The Half Dwarf Prince: 02 - The Dwarf War (13 page)

“Who had you poison my family?”

The man stared at the king for a second as if he was confused, then he looked to the queen.

The king turned to face his wife. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“He could take your throne, you fool! I did this for us. You wouldn’t listen to reason. They love her, they accept you, and he is in the direct bloodline. Eventually they will take your throne from you,” she spat.

The people around the room burst into a commotion of protest and accusations. The king held up one hand
, and they all quieted.

“Guards,” he said
, and the two of the guards on the platform each grabbed her by one arm. The king stared into the eyes of his wife. “Queen Priscilla Patria, you are guilty of conspiring to kill a member of the Patria bloodline. The penalty for that crime is death. Because you are my wife, I will allow you to choose the axe or the rope.”

“You would kill your own wife?” she shouted at him.

“There is only one penalty for your crime. You are not the woman I married. I do not know the woman who would do this. Axe or rope?”

“You wield the axe
, then!” she shouted in his face.

Grundel had to give her
credit. She was evil, but in the face of death she stood bravely. She was also punishing the king. She knew it would torture a good man like the king to do what she demanded.

The king nodded. “I see no reason to postpone this. Your sentence will be carried out at first light. I thank the gods they did not curse me with your child.”

The woman grasped hold of a single thread of hope. Her angry demeanor softened. “Your Highness, I could be with child now. Would you kill your own child?” she asked.

People began to stir uncomfortably. The king held up a hand again.
“You are not with child; you just finished bleeding three days past. Master Brennin will confirm you are not pregnant before your sentence is carried out. Guards, get her out of my sight.”

The king had been very official, but Grundel saw the pain in his eyes. His mother must have seen it
, too, because she went to his side, putting one hand on his shoulder, as he watched the guards escort his wife out of the room.

“Remember to bring back all of the armor and weapons from the ones that fall,” King Merwein was telling Rupert when Bergmann walked into the audience hall.

“You have nothing to worry about
, Merwein. I told you that you’d get everything back, didn’t I?” Bergmann told the man who called himself king.

“I am just reminding Rupert is all
, King Bergmann. I still don’t know why you have to take him with you,” King Merwein said.

“I think he could be useful
. That is all the reason you need. Just sit here and enjoy your money. I will take care of the rest,” Bergmann said. He couldn’t wait to set him up. Watching the last of the Merwein line die, and seeing the collapse of this city, would be almost as satisfying as taking over the other dwarf kingdoms. They were growing weak, too. Not as weak as this pathetic man, but they were on their way there. They had just put a queen in charge of one of the kingdoms. Delvidge had weakened them, and now he was going to finish the job.

“Let
’s go, Rupert. The king has a lot of—whatever he does—to do,” Bergmann said, and Rupert followed him, leaving King Merwein alone in the audience chamber with his new personal guards.

Bergmann looked over at the man as they walked. “What was all of that about
?” he asked.

Rupert showed his usual control over everything he did. He never showed any emotion or gave anything away they might
reveal what he was thinking. “He wanted to know why you were bringing me with you, King Bergmann.”

“That much was clear. I want to know what he was really trying to figure out,” Bergmann said to the man.

“I can only guess at his intentions, King Bergmann,” the man answered him.

“Well
, if you had to guess, what would you say he was trying to figure out while he was interrogating you?” He knew that Rupert was a very observant and capable man, but it irritated him to no end how much he could make you work for a simple answer.

“If I were to guess, I would say that he was trying to determine if I was still his man
, King Bergmann,” Rupert answered.

“You mean he thinks that I have bribed you,” Bergmann asked.

“I believe the king is worried that I might use my time with you to establish an alliance with you. I believe he thinks that, if I did so, I could take his throne for myself, King Bergmann,” Rupert said, plainly explaining what he thought.

Bergmann stared at the man for a minute. “Are you still his man
?” he asked.

“You want to know if I am plotting to take the throne for myself
, King Bergmann?”

“Stop playing games
, Rupert, you know what I am asking,” Bergmann demanded.

“I simply wanted to confirm that my interpretation of your question was correct. To answer your question
, King Bergmann, no, I do not want to be king. It is a very dangerous position,” he answered.

“Your king doesn’t seem to be in any danger,” Bergmann said.

“His place is somewhat less precarious because of his claim, but I am certain that we are not the only ones in this city who are having a conversation like this one. I believe our conversation alone would be enough to suggest that being the king is dangerous, even for the one with the right claim and bloodline, King Bergmann,” Rupert said with absolutely no emotion.

Bergmann just shook his head in frustration. “Let
’s go, Rupert. The troops should be formed up. My army is waiting outside the city. The sooner we start this trip, the sooner we can be done with this war.”

