“Your father was a great hero,” said the king to Greta. “I did not know he left behind a child, else I would have taken care to see that your needs were met. I am sorry to learn this so late.”
“I have done fine by myself,” Greta replied calmly. “And I seek no bounty on the name of my father. I tell you truly: he was no hero-he was a traitor who schemed to fix our people’s hatred against the goblins.”
“Liar!” shouted Nayfal, growing pale. He drew his dagger and lunged forward with shocking speed. “I will silence your slanderous tongue.”
Konnor reacted faster than Darann-or their guards-could see, stepping forward and knocking the lord’s weapon hand to the side. Nayfal twisted away and raised the weapon for another strike when the king’s words held him.
“Let her speak, my lord. And know that such impetuous displays do you no favors!”
Darann saw that Greta was shaking, and she stepped forward to put an arm around the younger dwarfmaid. “Show him the coin.”
Still trembling, Greta drew the leather bag from her belt pouch and tugged at the drawstring, finally opening it. She stepped forward, Darann at her side and Konnor behind, while alert Royal Guards closed in from either side.
“It is a forgery, sire! An attempt to smear my name!” cried the nobleman, hurrying forward as well. Apparently sensing that the king was not listening, he lapsed into worried silence, his fingers caressing the hilt of his dagger.
“Your majesty, this was given to my father as payment for his part of the scheme. He was to discover the goblins in your palace. They were exactly where Lord Nayfal told him they would be, since the lord had paid them to be there. My father arrested them, but when Lord Nayfal came to claim the prisoners, a scuffle ensued. Cubic Mandrill and the goblins were killed. The lord was credited with saving our king, and my father was labeled a hero for uncovering a plot, when in fact he was paid for his presence at that exact time and place.”
King Lightbringer took the golden disk and studied it for a long time. Lord Nayfal started to stammer something, but the monarch gestured him to silence. Finally, he raised his eyes, his gaze falling directly onto Nayfal.
“Why?” The word was short, as abrupt as the fall of an executioner’s axe. “Why would you betray me, betray us all, thus? Do you know the evil that has been wrought in the last forty years, because I trusted you?”
Nayfal shook his head frantically. “That’s just it, Your Majesty. There is no good reason for me to go to such lengths!” He stared pleadingly at the king, but for a second his eyes shifted to Darann-and in that second, she understood.
“He did it because he lied about the battle at Arkan Pass-and that means Karkald is alive. He must be in Nayve!” she declared suddenly. “The marshal must realize this; that’s why he has turned the whole of your attention inward, sire! It is always the goblins that must be controlled, or defenses prepared against the Delvers massing just beyond the range of our light beacons! Who has fought your efforts to commission the Worldlift more urgently than Nayfal? It is because his secret will be revealed if ever we open up travel between our world and Nayve!”
“More lies!” shrieked Nayfal.
Once again the dagger was in his hand. In a bestial fury, he charged at Darann. This time Konnor met the blow with his own sword drawn-a quick slash that cut the lord’s wrist to the bone. Nayfal screamed and stumbled back, and the infuriated Rockrider closed, knocking him to the ground with a punch. Shaking with rage, Konnor stood over the fallen lord and pressed the tip of his blade through the tangle of the noble dwarf’s beard.
“Tell the truth!” he snarled. “Or by all the Seven Circles, I’ll cut your heart out. What happened to Karkald?”
Nayfal started to blubber a denial, then screamed and gurgled as the sword sliced the skin of his throat. “No-I will tell!” he shrieked.
Konnor eased the pressure of his weapon enough to allow the dwarf to draw a gasping breath. Blubbering, Nayfal squirmed, finally speaking when the sword pressed down again. “Magic-he was taken by blue magic after Arkan Pass… the Delvers, too… all of them raised up… the blue magic came and surrounded them-and they were gone!”
“To Nayve!” Darann repeated with certainty, her hopes rising to heights they had not attained for decades. “That’s where they were taken!”
“Yes-at least, it stands to reason. The barrier itself is blue magic,” Borand declared. “It comes from the same source.”
“Your Majesty!” Nayfal croaked. “Do not be misguided-the goblins-”
“The goblins have suffered and died to bring you this information, sire,” Darann interrupted. “Make no mistake; hundreds of them have perished in the last few hours, and more are being killed every minute-in Your Majesty’s name!”
“But they killed a dwarfmaid-poured hot oil over her!” the king protested. “A brutal murder!”
“Brutal indeed, but who committed that murder, sire?” Darann retorted. “Did you see the goblins do this-or did Nayfal tell you that’s what happened?”
“Of course I didn’t see,” the king snapped. “But I had the report-from…” His glowering gaze fell upon the hapless lord, who had risen to his feet. “Another lie, my lord, isn’t it?” Lightbringer drew a deep sigh. “A lie that has resulted in more innocent bloodshed.”
He glowered, sitting straight in his throne, seeming to grow as they looked at him. “You, more than anyone else, has crusaded against the malignance of treason. Yet now it seems that you are treason’s most able practitioner. To this end you have caused to be murdered an innocent dwarfmaid, a palace guard-if he was corrupt, he was corrupted by your hand-and countless goblins. You have much blood on your hands. There can be only one sentence for such treachery.”
“No!” the lord screamed. He broke away, starting toward the back doors to the great hall.
“Stop him!” the king snapped, as some of his guards drew their swords and the archers, near the door, raised their crossbows. “Immediately!”
It was over in another instant, the twang of a crossbow spring shockingly loud in the lofty chamber. The echoes lingered even after Nayfal, shot through, fell to the floor and lay still.
18
Roads to High Circles
When the wyrm made his High Flight
All the cosmos held its breath
The elves of Barantha reached the Ringhills first, but it was the trolls, arriving at that natural barrier a full day later, who made the real difference in preparing the defenses. Jubal spoke to Awfulbark even as the lanky forest dwellers were spreading wearily along the outer slope of the hills, and that worthy king responded with an energy that the Virginian found deeply gratifying.
“We can dig a ditch and pile up a dirt wall, sure,” Awfulbark declared. “Where you want?”
“Up the slope a short distance,” the man explained. “So that the ghost warriors have to start climbing the hill before they get to the ditch. But close enough to the bottom that archers on the wall will be able to shoot arrows into the enemy troops as they gather at the foot of the hill.”
He showed the trolls where to collect picks and shovels, the tools that continued to arrive by the wagonload from King Fedlater’s miners on Dernwood Downs. Immediately Awfulbark’s warriors set out along the line and wasted no time in displaying their great capacity for dirt moving. Natac had selected the forward slope of the first ridge for the position, some hundred feet above the tabletop expanse of dry plains extending Nullward from this
