Markus Heitz - The Fate of the Dwarves

Groaning and losing his balance, the man tipped forward and spread his length on the table. The remaining tankards scattered, crashing to the floor, beer foaming in all directions…

Coira drove her sword at the orc nearest her. He parried at the last moment as the blade came close to his throat. Grunting, he pushed the sword away, launching a thrust of his own.

The young woman held her sword against his, but the strength behind his thrust nearly forced her to open her fingers. Her hand and forearm went numb. She would have to try a different sort of defense, even though she had wanted to avoid this.

She let off a lethal spell. Crackling red lightning bolts sizzled out of her eyes to hit the orc in the face. His skin boiled and blistered, his eyes melted and vaporized to tiny spots the size of a pea, and he plunged screaming to the ground.

The orc who had felled Rodario threw his knife at the maga. She used her skills to hold the whirling blade suspended in the air. A thought and a short formula were all it took, and the metal glowed red hot.

Coira sent the glowing ball back to the thrower, who was unable to duck out of its way; it tracked his movements! The molten steel slapped against his neck and burrowed its way through the skin. The orc tried to wipe it away in his panic, burning his fingers to the bone. Intense pain made him pass out and fall to the floor.

Loud commands rang out and boots came clomping down the stairs.

Coira ran to the table and grabbed the befuddled actor by the collar, pulling him upright. “Come on, you sorriest of all the sorry ones,” she shouted, slapping his face to bring him round.

Rodario rolled his eyes and grinned at her vaguely. “Well done there, Princess.”

“Yeah, can’t say the same for you!” she ran to the door. “Out of here!” she ordered. “Or do you want to stay and fight the greenskins in further glorious battles?”

“But I don’t know which way to go,” he whimpered, holding a dagger in each hand. Two orcs came bounding down the stairs and stopped on the threshold.

Coira sighed. She had suspected this would happen. “Come with me then. I’ll keep you safe, even though it should really be the other way round. You’re the man, after all.”

“I know,” he called glumly, making for the door. “The hero is supposed to rescue the princess, not vice versa.”

“Right! Remember that for next time,” she replied, running through the narrow lanes back to the place in the wall where she could slip through and where Loytan was waiting for her. With two horses. One had been intended for The Incomparable, but now Coira found herself shepherding The Incomparable’s pale imitation through Mifurdania. “This is simply not fair, gods,” she murmured, turning her head to look at the actor.

He kept stumbling over his robe, then dropped his dagger and got down on hands and knees to look for it among the rubbish. Coira had to pull him along.

They ran along in the shadow of the city walls without being pursued. The orcs were expecting her to be heading for the gates.

All of a sudden a form appeared out of one of the alleyways, holding a lantern in his left hand and obviously waiting for them.

Coira recognized The Incomparable!

She ran up. He had a bloodied graze on his face and his right eye was swollen shut-evidence of orc and Lohasbrander attention. He held out his hand, first to the breathless man, then to the young woman. “I wanted to thank you both for what you were trying to do for me,” he said quickly. “I shan’t forget it.”

“Come with us,” responded Coira, hoping he could not hear how loud her heart was beating. He had not let go of her hand. “We’ve got horses for you…”

The Incomparable shook his head. “I can’t leave Mifurdania. There are so many people to whom my words may yet give hope. Now more than ever.” He made as if to kiss her hand. “And I’ve still got to win my title.” He nodded to Rodario and it seemed to Coira that they were exchanging silent messages. “Take my friend with you. He’s in more danger than I am. There’s nobody in the town that would give him shelter and his face is very well known.”

Rodario the Seventh gave an unhappy smile and played with the seam of his left sleeve.

Another wave of disappointment swamped Coira, but she promised, “I will,” conscious of her desire never to let The Incomparable go. Instead she must drag this idiot along with her while her dazzling champion stayed behind doing heroic deeds. Without her. So unfair, gods!

She bent forward and breathed a kiss onto The Incomparable’s cheek, then went off, taking Rodario with her.

“What a man!” said the actor delightedly. “What wouldn’t I give to be like him?”

“And what wouldn’t I give if you were?” she added quietly, blushing. She was ashamed of herself for the mean remark, but Rodario didn’t appear to have heard.

They reached the secret door in the town wall, an ancient one from the days of the old Mifurdania, whence spies could have been dispatched during a siege to find out the enemy’s plans. Few people knew of its existence but Coira had been shown it by Loytan. The Lohasbranders did not know about it. And who would want to show it to them?

Coira looked for the mechanism, while Rodario kept a lookout for any orcs.

“Oy! You down there!” The shout from above caught her by surprise and then an armored night-watchman leaned over the parapet to get a better look. “What are you up to?” He ran along till he came to the next set of steps, coming down with his pike raised, pointing down toward them, ready to stab.

Coira took a step back and lifted her left arm to hold off the man with one of her sleep spells, but she had used up all her store of magic. A slight tingle and fluttering flames appeared on the ends of her fingers, but not enough to be effective. Harmless. A waste of effort.

The night-watchman cursed and put his bugle to his lips.

Then Rodario acted with, for him, great presence of mind. He hurled his second dagger upwards with great strength-but had omitted to take it out of its sheath first!

With a dull thud it collided with the warder’s forehead. He gave a groan and disappeared behind the parapet; then they heard his body fall.

“I’ve lost my last knife!” complained Rodario. “Damn. It was expensive! It was made of…”

“Quiet!” Coira pressed the opening mechanism and part of the wall could now be rolled to one side. “I’ll buy you another one, but now, shift!” She hustled him out. “Even a blind chicken can find a grain of corn, they say.”

“But I’m… not a chicken!” Rodario started to stammer.

Loytan was waiting on the other side and looked baffled when he recognized the actor. “You know you’ve got the wrong one, don’t you, Princess?” he said to her accusingly, feeling duty-bound to point out her mistake.

Coira sighed and swung herself up into the saddle. “Spare me,” she hissed, watching how the actor managed to catch his foot in his robe while trying to get it into the stirrup. The horses moved quickly on and he was still hopping along next to them. “Not a word! I’ll explain on the way,” she added, seeing Loytan opening his mouth again.

At last The Seventh was in the saddle. “Right, we can escape now. I’m ready,” he announced.

“I know who I want to escape from,” she mouthed to Loytan, letting her mount gallop off.

The two men followed. “Where are we going?” called Rodario.

“To the palace,” answered Coira, looking back at the lights she had noticed. Riders with torches were on their trail and she could hear bloodhounds baying. The Lohasbranders were not going to let her get away so easily.