Troy Denning: The Amber Enchantress

Save for his great age, which had etched dozens of furrows into his brow and left his jowls sagging like a beard, the man appeared typical of the dwarven guards flanking him. He had a squat build, with dark hairless skin and a rocklike bearing. A ridge of thickened skull ran along the top of his head, and harsh, jutting features dominated his face.

“Who are you to speak for Er’Stali?” Sadira demanded, placing both hands on the obsidian pommel of the cane.

“I am Lyanius, Kled’s uhrnomus! ” the old man bellowed.

“What’s an uhrnomus? ” Sadira asked, looking to Rikus for an explanation.

“The village founder,” Rikus answered. With a hairless body that seemed nothing but knotted sinew, he looked to be a taller, more lithe version of the dwarves-and with good reason. Rikus was a mul, a human-dwarf crossbreed who had inherited the best features of both races.

When Lyanius continued to stare silently down at them, Rikus went on to explain, “The uhrnomus speaks for his village. If he doesn’t want us to see Er’Stali, then we won’t.”

“That’s unacceptable,” said Agis, speaking for the first time. The noble was a vigorous man, with a sturdy frame and handsome features. He had long black hair streaked with gray, a pensive brow set over brown eyes, and a square, firm jaw. “I didn’t spend ten days in the desert to be turned away at the gate.”

“The choice is Lyanius’s, not ours,” said Rikus.

“Perhaps I can change his mind,” said Agis, fixing his eyes on the aged dwarf.

Rikus grabbed the noble’s shoulder. “Lyanius may be stubborn, but I owe him a great deal. Don’t even think of using the Way against him.”

Agis pulled away indignantly. “Who do you take me for-Tithian?”

The noble returned his gaze to Lyanius. “Before you make your decision, won’t you allow me to explain why we must speak to Er’Stali?”

“No,” answered the uhrnomus .

“Has something happened to him?” Rikus demanded.

“What makes you think that?” demanded Lyanius, scowling.

“Because you won’t let us see him,” Rikus said, his voice growing more concerned. “He hasn’t died, has he?”

Lyanius shook his head, though his eyes betrayed an unspoken concern. “No, he’s alive-”

“But not well,” Rikus concluded.

The old dwarf nodded.

“We’ll disturb him as little as possible,” Agis said. “Still, our need is great and we must speak-”

“I’m sorry,” Lyanius said, holding his hand up to silence the noble. “I’ll have water and food brought to the gate, so that you can begin your journey home freshly provisioned.”

“There’s more wrong here then he’s saying,” Sadira whispered to Rikus. “Even if Er’Stali’s sick, that’s no reason to keep us out of the village.”

The mul nodded. “That’s so, but what are we to do?”

As Sadira considered the problem, two more people appeared atop the gatehouse. The first was a dwarven male she did not know. He stood a full head taller than his fellows, with a lanky build and a crimson sun tattooed on his head. His rust-colored eyes burned with a fiery intensity, visible even from the bottom of the tower.

Sadira recognized the other figure, Rikus’s former fighting partner from the arena. Neeva was a blonde human with emerald eyes, pale skin, and full red lips. She towered above the dwarves like a desert willow in a thicket of mulga bushes, with a hugely swollen belly that hung over the rooftop’s low balustrade. Though she wore a light cloak over her back and fair shoulders, she had intentionally left her abdomen exposed to the sun’s searing rays. Even the underside was burned to a deep red sheen, with pale pink strips where layers of skin had peeled away.

“Rikus!” Neeva called, temporarily ignoring Agis and Sadira. “How wonderful to see you!”

Rikus did not reply. Instead, he only stared at the underside of his ex-lover’s swollen stomach, his mouth hanging agape and his black eyes betraying his distress.

Sadria tapped his arm with the tip of her cane. “Close your mouth,” she whispered. “It won’t do to seem jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Rikus hissed.

“Of course not,” Sadira replied, a wry smile crossing her lips. “But it hardly matters to me. I don’t resent your feelings for Neeva.”

“Not that you could say anything if you did,” Rikus said, casting a meaningful glance at Agis.

“Now is no time to discuss our relationship,” the noble whispered. ‘ “The only thing that matters is convincing this Lyanius to let us see Er’Stali-and it occurs to me that you can persuade Neeva to support us.”

Rikus frowned. “How?”

“You could start by saying hello,” Sadira answered. “It might help if she doesn’t think you’re angry with her.”

The mul looked back to the top of the gatehouse. “It’s good to see you, too, Neeva,” he said. “You’re looking, uh-very hale.”

“What I’m looking is fat and pregnant,” Neeva laughed. “Now, what are you doing here? You didn’t come all this way to wish me well.”

“Tyr’s in danger,” Agis answered quickly.

“That’s unfortunate for Tyr,” said the red-eyed dwarf next to Neeva. “My wife is in no condition to fight.”

“They can see that, Caelum,” she said, laying a hand on the dwarf’s arm. “Besides, I doubt they came all this way after a single sword arm.”

“Neeva’s correct, Caelum,” said Agis. “If it comes down to a fight, a hundred warriors like her couldn’t save Tyr.”

“What do you mean?” asked Neeva, frowning.

“The Dragon’s coming to the city,” explained Rikus.

Neeva and the dwarves stared at the mul with blank expressions, as if he had spoken in a language they didn’t comprehend.

After a pause of several moments, Agis added, “He’s demanded a sacrifice of a thousand lives-a levy we intend to deny. We’re hoping Er’Stali can remember something from the Book of Kemalok Kings that might help us defy the Dragon.”

Looking at Rikus, Lyanius asked, “This Dragon, could it be the same one King Rkard spoke of?”

“I believe it is,” the mul answered. To Sadira and Agis, he explained, “The last time I was here, the ghost of King Rkard appeared. Among other things, he told the dwarves that the lost city of their forefathers had been visited by the Dragon.”

Rikus had hardly finished his explanation before Lyanius declared, “I must ask you to leave at once. You’ll receive no help from Kled or any of its citizens.”

“A thousand people will die!” Sadira objected.

“Better that than all of Kled,” Lyanius answered. “If we help you, the Dragon will destroy us.”

“He’ll never know,” said Agis. “We’ve taken measures to keep both our journey and its purpose secret.”

The old man shook his head resolutely. “We cannot take the risk.”

Sadira looked to Neeva. “You know better than anyone why we can’t sacrifice a thousand blameless lives.”

“The decision is the uhrnomus’s , not mine,” answered Neeva, looking away.

“But the uhrnomus will listen to Caelum, and Caelum will listen to you,” Rikus answered. “Help us-for the sake of Tyr”

“I can’t ask these people to risk their lives for Tyr,” Neeva answered, waving her arm toward the village. “I have no right.”

“Forget about Tyr,” Sadira said, pointing at Neeva’s belly. “Do you want your child to live in terror of the Dragon?”

Neeva gave Sadira a resentful look. “Better that than to die in the womb,” she said.

“Really?” Agis asked. “If you teach your child to hide from tyranny instead of resisting it, are you not teaching it to live in bondage?”