Cronica Acadia Page 17

  “What?” said Dangalf frantically. “What? What did he say?” Even Ashlyn covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. “What are you laughing at?” Dangalf demanded.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s just infectious.”

  Dangalf shook Nerdraaage to get his attention. “What? What did he say?”

  “Oh,” said Nerdraaage wiping a tear from his eye. “He said, ‘What is the point of conversation with one who will not agree that beer is wet?’”

  Angus said, “Know this, human: Earc is dead, and he was killed by troll hand as sure if he died by dagger.”

  “We’ll strike back at the Legion soon enough,” said Donald. “And the humans will be right by our side. They’re as ready as we are.”

  “And why wouldn’t the humans be ready for war?” slurred Angus. “Removed they were from the worst of the conflict. They lost none of their lands. And they have more men scurrying about now than before the Great War.”

  “Theirs was one of the Three Pillars to the Legion’s defeat,” said Donald. “Ozymandias sunk the Trollish Armada. We would be overrun otherwise.”

  “Bah,” sputtered Angus. “If this Ozymandias was so powerful, why does he no longer show himself? He’s another human fraud!”

  “He’s not a fraud,” said Dangalf. Angus turned on him angrily before waving dismissively to him with his one arm and storming out.

  Dangalf had sensed a discontent about the reclusive Ozymandias whenever his name came up. He had sunk the Trollish Armada and saved Vinland and by extension the Acadian Alliance. But why had he vanished and where had he gone? If his powers were so great, why did he not take the battle to the heart of the Legion and smite their armies?

  Dangalf was measured in his defense of Ozymandias because he had no personal knowledge of the great elementalist. But Weyd believed in Ozymandias, and Dangalf believed in Weyd.

  Supreme Allied Commander Dukenfield further burdened the ancient wizard by promoting him to archmage, a title that didn’t exist before it was bestowed on Ozymandias. He alone was promoted to a master class above all others of any school. And the other classes and schools soon established their own master classes in response. The Red School christened their best warriors, who were just learning to ride dragons brought back from Oceania, dragoons, after the Dwarvish word for dragon. The deadliest blackguards became assassins. The White School christened their best druids as fenix, and other archmages were also promoted.

  On the subject of Ozymandias, the Legion propagandists remained silent, which was unusual if you knew anything about Legion propagandists. It was likely that they were unsure of his powers themselves and decided not to provoke him, reasoning that it was better to have a fraud in a tower than an archmage on the battlefield.

  “You’ll have to forgive Angus,” said Donald. “Sometimes he sips the beer of madness. Sometimes he chugs it. He blames a human for the loss of his arm. It was a human captain—a strong, brave warrior, a shining example of humanity—who through sheer force of will raised a raiding party of human and dwarves with the express purpose of killing the hated Necromancer Princess Gykoja. Angus was in this party. Bravely they did fight all the way to Gykoja’s tower, losing many men, when the human captain came within striking distance of the depleted witch. To hear Angus tell it, instead of killing Gykoja, the young captain knelt before her and allowed himself to be killed by her. She in turn raised him as a lich and turned him against his own men. Angus was among a handful of the party who were able to escape and return. But he paid with his own arm. Angus swears that the human captain purposely sacrificed himself to the witch, but it is beyond belief that anyone would willingly become a lich. But Angus believes it, and sometimes he is not always fair to humans. And the loss of his arm may well have brought about the early stages of the wilding.”

  Dangalf knew of that condition from his studies. Aged and infirmed dwarves were often taken by the wilding. It was an ever-increasing belligerence and recklessness that helped insure that no dwarf lived beyond a respectable age. The dwarves had developed a culture in which their own immortality was viewed as unseemly. It was not believed that any dwarf could live a thousand years without finding an honorable time to die. Dangalf was reminded of something Weyd said as he discussed the life-extending benefits of slumber: “Immortality sounds like a good idea until it happens to you.”

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” said Donald rising. “I am due at Earc’s wake.”