When they arrived at what had once been a parade field
, the sun was just barely coming up over the horizon. Commander Boris stood at the front of the formation. All of the battalions were formed up like they had been the first morning. The only difference was that this morning there were a couple dozen wagons staged behind them.

“Good morning
, King Bergmann. All troops are accounted for and ready to march.”

“How many tried to run away last night?” Bergmann asked.

“We caught twenty-four trying to escape the city, and two who were hiding out this morning. It is less than we expected, King Bergmann,” Commander Boris answered matter-of-factly.

“Of course it is. Where are they
?” Bergmann asked the commander.

“They
are all chained to the back of one of the wagons, King Bergmann,” Commander Boris said, pointing to a wagon on the far end of the field.

“Keep the men in formation and bring the cowards forward
, Commander,” Bergmann said, looking out over the army.

Boris brought his fist to his chest, then he turned and marched to the wagon he had pointed to. It took a few minutes before he came out from behind the wagon with a length of chain in one hand. The chain
was attached to shackles around the first man’s hands, and continued on to link to each of the twenty-five men behind him. Each set of shackles had a three-foot length of chain that could link into another set of shackles, allowing them to add or remove more at any given time. Commander Boris led the men out and stopped them in front of Bergmann. Soldiers stood at each end of the line with their swords drawn.

Commander Boris turned the end of the chain over to one of the soldiers and marched back in front of
Bergmann.

Bergmann looked up at the
commander. “Commander Boris, go get me the commander of each of these men. If he is a regular soldier, bring me his lieutenant. If he is a lieutenant, bring his captain.”

It took a few minutes
, but they all ended up standing in a rank in front of Bergmann, with Commander Boris in front of them.

Bergmann looked down the line of commanders. There were only thirteen of them, which meant that most of these men had tried to escape in pairs or groups. It was expected
; men would talk each other into being cowards with them.

“Each of you go stand in front of the man from your unit
who ran,” he shouted to the men, and then he turned to Commander Boris. “Who is the most senior man who ran?”

“A company commander named
Lieutenant—”

Bergmann cut him off. “His name is not important. Just take me to him.”

They walked to the end of the line where a tall man with dark hair stood. His battalion commander stood in front of him. “Captain, is there another man in this line that belongs to you?”

“Yes
, King Bergmann,” the man answered.

“Go to him,” Bergmann said, and the man saluted and moved to the third man in line.

Bergmann stared up at the senior man who had tried to escape. “You abandoned your men. You left them to their fate. Each of you who left is another sword not being swung in battle.” He lifted his war axe off his back. He saw the man piss himself. Bergmann shook his head and then swung his axe, driving it into the face of the man. The man next to him shrieked and got pulled closer as the lieutenant fell, pulling on his shackles.

Bergmann turned to the commander next to him. “You failed to keep all of your men disciplined and prepared. Now you will make it right,” Bergmann told the lieutenant.

The man stared at him and then looked at his soldier in front of him. “I know this man, King Bergmann,” the lieutenant said.

“Then you should have known that he was a coward and done something about it. Now
, take out your sword and put it through his heart, Lieutenant,” Bergmann ordered.

The man looked at his soldier again
, then back to King Bergmann. “I won’t do it,” he said. He had barely finished the sentence when Bergmann’s axe came down, cutting through his shoulder and down into his chest. The man fell to the ground, and Bergmann put his foot on the man’s chest and pulled his axe free with the sound of bone grinding against steel. He looked at Commander Boris and nodded at the man on the ground. Commander Boris drew his own sword and drove it into the man’s heart.

They went down the line
, and none of the other commanders offered any argument. Some of them killed two; one of them had to kill four of his men. When it was done, Bergmann turned to Boris.

“Make sure everyone know
s that the punishment for running is death, and it is to be carried out by the soldier’s commander on the spot. Now, get them moving. It’s a two-month march to Evermount.”

King Bergmann walked down the streets of Portwein at the front of the army
, with Commander Boris on his right and Rupert on his left. The army marched down the street toward the gate in companies, with each company marching in four ranks.

King Paul Patria stood on the platform at the front of the city square. It was early: the sun was just shining its first rays of light over the horizon. Everything was still gray. The announcement of the queen’s execution had spread quickly, though, and even with the early time and little notice, the square was full of people—tens of thousands of men, women, and children filled the area waiting to see the event.

Public executions were not a common occurrence in Patria. It was one of the many lessons he had taken from his cousin’s father before he had passed. “Do not give your people a taste for blood
, because once they start asking for it, they will never stop,” King Patrick had told him. He held public executions only for people who committed crimes against the state. The last time had been nearly a year ago, when a man had broken into the city treasury. The man had been captured on his way out. The king wouldn’t have held a public execution for that—it was a failed robbery, and he would have simply put the man in the dungeons; but the man had killed one of the palace guards trying to escape.

