“I did what I could,” the whisper came back. “This is a military matter. It’s out of my hands.”
“There’s still a way,” Torrin said. “If Baelar leads the squad, I’m certain I can convince him to take me.”
“Go on.”
Torrin spoke quickly. When he was finished and turned back to the group, he saw that the Lord Scepter’s eyes were gleaming.
“I have one further recommendation for the squad,” the Lord Scepter announced. “Captain Thunsonn.”
“With all respect, Lord Scepter, he’s still healing,” the High Commander noted. “Barely able to hold an axe, let alone swing one.”
Baelar winced.
“That may be so,” the Lord Scepter continued. “But Captain Thunsonn has perhaps the most useful skill of all, although I doubt that any of you know of it. Many years ago, not long after his beard first sprouted, he lived for nearly a year in the duergar city of Gracklstugh. He was a weapons trader, dealing in duergar steel, and knows a thing or two about the gray dwarves.”
There was a heartbeat of stunned silence. Even Commander Steeleye visibly stiffened.
“Is this true?” he asked, fixing his stare on Baelar. “You lived among our enemies?”
“Disgraceful,” one of the officers hissed.
Baelar paled. Fortunately, he didn’t glance in Torrin’s direction. Torrin wouldn’t have trusted himself to keep a neutral face, if he had. He felt a deep sorrow at having to put Baelar in such a position. Yet what the Lord Scepter was about to add would make everything right again for Baelar, if only the others would listen.
“Gentlemen!” the Lord Scepter said, his voice ringing out in the strained silence. “Let me finish. Captain Thunsonn lived in Gracklstugh at the Council’s order. He was a spy!”
The officers fairly tripped over themselves in their haste to make their apologies to Baelar. Several bowed in his direction.
Baelar acknowledged them by bowing himself. His face was still pale when he rose, however.
“As a result of his assignment,” the Lord Scepter continued smoothly, “Captain Thunsonn became fluent in the duergar dialect.” He turned to Baelar. “You do still speak it, don’t you, Captain?”
Baelar’s head jerked in a nod. “I do, Lord Scepter,” he said.
“I therefore recommend Captain Thunsonn be assigned command of the squad,” the Lord Scepter concluded. “As the only one of you who speaks the duergar dialect, he will be able to answer any challenges the duergar make-challenges that are certain to be directed to the group’s visible leader. I further recommend that he be given a free hand in the final selection of the squad. There may be others who also possess talents like Captain Thunsonn’s-talents they don’t openly speak of.”
Commander Steeleye was staring at his men, a slight frown on his face. As the officers voiced their approval, however, he glanced at the Lord Scepter. The two locked eyes a moment, and then Commander Steeleye returned his attention to his officers. “Very well, then,” he said. “Captain Thunsonn will command the squad.”
The Lord Scepter smiled.
“My thanks,” Torrin whispered into his brooch.
“Thank Moradin, Delver Torrin,” the whisper came back. “And serve him well. And… one other thing. When this meeting is over, come see me in my chambers. There’s something I want you to have.”
Chapter Fourteen
“The man who treasures his friends is usually solid gold himself.”
As the meeting broke up and the selected officers departed the High Commander’s office to make their preparations, Torrin made his way to the Lord Scepter’s chambers. He was stopped several times by Steel Shields and questioned, but as soon as he identified himself they nodded him past. He reached the Lord Scepter’s chambers at last, and knocked on the door.
“Enter,” came the reply.
Torrin pushed open the door. He was surprised to see a human in the room-a wizard, by the look of his wand and his robes. Like Torrin, the fellow wore his beard braided in the dwarven fashion. Rings decorated every one of his rather pudgy fingers. Standing next to a table, he passed his wand over what looked like a lump of red clay and whispered to himself. When he shifted position slightly, Torrin saw the runestone lying next to the lump of clay.
Torrin’s mouth fell open. “What is he-”
Lord Scepter Bladebeard raised a hand, commanding silence. Torrin bit back the rest of what he’d been about to say. The wizard completed his spell, and the lump of clay assumed a flat, oval shape and an entirely different color. It appeared to have been transformed into bloodstone. And not just any piece of stone, but an exact duplicate of the runestone.
The Lord Scepter smiled and touched his brooch. “It was you who gave me the idea, Delver Ironstar,” he said. Then he turned back to the wizard, who was tucking his wand into his belt. The Lord Scepter handed the fellow a heavy looking coin pouch, but paused for a moment before releasing it.
“Not a word of this to anyone,” the Lord Scepter told him. “Not even members of the Council.”
“Of course,” the wizard answered. “My discretion is assured, as always.” As he left the chambers, he slid a sideways glance at Torrin.
Torrin waited in dry-mouthed silence as the door closed. He could understand why a human wizard had been called to the Lord Scepter’s chambers. For one thing, dwarf wizards were few and far between. More importantly, they were more likely than a human was to tip the ore cart, and let tumble what had just been done.
The Lord Scepter picked up the real runestone. “I want you to take this,” he said.
“You honor me by entrusting it to me, Lord Scepter,” Torrin replied as he bowed.
The Lord Scepter passed the runestone to Torrin. “What better place to keep it, than in a Delver’s pack?” he said. He gestured at the strongbox in a corner of his chambers, next to an opulent marble table. “Even a magically sealed strongbox is susceptible to thieves,” he said. “If those thieves are looking in the wrong place, there’s even less chance they’ll find what they’re after.”
“What thieves?” Torrin asked, suddenly worried.
The Lord Scepter’s eyes turned serious. “The duergar, for one,” he said. “Who’s to say they haven’t already pulled the same trick we’re about to-that they haven’t already sent spies to Eartheart, disguised as true dwarves. It would be easy enough to do.”
Torrin raised a fist to his chest. “I’ll keep the runestone safe, Lord Scepter. By Moradin’s beard, I swear it.”
“That you will, Delver Torrin. I’m certain of it,” the Lord Scepter said, staring up at Torrin. “One thing more. The brooch I gave you-I want you to keep it, as well. You will be my ears, in Drik Hargunen.”
Torrin nodded, although the words made him thoughtful. Surely High Commander Steeleye would keep the Lord Scepter appraised of the squad’s progress. There was something more afoot here.
“Is there anything in particular you hope to hear?” he asked.
The Lord Scepter spread his hands. “Just keep close to the squad,” he said. “If anyone starts behaving… strangely, I want to know about it.”
A nasty thought occurred to Torrin. “Do you think the duergar might try to infiltrate the squad?” he asked. “In disguise?”
“That’s certainly something to watch for,” the Lord Scepter answered. “But there’s more to it than that. If anyone’s loyalties seem to be shifting, let me know at once.”
Torrin nodded. There was clearly someone on the squad that the Lord Scepter didn’t trust. But whom? Torrin knew better than to ask. The Lord Scepter would have told him the name already, if he’d had any intention to reveal it.