  “At this hour?” asked Dangalf.

  “Well,” said Donald. “I know humans like to send their honored dead out to sea, but we like our dead in the ground.”

  “I would like to go,” said Dangalf.

  “Good,” said Donald. “The more the merrier. Three days we have at Earc’s grave to make sure no witch sets his undead corpse upon us. And we don’t want that, do we?”

  “No,” said Dangalf, sobering up quickly. He glanced at Ashlyn, who also seemed unnerved by the prospect.

  “Are you going to finish that?” Nerdraaage asked Dangalf of the roast pork on his plate.

  XLIII

  Dangalf sat at Earc’s gravesite with Donald. During the day, he was able to slumber a bit, but at night he remained cold and terrified by every unusual sound and dark movement. But nothing terrified him more than when Donald became alarmed and would reach for his weapon before eventually relaxing again.

  Doppelganger, Ashlyn, Nerdraaage, and others came by, but only Dangalf and Donald were there for three days straight. Donald did it out of tradition for his fallen subordinate. Dangalf did it out of a sense of duty. Earc was dead because of him, and Dangalf felt an obligation to make sure Earc stayed dead. He felt this not so much because he feared zombie Earc would target him in particular, though that was a concern, but more because he wanted the fallen hero to rest in peace.

  XLIV

  Nerdraaage was nearing the completion of his training, and everyone was excited. Doppelganger and Dangalf continued to go out on patrols and other special assignments of varying interest for their per diem. At night they ate, drank, smoked, and played goat, a particularly dwarven card game with only one loser. It could get very expensive to be the goat, and it was a great irritation to Nerdraaage that, of the Keepers, Ashlyn was the best player of his race’s game.

  Doppelganger was walking past the front gate when he stopped at a commotion of dwarves. He watched as a dwarven patrol led a she-elf into the front gate. She was beautiful and glowing—literally glowing as if a beam of sun shined just upon her. But she also looked troubled and kept her gaze down. Donald was the first to make his way down to the delicate she-elf and, shockingly, bowed to her. She curtsied delicately in answer. She was stunning and also very sad. She brought up her head only once to make eye contact with Doppelganger as she passed him. Doppelganger’s heart melted, and he feared that he must have looked very stupid as his mouth hung open in awe. He closed it, but it was too late. She had passed. The reeve of Hammersmith, who had not deigned to meet the Keepers, rushed out of his home to meet her, and they went inside. Of the crowd that surrounded her, only Donald was also permitted in. Doppelganger had to sit on the ground right where he had stood and relive the moment of her passing.

  Doppelganger returned to the inn and began drinking more heavily than usual. He wanted to forget the she-elf who had left him breathless. No good could come from dwelling on her, but he knew dwell on her he would. Dangalf and Ashlyn joined him shortly, and he did not speak of the she-elf even though they could tell he was preoccupied.

  Angus also joined them, and then Donald joined them. A crowd followed the captain and spread around the table as everyone was curious about their unexpected guest. Donald did not disappoint.

  An elven princess had been ambushed by a troll assassin, he related. Her Templar bodyguard, outmatched by the blackguard, cast on the princess a shield of protection. It was a spell so powerful that it would protect her from all harm for three days and so powerful that it consumed the life of her Templar
in the process. The troll tried all his assassin’s tricks on her, but he could not harm her or even touch her, even when he spat at her in rage. Finally, he slew the royal unicorns and unappeared. Ashlyn gasped. She did not know why she knew it to be the gravest of crimes to kill a unicorn.

  Donald told them that the princess then traveled by foot to the nearest allied town, Hammersmith, still protected by the Templar’s spell. “That’s why she was glowing!” Doppelganger said excitedly. “I saw her,” he explained more quietly.

  Nerdraaage joined them with a look of great self-satisfaction. “So you’ve all heard?” he said to the gathering.

  “Heard what?” asked Dangalf.

