Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

"But Vorden is still our leader," said Ethella, fixing her icy gaze on Timlin. "And now, if he lives, he has fallen into Dremlock's clutches and could face torment or execution. We have an obligation to free him."

"Agreed," said Timlin, though he didn't really care if Vorden ever returned to his role as Supreme Commander or not. If Vorden was alive, he could rot in Dremlock Dungeons for all Timlin cared. Timlin's mind was on one thing only-the Black Flamestone and how he might escape with the device.

The High Wizard frowned. "Of what value is this Vorden fellow without the Hand of Tharnin? He has no power."

"But he remains our leader," Ethella insisted. "We are bound by honor to acknowledge that. Would you abandon your king if he was stripped of his power and imprisoned? Surely Bellis understands the concept of honor."

Omharal nodded. "Of course. But should a former Squire of Dremlock-a mere lad-ever have been appointed your commander in the first place? Certainly not. Perhaps Vorden should be removed from his position. Can't you vote on it? I understand if you were afraid to vote on the issue before, but Vorden can no longer harm you. It will be easy to simply vote him down and forget him."

"We weren't afraid," muttered Rulain. "We fear no one."

Hoytus bowed his head, however, doubt in his eyes.

"Yes, the Legion Council was terrified of Vorden," said Timlin, with a laugh, "and rightfully so. I vote to keep Vorden as our leader. If anyone wants to vote me down, go ahead. But we don't know exactly what happened at Dorok's Hand-whether or not Vorden was really killed or captured." This was true, and Timlin saw no reason to invoke Vorden's wrath if he still lived, when all Timlin wanted was to get away from everyone and their wretched problems.

"I second Timlin's vote," said Ethella.

Rulain glanced at his brother, then said, "No reason to question Vorden's leadership until we know for sure what became of him."

"Agreed," said Hoytus, a shadow of fear in his eyes.

"Vorden will remain our absent leader," said Ulmason Deathhand. "He served the Legion well, as Timlin now does."

Omharal shrugged. "It matters not. Soon Dorok's Hand will fall to Bellis, and your leader-if he still lives-will be returned to you, for whatever that's worth. The Hand of Tharnin, however, must be destroyed if possible."

"What if Vorden still wears the gauntlet?" asked Ethella. "It is a difficult device to unlock, though I suppose Dremlock could just cut off his arm."

Timlin chuckled at her latter statement.

"Then he will be commanded to surrender it," said Omharal. "The device is unacceptable. King Verlamer has ordered it destroyed. He has also ordered that the Black Flamestone be brought to Bellis."

Timlin cringed inwardly, and his hand locked around the Flamestone in his cloak pocket so fiercely his knuckles hurt. He wanted to draw his Flayer and stab Omharal through the heart. He seriously considered it for a moment, thinking that if he struck quickly enough he could succeed. The wizard was not far away and apparently wore no armor (though his robe could possibly hide a thin breastplate). But Timlin decided to bide his time and wait for a better opportunity.

Rulain Knightslayer sneered. His dark-grey beard, which was set in three braids, quivered with rage and contempt as his hands knotted into fists. "So we're just puppets of Bellis now? We do everything we're told? The Black Flamestone should go to our Goblin Lords and nowhere else! How arrogant is Bellis to make such demands?"

"Calm yourself, my brother," said Hoytus, looking alarmed.

But Rulain kept his gaze on the High Wizard.

"Arrogant?" said Omharal, his eyes narrowing. "Bellis does not employ the services of foul Goblins, and we will not permit the Black Flamestone to be given to them. We have seers who can unlock the secrets of that gem. If you want to see Dremlock fall, you should cooperate with us fully. We are working together for mutual benefit. Bear that in mind, Dwarf."

"And once Dremlock falls," said Rulain, "will we have our independence restored to us? I highly doubt it. We will continue to function as slaves."

"Be careful, brother," Hoytus mumbled.

Rulain swatted an ale jug off the table. "Why should I be careful? I'm a member of the Legion Council! I have the right to speak my mind! For hundreds of years, the Blood Legion was independent and bowed to no one. Now, suddenly, we're just slaves to the King of Bellis?"

"Calm yourself," Timlin ordered. But excitement surged through him. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for.

But Rulain rose from his chair, his Dwarven temper boiling over. "I won't calm myself! How dare this vile wizard come into our fortress and start making demands? We would be better off siding with Dremlock than bowing to this filth!"

"Perhaps you've had too much ale, Rulain," said Ethella.

Omharal sneered. "You will bow, Dwarf, one way or another."

"Never!" Rulain shouted. "I'd rather die than-"

Suddenly, Rulain went into a coughing fit and clutched his chest. He looked startled and confused, glancing down. Then he slumped forward over the table, knocking over some mugs and a pitcher.

Omharal gazed down at him and smiled.

Hoytus gasped. "Brother, are you okay?" He shook Rulain's shoulder. Rulain didn't respond.

Timlin checked Rulain for a pulse, but found none. He ordered the fallen Dwarf taken to the healers, though he knew it was too late. "I think he's dead," said Timlin, adopting a concerned expression even though he didn't care at all. He'd never liked Rulain Knightslayer anyway.

"Perhaps his heart gave out," said Omharal. He casually took a sip of wine from a crystal goblet. "Too much temper."

Hoytus jumped up and raised his battle axe, glowering at Omharal. "Liar! You slew my brother with your foul sorcery!"

Omharal laughed, as Rulain's body was carried away by two Soldiers. "Prove it. You cannot."

Hoytus hesitated, then shouted, "You know I can never prove it! But I…I know it was you! I'll kill you for that!"

Hoytus' battle axe erupted into crimson flames, and he drove the blade down toward Omharal. But one of the Golden Knights blocked the stroke with his sword. The two Guardians rose to defend their leader.

Timlin leapt to his feet. "Enough!" He pointed at Omharal. "I want this sorcerer and his guards thrown in the dungeon for their treachery."

Ethella gazed at Timlin in shock. "We cannot oppose Bellis!"

Ulmason Deathhand rose and stood next to Timlin, towering over him and holding his huge axe poised for combat. His one eye smoldered with defiance as he gazed out from his horned helm. "Timlin has given an order-and shown guts in doing so. Anyone who defies him must deal with me!"

"In Vorden's absence," said Timlin, "I am the Supreme Commander, remember? These three are to be arrested at once. Go ahead and vote me out of power…if you dare, or do as you're told."

"I stand with you, my lord," said Ulmason. "We are not puppets of Bellis, to allow a Council member to be assassinated by poisonous sorcery right before our eyes. The Blood Legion does not yield to such treachery!"

"But what if it was his heart?" said Ethella. "It could have been a natural death. Where is our evidence of treachery?"

"We will investigate the matter," said Timlin. "Meanwhile, Omharal will be imprisoned. If found guilty, he will be executed."

"I stand with Timlin!" Rulain growled. "Omharal-you will pay dearly for your cowardly attack on my brother!"

Ethella hesitated, then said, "I stand with Timlin as well."

Legion Soldiers closed around Omharal and his two Golden Knights, locking irons onto their wrists. Their weapons were taken.

Omharal looked surprised and enraged. "So the infamous Blood Legion is actually a bunch of fools. I expected better from you. You choose to seal your fate over the death of that arrogant sod?"