressive army that massacred every incursion into the caves. They knew how to fight, and fight well... but only when inside the caves. The problems came when they tried fighting outside of those caves.

“After fighting off numerous attacks, including raids from Humans, Elves, and even Nekoji, the Dwarves decided it was time to show the outside world that they weren’t going to be pushed around anymore. They struck out first against Humanity... and were promptly trounced. The axes they wielded so effectively in the caves could not defeat the spears and swords of the Porosian hoplites on open ground. The Dwarves retreated to their caves to debate what to do.

“Three groups formed: the Plains Dwarves, Sea Dwarves, Cave Dwarves, each espousing their own philosophy for how to deal with the other races.

“Today, only the Plains Dwarves remain. They survived by their inventiveness, learning techniques and skills to counter the advantages of other races. The Dwarven wolf riders were the first to come from their experiments, and when first formed they were the most effective cavalry on the plains. Only my own people, the Nekoji, could match their wolves for speed, and we could not match an armored wolf rider in battle. The Plains Dwarves then adopted the traditional weapon of the Porosian woman, the naginata. With the reach of a polearm and the flexibility of a sword, it quickly became the weapon of choice among all the warriors of the Plains Dwarves. While neither made the same impression as the Dwarven Axemen of old, these elements have allowed the Plains Dwarves to survive to this day.

“The Sea Dwarves lived as much of their lives as possible aboard ships, and developed a close relationship with the Merfolk – the only race that had never tried to enslave the Dwarves. They were feared and respected for their seamanship and their craft with tools of war and navigation. They invented the compass, the astrolabe, the crossbow, and many other things we use today, but they and many of their other creations are now lost to history. Only a few of their former settlements on the Borden Isles, abandoned and in ruins, remain to prove that they ever truly existed.

“The Cave Dwarves advocated staying in the caves and perfecting their skills with the battle axe. But after the death of Tur’ma, last King of All Dwarves, the Cave Dwarves fell apart, and the Merchant Princes took power. Fewer Cave Dwarves joined their armies, becoming merchants or tradesmen instead, and gradually their armies dwindled to where they could no longer defend their cities. Mar’Tok, the ancestral home of all Dwarves and the center of power for the Cave Dwarves, was sacked, its population slaughtered. The Plains Dwarves spent three decades rescuing those Cave Dwarves who had been enslaved and reclaiming the city, and have held it ever since. A colony of the few surviving Cave Dwarves, most ex-slaves with no military training, left to found the Dwarven Kingdom of Sho’Curlas. They never recovered their numbers, and were finally wiped out by an army of Elves aided Humans. Since then, there have been no true Dwarven Axemen.

“They were fearsome warriors once, of course. Indeed, only one Elf survived the initial battle in Sho’Curlas. But he escaped, and rallied a nearby settlement of Humans to his cause. Together, they defeated those Cave Dwarves who remained.

“That joining of forces led to the founding of the Sho’Curlas Alliance you know now. Since that time, Sho’Curlas has been the greatest enemy of the Dwarves... led by Hrabak, the same immortal Elf who led the war against the last of the Cave Dwarves so long ago.”

Maelgyn looked up, surprised. “Sho’Curlas is led by an
Elf?

“It is a sad case, it is,” the Squire’s Knot Elf interrupted, speaking with peculiarly Elvish quirks and accents. “We Elves are immortal, we are, but our minds can be ravaged by time, they can. Hrabak went insane, he did, in the war against the Cave Dwarves. He believes in ‘peace,’ he does, like most Elves... but he believes that means destroying all nations he does not rule. And he may do it, too, he may, for the High Kings of Sho’Curlas are not truly the ones in power, they aren’t. Hrabak is the true power behind the throne, he is, and he has been directing them for the past thousand years, he has. Many other Elves believe he may soon emerge from behind the throne to seize it, we do.”

“We have reports that Sho’Curlas has trained at least fifty Black Dragons as beasts of war,” El’Athras said. “Not even the Oregal Republic has more than twenty dragon-riders at any one time. It would be expected of Hrabak’s tactics, however – employing Dragons as war machines has been an Elven tactic since the earliest records tell.”

