Douglas Niles - Goddess Worldweaver

“I’ve known Donnwell Earnwise all my life,” Darann pointed out. “He’s about the smartest dwarf I’ve ever met. If anyone can make a Worldlift work, I think it would be him!”

Greta merely shrugged. “I don’t know why anyone would want to go to Nayve, anyway. We’ve got everything we need down here.” She was only echoing a sentiment believed by many dwarves, Darann knew, choosing not to argue the point. Even so, she recalled the warm sun, the waves on seas and lakes, the green hills and vales with suddenly poignant affection. She wished that, somehow, she would be able to see those wonders again, just once before she died.

“There he is!” Greta whispered excitedly, waving at a man-at-arms who was just coming through a door at the end of the corridor. “Larson! Hello!”

“Why, Greta!” declared the dwarf, beaming like a fellow who has just seen a woman toward whom he holds a great deal of affection. “This is a pleasure; I thought they had you on the first shift, these days. I miss our little-” For the first time he apparently noticed the two other dwarves accompanying his sweetheart. “Um, talks.”

“Me, too,” Greta said, her tone lighter than it had been at any point since their meeting at the Goat Hair Inn. She might have been a young maiden, stopping to flirt with her handsome soldier; indeed, Darann thought, that was exactly what she was.

Yet Greta showed that she was not lacking a certain capacity for guile. “This is my cousin Dari, from the Metalreach, and her husband… She’s in the city for a few cycles and has never been up here. I told her there was a chance we might be able to spot the king-you know, from the wings of the throne room. Do you know, is he in the hall?”

“You’re in luck,” Larson said, then lowered his voice and looked around furtively. “Not too happy about it, he ain’t. Was all set for bed, when he got a message that Nayfal needed to see him. Something about the troubles in the ghetto. Anyway, he’s on his way up, and the king is waiting for him.”

“Can you please be a dear and let us in the side door?” Greta asked, giving the warrior’s arm a squeeze.

“Why, I surely can,” he replied, blushing. “But you’ll have to promise to be quiet-mouse quiet! When he’s in a mood like this, it won’t do to be disturbing him.”

“Oh, you know how quiet I can be,” Greta said with a wink. “And Dari can do the same, right?”

“Mouse quiet,” Darann assured him.

“All right-come this way, then.”

The friendly guard turned around led them through the door he had just exited, taking Greta’s hand as they started up a stairway. Darann’s heart was pounding, and her stomach churned nervously as they climbed several flights and at last came to a door guarded by two Royal Guards.

“A little late work,” Larson said, nudging one of the guards, who grinned in return. Darann was certain the thumping in her chest was loud enough to raise an alarm, but somehow she managed to smile charmingly. The guard smiled back, then opened the door to allow them to pass through.

“Thanks-you’re a sweetheart,” Greta said, giving Larson a quick kiss on the cheek. He quickly pulled her close and gave her a more intimate embrace, smacking her on the buttocks as she finally broke free.

“You know where to find me,” he said, looking at her seriously. “And I meant it, Gret-I really miss you!”

“I’ll find you soon!” she promised, then pulled away. “This way,” she said to Darann and Konnor.

“Thanks, friend,” Konnor said to the guard as the trio started down another hall.

This one opened into a wide chamber, lit by numerous coolfyre chandeliers, and Darann felt her nervousness rise again. This was the throne room! Greta led them forward, and they saw that they were on a side platform that was itself the size of a large banquet hall, raised twenty or thirty feet above the truly expansive hall of the Seer dwarf king.

They moved past a pile of folded linens, then around a compartment where mops and buckets were stacked. Clearly this was some kind of housekeeping area, Darann deduced. Because it was raised so far above the main floor, they were able to advance almost to the edge without exposing themselves to view from the floor below.

There was a stone wall, about waist height, at the edge of the servants’ balcony, and when they made their way to this, they were concealed by shadows and that wall but able to see some of what was happening in the great room below.

The first thing Darann thought was that this chamber was the last place her father had been before he died. So much history had been made here… and, lately, so much corruption had been worked, to steer that history. Would that ever change? She resolved that she would do everything in her power to see that it did.

She looked around. The arched ceiling was at least a hundred feet overhead. Stone columns stood out from the walls, twelve of them rising all the way to the top, merging into the arches that all melded together in the center of the high vault. At four places around the room, including where they stood right now, there were raised platforms, allowing for a good view of the wide hall. These upper alcoves were all cloaked in shadow, though the main floor of the chamber was bathed in cool, white light.

And it was that floor that drew their attention.

Darann could see King Lightbringer, seated upon his high throne. A half dozen royal guardsmen, dressed in the ceremonial golden helms denoting palace duty, were arrayed around his seat. Aside from a few servants standing close to the walls, there was no one else visible in the great room. Darann quickly noticed that the guards and the king seemed to be directing their attention to the main doors. As she looked that way herself, those lofty portals were opened, and a servant in red livery stepped forward to announce.

“Lord Nayfal comes from the battle-and he brings two prisoners!”

Darann stiffened as the hated nobleman strode arrogantly forth. It was all she could do to restrain a cry of shock when she saw the prisoners, as her brothers were prodded forward by four armored Seers. From their mud-caked uniforms, she guessed that all of this group had come here directly from the ghetto.

Konnor gasped beside her, and when his hand went to his sword, she laid restraining fingers gently upon his arm.

“Your brothers!” he whispered urgently. “They’re captive!”

“I know,” she replied. “And we’ll get them free-but we need to wait until the time is right!”

Greta looked at them in alarm, raising her finger to her lips in a gesture for silence. Darann nodded and crouched down so that she could listen and see right over the rim of the wall.

“Your Majesty!” proclaimed Nayfal, sweeping into the room with a flourish. “I am grateful that you consented to see me at this late hour. I bring word from the ghetto-important word!”

“Very well, good lord,” said the king with a sigh. “Tell me why you summon me here thus.”

“I have here, sire, nothing less that a proof of the most base treachery-treachery lurking in an esteemed family, plainly writ for all of Axial to see.”

Aurand started to say something and was silenced by a brutal cuff from one of the guards, a blow from the hilt of his sword to the young dwarf’s skull that staggered him. With a groan, Aurand slumped to his knees, but not before Darann could see that his face was bloody, with one eye swollen shut.

“Who are these dwarves?” demanded the king, this time speaking with a little determination in his voice.

“Brothers, sire… the two sons of Rufus Houseguard. They were captured in the midst of a mob of goblins, having taken up arms against your own Royal Guard. As I said, clear proof of treachery.”