  “You are now looking at the Alliance’s newest mercenary,” he announced. There were congratulations all around, and a kilderkin of beer was placed heavily on the table. Like the third-class warrior, the third-class blackguard was called a mercenary.

  Nerdraaage spread out his commission scroll on the table. He noticed with embarrassment that the commission was for Nerdraaage of Clan Stonefist even though he was not a member.

  “I uh, well, I uh, uh,” Nerdraaage explained to Angus.

  “We have to make that document official,” responded Angus. “We’ll have the joining ceremony tomorrow!” And there were more cheers and congratulations.

  “So you can unappear?” asked Dangalf after congratulations were done.

  “Of course,” answered Nerdraaage.

  “This I’ve got to see,” said Ashlyn.

  “Oh all right,” said Nerdraaage.

  Nerdraaage stood perfectly still like a model in the dwarven version of the JCPenney catalog.

  Ashlyn was the first one to burst out laughing. Nerdraaage remained perfectly motionless and completely visible. Finally, even Doppelganger and Dangalf could not contain themselves and laughed. “This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Doppelganger.

  “Dude,” laughed Dangalf. “We can still see you.”

  “Give the lad a chance,” interjected Angus.

  Still Nerdraaage did not move and remained completely visible. Suddenly he faded ever so slightly, and the crowd let out a spontaneous “Oooh!” He faded a little more until he was translucent. He broke his pose and returned to full opaqueness.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” he asked excitedly.

  “We could still see you,” said Ashlyn.

  “Here, in a bright inn,” said Nerdraaage. “But at night or in the woods, you won’t see me.”

  “But aren’t you supposed to be able to unappear completely even in a bright room?” asked Dangalf.

  “Look,” said Nerdraaage. “The important thing is I am commissioned now. I’m going to get better with practice.”

  “When it is required, he will unappear completely,” said Icil as he suddenly became fully appeared behind Ashlyn. She jerked when he put his gloved hands on her bare shoulders. “Or I would not have sponsored him.” The entire inn was momentarily stunned by the sudden appearance of the black-clad human assassin. Even his face was masked.

  “How are you tonight, my lovely she-elf,” Icil asked as he leaned over her shoulder.

  “Fine,” she managed. She grabbed Dangalf’s hand for support.

  Angus stood on the bench with his fist on his hip reproachfully. “All this time just outside our gate and only now you enter our inn,” announced Angus. “Do you find the company of dwarves distasteful?” The rest of the inn watched anxiously.

  “What makes you think I have not before entered your inn?” asked the assassin.

  “Let me rephrase that for one who sneaks about unseen,” said Angus. “Why have you waited so long to show your face in our inn?”

  Icil slowly removed his leather headgear, exposing his scarred face and deformed ears. “Mine is not a face that begs to be shown.”

  Angus thought for a moment and burst out laughing. The crowd exhaled and laughed with him. “And they won’t soon be stamping any coins with my face either!” shouted Angus. “Will you drink beer with us, blackguard master, or do I need to buy you wine?”

  “I will drink the finest drink in the land,” said Icil. “Dwarven beer.” The crowd cheered at the black-clad human.

  “Then sit, my friend, and drink with us,” said Angus. And Angus and Donald and the other dwarves pounded their fists respectfully on Icil’s chest as they introduced themselves or were introduced.

  Ashlyn turned quickly to Dangalf. “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered. “He really scares me.”

  “He really scares you?” quoted Dangalf. “Is that code for he turns you on?”

  “No. It’s code for he really scares me.”

  “I will get a chair,” said Icil.

  “There’s plenty of room,” insisted Nerdraaage. He slid over to leave a spot on the bench between himself and Ashlyn. She glared at him, but he didn’t understand.

  “Put your arm around me,” she whispered to Dangalf.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to piss him off.” She grabbed Dangalf’s arm and put it around her shoulder as Icil sat next to her. Dangalf did a terrible job of looking nonchalant.

  Various dwarves took to the Odeon stage and played music and sang. Angus went from table to table and even left the inn periodically while he made arrangements for the joining ceremony.

