“The Chamber of the Council,” Kira announced matter-of-factly as they entered the enormous building and made their way to a large circular room. In the centre of the room stood a raised, semi-circular dais with four thrones. Behind each of the thrones hung a massive banner, each bearing the colours and sigils of one of the four kingdoms of the Dwarven Freehold.
Six evenly spaced alcoves were set into the wall behind the dais, in a matching semi-circle. In each of the alcoves stood a statue. Each one was at least ten feet tall by Calen’s measure. He recognised them all immediately. Statues of the gods.
Their placing was interesting. In all depictions of the gods that Calen knew, Varyn and Heraya, the Mother and the Father, always stood beside each other. But here, it was Heraya and Hafaesir, the Smith, who stood side by side, set into the alcoves directly behind the dais. Achyron and Elyara, the Warrior and the Maiden, stood on either side of them. Varyn and Neron, the Sailor, were set into alcoves at the end.
Calen couldn’t help but think that the room was designed in such a way as to intimidate whoever had been granted an audience with the council. As much as he tried to fight it, it was working. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in over his head. Over the past few days, the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but think that he was nothing more than a bargaining chip to be passed back and forth between powerful rulers.
That’s all he seemed to be to everyone. Arthur, despite his outward friendliness, only wanted him to help convince the dwarves to come to Belduar’s aid if the empire attacked. Despite what Therin had said, the elves were only using him to grow their honour. Aeson had manipulated him from the start, steering him to Belduar at every turn. Calen did not know what the dwarves wanted from him, but he was sure they wanted something. Only Dann, Erik, and Rist had not asked anything of him. He had allowed one of them to be taken, and the other two he left in Belduar.
“Now,” Elenya said, her fiery hair rippling in the odd light from the lanterns that hung in the chamber. “First, Arthur, King of Belduar. You have come here to ask something of us. Please, what is it you require?”
Arthur stepped forward from the group, his bravado never faltering. Somehow, even as he stood below the raised dais, the four dwarven rulers looking down over him, he seemed in control. “As you all know, the Lorian Empire has set a blockade less than three days’ march from Belduar. This has not happened in over fifty years, and even then, the force was a quarter the size of the current blockade. My scouts report that, in the past few weeks, their numbers have swollen with local levies from Illyanara and now count over twenty thousand strong, with many mages among their number. I believe they are planning to lay siege to the city.”
Pulroan and Hoffnar both stifled a gasp. Neither Kira nor Elenya allowed any reaction to touch their faces.
“All I ask,” Arthur continued, “is that, should my fears be true, the dwarves of the Freehold aid in the defence of Belduar.”
“All that you ask?” Kira remarked in an openly mocking tone. “You know as well as any, Arthur, that no dwarf of the Freehold has left the shelter of these mountains since the fall of The Order. Nearly four hundred years. Why do you think that is?”
“I have my ideas,” Aeson muttered.
Kira did not await Arthur’s reply. “It is so the empire would not hunt us down and torch our race from these lands, like they did to the giants.”
For the first time since they met, Calen saw anger in Asius’s eyes.
Kira caught it too. “No offence was meant, Asius, my friend. I am simply trying to be honest.”
As quickly as the anger had appeared on Asius’s face, it was gone. “None is taken, Kira.”
Kira gave a thankful nod. “If we march our armies from these mountains, we open ourselves to the empire’s eyes. I am sorry, Arthur, but Durakdur’s answer is no. Your city has survived without our soldiers until now. It will continue to do so.”
Calen saw a brief flash of anger on Arthur’s face, quickly concealed by a furtive grin. His voice raised, not by much but noticeably enough to make the other rulers sit straighter in their thrones. “The empire already knows that you are here, oh, Queen of Durakdur.”
Calen couldn’t help but wince at the mocking tone in Arthur’s voice. He did not know the queen like Arthur did, but from what he did know, she was not the kind of woman he wanted to see angry.
“They do not believe that it was the craftsmen of Belduar who constructed those Bolt Throwers or built the great walls of the city, nor do they forget the past. If Belduar falls, the kingdoms of the Dwarven Freehold will be next.” That drew some angry gasps, even from the guards around the outer rim of the chamber.
“I will remind you where you stand, King of Belduar.” Elenya’s face was fury as the tips of her fingers stroked the head of her axe. Then the fury gave way to a face of calm. “Though, I am inclined to agree. They do not forget our existence, nor do our tunnels and mountain walls protect us. We must simply look to the dwarves of Kolmir to see that is true. May Hafaesir guide them.”
“May Hafaesir guide them,” the other dwarves chorused.
“Well, what is it you suggest, Elenya? Please, do tell.” Kira’s taut voice suggested that she and the queen of Ozryn did not see eye-to-eye.
Elenya sat forward in her seat. “Let the Draleid speak.”
Calen