Now he had to impose the same punishment on the woman he loved. He had told his wife that she was not the woman he married. He had told himself he was only doing his duty. When her parents had come to him last night
, begging him to spare her life, it had taken everything in him to hold back the tears. They were one of the most powerful families in the city. Regardless of what he said or even tried to convince himself of, he knew that he loved this woman. He had married her because he loved her. Sure, it had been his duty to marry someone of importance and leave an heir to the throne, continuing the Patria line, but he and Priscilla had loved each other. The hardest thing for him to swallow was that he knew deep down that, in her own twisted way, she really had done this for him.

He stood on the platform with members of the palace guard at the steps on each side, in front and behind him. He watched as his wife was led up those stairs in
shackles. Anna, Jerrie, and Grundel stood on the platform behind him. The two dwarves stood at the bottom of each of the stairways, ready to come running to the aid of their queen. His soldiers had orders not to stop any of the members of his cousin’s group. The halfling was standing on the roof of the building directly behind the platform with his archers. He had said that someone should be up high where they could see.

People were booing the queen as she was forced up the steps. They brought her across the stage to stand next to him.

“What will it be then?” he asked stonily. He had to hide behind his duty to get through this.

“Don’t do this
, Paul, I am your wife.” It was the first time she had ever used his name in front of others.

“Which will it be
?” he asked again. She started crying. “The axe will be quickest,” he told her. She just continued to cry. She had been bold last night, but now, at the moment of her death, that boldness was defeated by fear. “The axe,” he told the executioner, who was actually just one of the soldiers from the palace guard, who had accepted the duty when Paul had taken the throne.

The block was brought out. The block was just a piece of wood that
, when the person laid their head over it, exposed the neck and provided something solid beneath it to make sure that the execution was done cleanly. Paul had read about executions in which the executioner hacked at the neck of a person three or four times before he was finally able to remove the head from the shoulders; in most of those cases, the execution had been done with the victim kneeling and bending their head forward. That left nothing to support the head, and when the sword slammed into the back of their neck, they were knocked to the ground. He wouldn’t accept something gruesome like that being done in Patria. If people had to be executed in Patria it would be done quickly. Even his gallows were set up to drop the person and break their neck, not like the gallows in Portwein, where they let a person strangle to death. These thoughts gave him little comfort as he held out his hand to the executioner.

“Give me the axe,” he told the man.

The man hesitated.

“The queen has requested that I carry out the sentence personally. I will not deny her last wish if it is something I am in a position to give her.”

The executioner handed the king the axe. It wasn’t like a battle-axe, where the axe was forged with anchor points to the hilt that allowed less metal to be used, making it lighter. The head of this axe was long and connected to the handle all the way down. It would be a terrible weapon in a fight because it was so top-heavy, but the extra weight helped ensure that the blade did its job. He turned toward the crowd, holding up one hand. The people quieted. They wouldn’t all be able to hear, but what he said would pass back in the crowd. It would be reinterpreted dozens of times, but the general message would remain the same.

“Queen Priscilla Patria attempted to take the life of my cousin
, Princess Anna Patria, and my nephew, Prince Grundel Patria Stoneheart, the current heir to the throne. The law is clear that the only acceptable punishment for attempts on the life of any member of the Patria line is death. This morning that punishment will be carried out.” He turned to the queen. “Do you have any last words?”

“You will see that I was right. I hope this day haunts you for the rest of your life,” she said
, holding to defiance in her final moment.

“I can promise you that it will,” he told her before nodding to the soldier
, who snapped a thin collar around her neck and pulled her down over the block. The collar connected to hooks on each side of the block, which prevented the person being executed from moving their neck at the last second. King Paul looked down at his wife’s exposed neck. He raised the heavy axe over his head and brought it down hard. His aim was true. He watched his wife’s lifeless body fall to the ground at his feet as blood pooled around them. He handed the axe to the executioner. A single tear ran down his face as he walked down the steps of the platform. He didn’t even hear the condolences of the people as he walked past them. The soldiers kept the crowd back, and he walked to the palace in a trance.

Grundel sat in his mother’s room. The morning’s events had been difficult. The king had done what he felt needed to be done, but Grundel felt partially responsible. They were all in the main room of his mother’s apartment when there was a knock at the door. Jerrie opened it, and Master Brennin entered the room.

“Your Highness
, the king would like to speak with you,” he said to Grundel. Grundel stood, and Rundo and Jerrie moved to follow. “He would like to speak to his nephew
alone
,” Brennin said, in a tone that made it clear that this was not negotiable.

Grundel nodded to the others and followed the man out of the room. He didn’t bother asking what the king wanted. He knew by now that Master Brennin would have told him if the king had told him to, and he hadn’t, so he wouldn’t.

They passed through the general audience chamber and stopped at the door to the king’s personal audience chamber. One of the two guards opened the door. They walked into the room, but the king wasn’t there, and Brennin kept walking to the door on the far side of the room. He knocked on that door.