  Doppelganger asked if Icil had heard about the attack on the princess. Icil had more than heard about it. He had just returned from the scene of the attack, and only footprints remained.

  “I thought assassins didn’t leave footprints,” said Doppelganger.

  “They leave footprints only for other assassins.”

  “Do you know his work?” asked Donald.

  “It was not a he,” said Icil.

  “A female assassin?”

  “Assassins.”

  “Two!”

  “Two she-trolls,” said Icil. “That is why the princess’s Templar did not stand a chance. Two sisters that strike as one. Some believe that they are twins, so connected are they. They kill in such perfect unison that they are able to step in each other’s footprints so as to leave only one almost imperceptible set of tracks. Only a handful of rangers could have spotted the deception. It was only luck that I spotted it myself. One blade of grass folded on top of the first sister’s print by the second sister.”

  “You know them?”

  “They are deadly adversaries, but they do not serve the Legion directly. They are in private service.”

  “Whose service are they in?”

  “The Necromancer Princess Gykoja.”

  “Gykoja!” said Angus, slamming his one remaining fist on the table.

  “I am aware that you have suffered a loss due to this witch. I as well. There are many families scarred by her evil. I came here to make plans to take her head and those of her minions. But now that they are unicorn killers, these she-trolls have turned an hourglass on their own lives.”

  “They tried to kill a princess,” said Doppelganger. “You’re saying that the greater crime was killing her unicorn?”

  “There is no shortage of she-elf princesses,” said Icil. “But once killed no unicorn is ever replaced. The mystery is why such a talented pair would target such a lowly elven princess.”

  “Maybe they were after the unicorn,” said Ashlyn.

  “They did steal its horn and its blood,” said Icil. “But they also could have killed a wild unicorn for those. If I were to question the princess, I would ask her why she was so far from home.” He looked to Donald.

  “Dwarven law holds that no foreign king is above even the most common dwarf,” said Donald. “But in practice there is great respect for elven royal blood.”

  “But you’re of the king’s blood yourself!” insisted Angus.

  “Aye, but I am no prince. It is not my place to question a bona fide princess.”

  “Too bad that princess didn’t have you with her instead of a Templar!” said Nerdraaage.

  “No,” said Icil. “I could have
killed them both, I believe, but not before they killed the princess. That is why the royals use only Templars for bodyguards. Her Templar saved her life where no other could. Let us drink to this unnamed hero!” And they all raised their cups in salute.

  “And to Earc,” announced Dangalf, and all raised their cups again.

  Icil finished his cup, wiped the foam from his face, and turned back to Ashlyn. “I think you will make an excellent druid,” said Icil. “I can just imagine you with a big, fluffy tail.”

  “What about Nerdraaage’s training?” she said, changing the subject. “Doesn’t he need to know unappear better?”

  “Some can unappear easily and completely at the mercenary level,” said Icil. “They may have better stealth skills than Nerdraaage, but he has better blade skills than most. He will unappear when he has to.”

  Nerdraaage punctuated Icil’s remarks by punching his dagger into the table. “Blade skills for the win!” he shouted.

  “I would obliterate that dwarven rune from the pommel,” said Icil.

  “And why is that?” challenged Angus.

  “It is additional information for the enemy should he drop his blade.”

  “And why would he drop it?”

  “Because sometimes there is a lot of killing to do,” said Icil. “And blood is slippery. And even the strongest hand can leave a blade behind. But I suppose it doesn’t really matter. In time, when he has proved himself, the trolls will open a book on him.”

  “A book?” asked Nerdraaage.

  “Just as our sages open books on our infamous enemies, so the trolls will open one on you. And then all their Legion will vie to be the one to close that book.” No one needed it explained what was meant by having your book closed. “And when your trail of dead is grand enough, then they will even put a bounty on your head.”

  “Do you have a bounty on your head?” asked Nerdraaage.

  “We have heard there is a one-thousand-sovereign bounty on your head,” said Donald.