Maelgyn wasn’t alone in not knowing that bit of news, as several of the others at the meeting started talking to one another in dismay, but Gyato quickly motioned them all to silence, with an impatient ruffling of his mane. “We are here because we now know what is really going on, and because we believe Svieda is really the only hope of stopping Hrabak.”

With that, everyone went silent. Maelgyn stared in wonder at those around him. As the eclectic mix of peoples here showed, every nation in the world but his had knowledge of what was taking place, and yet his nation was the one which needed this information the most. Yet now that he knew this information, what could he do with it? It took an army to slay
any
kind of dragon – even the “weaker” Red Dragons from which his dragonhide armor was made. Fifty Black Dragons would cost tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of soldiers to stop. Svieda may have the capacity to deal with such an assault, but they could not deal with both the dragons and the million armed soldiers of Sho’Curlas’ armies.

“Dear God,” Maelgyn whispered.

“You have resources you may call upon that might tip the balance in your scale,” Uwelain said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. The Borden islander shifted uncomfortably. “The Golden Dragons still reside in my home province.”

Unlike the untamable Red Dragons (which were prized for their hides) or the semi-domesticated Black Dragons (which could – with some risk – be raised as military mounts), Golden Dragons were intelligent creatures who could speak like any of the Five Great Races could, but they rarely entered into alliances with anyone.

Even before the first Humans arrived on its shores, Borden had boasted a small tribe of Golden Dragons. The Sword Kings of Svieda had negotiated with them when colonizing the island, and while they refused a direct alliance they granted Svieda a boon rarely given in return for preserving their safehaven. The Golden Dragons agreed to come to Svieda’s aide whenever another nation employed dragons against it – be those dragons Red, Black, or Gold themselves. Maelgyn’s own dragonhide armor was a gift from the first fruits of that agreement, when the Golden Dragons of Borden Isle defeated a nest of red dragons that had been attacking shipping lanes. They had been called upon four times since that alliance began, and met their obligation each time with honor.

Unfortunately for Svieda, that alliance was now dormant thanks to the Borden Isle Rebellion: The Golden Dragons announced they would withhold their protection from both sides until the war between the Borden Isles and its mother country was over.

Maelgyn frowned. “That won’t do us much good,” he answered. “Whatever you may think, sir, I doubt Borden Isle will rejoin us in time for it to matter.”

“You’ve got some time,” El’Athras said. “Sho’Curlas doesn’t plan to reveal its dragons until Svieda is defeated, if it can help it. Its dragons are still a secret Hrabak hopes to reserve for a later strike against Oregal.”

Maelgyn snorted. “Just how do you know that?”

“That,” El’Athras replied, “is a long story for another time. We need to concentrate on the important things, now.”

“Like returning the Borden Isles to their proper place,” Baron Uwelain added, “As a loyal province of Svieda.”

“How?” Maelgyn asked. “We’ve been warring with Borden for nearly eighty years.”

“El’Athras and Gyato have proof that Sho’Curlas instigated the rebellion. Svieda’s poor treatment of Sword Ivari at her marriage to Laimoth was staged, and Elaneth was corrupted by Hrabak’s lies. Now you are at war with our
true
enemy. I believe my people will want to join that war, once they learn where their anger should truly be directed even though it means ending the rebellion.”

Maelgyn frowned. That sounded rather... idealistic, to him. “And the current Sword of Borden Isle? What will
he
think?”

The baron stood up again. “Well, that’s where I come in. Sword Ivari and Lord Laimoth had two sons, Koheil and Elaneth. Elaneth, the presumptive Sword Prince, died leading the rebellion, but Koheil survived the war. He was my grandfather and I am the last of his line. The current Sword Prince, Paljor, is the son of a more distant relative and, to my mind, a usurper. He rules with an iron fist and already is unpopular among the commoners. He will lose the support of the nobility as well, once they see that he is in the pay of Sho’Curlas.

Maelgyn raised an eyebrow. “You’re a descendant of Prince Koheil? I thought he died without having any children.”

“Not exactly. The official story was that he passed away while making the journey to be invested as the next Sword following his parents’ deaths. At least, that’s what everyone outside of the Borden Isles believed.

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