“Come in,” the king said from inside the room.

Brennin opened the door and motioned for him to enter. Grundel walked into the room and Master Brennin closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with the king in his personal chambers. Grundel looked around the room.

In the center of the far wall was a very large bed with deep purple blankets and too many pillows. There were
a half dozen dressers in the room, all made of a dark wood that Grundel was not familiar with. It was likely very expensive. Most of the drawers were open, and there was a large pile of clothing on the floor with jewelry boxes on top of it. In the corner of the room the king sat in a big cushioned chair.

“You ready to go after those Black Dragons?” he asked.

Grundel saw that his face was red and his eyes were very puffy. He had been crying. “I am, Your Highness.”

“Good. Today we will purge my city of evil. Before I give my men their orders
, I want to ask how you will fight the wizards.”

“We have special armor that protects us from magic
, Your Highness. On top of that, everyone in my group has weapons that penetrate the magical defenses of a wizard. It would take a lot of strikes to get through one of those magical shields with plain steel,” Grundel explained.

“I want you to lead this attack
, then. I don’t care what time you do it, but I want it done today. I want the Black Dragons’ guild house cleared. When you are finished I want the building destroyed. Those are my only orders. The rest is up to you. Master Brennin will inform Captain Douglas that he is to provide you with whatever you need. Take as many men as you need,” the king told him.

Grundel stood there for a minute. “I will take care of it
, Your Highness. I am truly sorry for your loss.”

He looked up at Grundel. “This was not your fault
, nephew. The queen’s actions decided her fate. You were just the one she acted against. Go clean up our city. I am fine; I just need some time.”

Grundel didn’t respond; the king was already staring at the ground again. He turned and walked out of the room. Master Brennin was waiting in the next room for him.

“Should I send for Captain Douglas, Your Highness?”

“Yes
, Master Brennin, send him to my apartment. You can go get him now. I can find my way back. I will be waiting for him and with the others,” Grundel said.

Half an hour later Grundel was standing in his room with Captain Douglas, Jerrie, Rundo, Dobo, Gobo, and Master Brennin. Master Brennin had brought him a map of the city and showed him where the Black Dragons
’ guild house was. It was a big two-story building eight blocks from the palace. .

“Captain
, your men will be in charge of setting up security around the building. No one is to get in or out. We won’t be able to get all of the wizards—they will stay and fight initially, but once they start dying, some of them will run. They can travel with magic, which means they will disappear and reappear somewhere else, and your men will never see them. When we go into the building, Jerrie, Rundo, Dobo, Gobo, and I will go in first and gain a foothold. Once that happens we will have your men come in. We will break up into groups, with ten soldiers in each group. Captain Douglas, you will be with me; Jerrie and Rundo will be the second group; and Dobo and Gobo will be the last group. Make sure your men know to stay behind us. We have protection against the wizards. They way we will fight is simple. When we find wizards we will fight them, and your men will be responsible for fighting the assassins. Any questions?”

No one said anything.

“Okay, Captain Douglas, get your men ready. We will meet you at the palace gate in one hour,” Grundel said.

When the captain was gone
, Grundel approached Master Brennin. His mother had told him a number of times to ask his advice whenever possible.

“What do you think
?” he asked.

“Trying to put aside the fact that you are attacking the Black Dragons
, I think your plan is good. You are a strong leader. You are confident and people want to follow you,” Brennin said.

“Thanks
, Master Brennin. I would like you to stay here with my mother,” he told the man. He didn’t think the old man would be able to protect her at all, but he felt he might be able to comfort her while he went out to attack one of the guild houses of the most feared group of people in all of the five cities.

“Of course
, Your Highness,” Brennin responded.

An hour later Grundel was leading a hundred men down the streets of Patria. People called out to him from everywhere. His mother was right
; they had learned who he was quickly. He had thought his dwarven heritage might make them not accept him, but it didn’t seem to bother them. He was Anna Patria’s son, and that is all that mattered to them.

Grundel stopped in front of the large two-story building.
It was made of stone like the rest of the city, but the stones were all black. The building stood out, and he could see why there were no buildings next to it. The building itself seemed to make the whole area around it feel wrong somehow. Soldiers were spreading out around the building. Archers were taking their places, aiming at the windows of the second story. Grundel looked to Captain Douglas, who nodded.

Grundel looked back at the building and threw his axe. It flew end over end
, bursting through the wooden door, and he charged after it with his other axe in hand, his friends following behind him.

He burst
through the door and a ball of fire flew toward him. It had barely been sucked into his belt buckle when a dagger flew over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if the look of shock on the wizard’s face was because his attack had been thwarted, because Rundo’s dagger had broken through his shield, or both. He might not even have had a shield up yet, but Grundel doubted that. Wizards were terribly paranoid.