Jeff Crook: Dark Thane

His smile broadening, Jungor leaned closer to Ferro Dunskull and shouted over the noise, “Ah, this ought to be interesting. Yon Daewar warrior is Uurk Straightbeard. He claims that his opponent, the gully dwarf named Shnatz Ong, cheated him at dice and refused to return his money. He has demanded an arena confrontation according to Tarn’s Law of Redress outlawing unsanctioned revenge killings.”

“Interesting?” Ferro Dunskull snorted. “I fail to see what could possibly be entertaining about watching some dull-witted Daewar lawfully slaughter a gully dwarf.”

“You’ve already made up your mind who will win this battle then?” Jungor inquired with a taunting lilt of his basso voice.

Ferro started and stared at the Hylar thane. “You don’t mean to suggest… ” he cried. “That gully dwarf could never…”

“Of course not. He’s only a gully dwarf, after all. I simply wanted to give you an opportunity to recover your losses from the previous battle,” Jungor said quickly, finishing with another oily grin. His smile only deepened the impression of the predator in his hawkish features. His beard did little to hide the craggy angles of his face, the beaklike projection of his nose. Yet for all the fierceness of his imposing countenance, his taunting smile bore a certain charm.

“You want me to bet against that gully dwarf, don’t you?” Ferro asked, his dark violet eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I’ll give you three-to-one odds,” Jungor said solicitously.

Ferro glared down into the arena in time to see the gully dwarf nearly impale himself on his own spear. The Daewar warrior stood at the far side of the arena, respectfully waiting for the forms of combat to be completed. His bearing and demeanor spoke of supreme confidence, and his previous display of swordsmanship left no doubt as to his ability.

Ferro darted a quick glance at Jungor Stonesinger.

“Well?” the Hylar thane asked.

“It seems a sure thing,” the Daergar began slowly, as though still pondering his decision. “Which makes me doubly suspicious.”

“It’s only a friendly wager,” Jungor said innocently.

The Hylar thane’s hurt tone only provoked the Daergar. “If I don’t take the bet and your gully dwarf falls at the first blow, I’ll look like a fool. So I’ll take your bet, and this time I’ll make you suffer for it! Five hundred steel coins is my wager! There! Ha!”

Astar Trueshield’s eyes widened in alarm at the extravagance of the Daergar’s bet, but Jungor’s smile never wavered.

“Five hundred, then,” Jungor said as he rose to his feet. Ferro shrunk back in his chair, worriedly gnawing the ends of his beard.

Jungor turned and faced the arena, and, seeing him rise, Uurk Straightbeard strode to the center of the arena and began to address him. The crowd slowly became quiet as the Daewar’s words filtered through.

“…demand vengeance. This is my right! But according to the Law of Redress enacted by our high thane, Tarn Bellowgranite, blood feud and revenge killing outside the arena is forbidden. Therefore I ask the President of the Arena of Justice, Thane Jungor Stonesinger, to sanction this combat between myself and the Aghar dwarf known as Shnatz Ong.”

“The council recognizes your right to redress, and I affirm the legality of this forum,” Jungor answered, his basso voice resounding in the thick air. He spoke with a natural authority, so that even the most intoxicated dwarf in the crowd paused for a moment to appreciate the Hylar thane’s command of the forms and procedures of law so dear to many a dwarven heart. “You have chosen weapons combat, knowing that your contest may result in serious injury or death. Let it be known that no one may claim the right of revenge for that which happens in the arena here today.”

He lifted his hand in sudden invocation. “Let the spirits of our ancestors witness these events and be pleased by the honor and courage displayed by the combatants, and let them curse those who dishonor these rites.”

Many of the dwarves in the crowd turned and stared up at the thane’s box, for these words were not part of the official ceremony prescribed by law. Uurk Straightbeard seemed momentarily taken aback by this unorthodox departure from the recognized rituals. He shuffled uncertainly, waiting for the Hylar thane to finish with the usual invocation of a blessing from Reorx, the traditional god of the dwarves.

Without doing so, Jungor summarily completed the ceremony, and, dropping his hand, shouted, “Let the combat commence!”

For another moment, Uurk stared up at the box then turned and shuffled ominously toward his gully dwarf opponent.

With many eyes upon him, Jungor resumed his seat, his beatific smile unchanged. Ferro leaned close to the Hylar thane and whispered, “What in the blazes of Chaos was that all about? Did you forget the invocation to Reorx?”

“Not at all,” Jungor said absently, leaning forward in his seat to watch the combat. “Ouch! Looks like you might win that bet after all.”

At these words, Ferro’s attention snapped to the arena floor, where Shnatz Ong was now fleeing for his life, shrieking like a murdered peacock. Ferro leaned forward and gripped the edge of the box, his eyes beginning to flame with the bloodlust native to the dark dwarves of Thorbardin. Even if it promised to be a quick slaughter of a lowly gully dwarf, the sight of violent combat stirred his blood, as well as the blood of the crowd. They had quickly forgotten about Jungor’s departure from tradition in their lust to see blood spilled onto the thirsty arena floor.

The hapless gully dwarf had long since abandoned his weapon and was running in ever-tightening circles around his opponent, his rags flapping about his knees as he ran. Uurk Straightbeard continued to jab at his opponent and close the distance, even as his fury exploded at the way Shnatz Ong managed to stay just out of the reach of his silver sword. Although in prime physical condition, the Daewar couldn’t match the dizzying speed of a gully dwarf running in crazy circles.

Shnatz stumbled. The crowd roared. Ferro surged from his seat. Uurk lunged, and the tip of his sword sank into the gully dwarfs thigh just before the small fellow rolled out of reach. Squealing in agony, Shnatz crumpled in a quivering heap, clasping his wound with his filthy hands and trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“Ha! I’ve beat you this time, Jungor Stonesinger,” Ferro exclaimed as he leaped onto the edge of the box. “Fifteen hundred steel coins! That’s what you owe me. Three-to-one odds.”

Jungor shook his head and smiled.

On the arena floor, Uurk Straightbeard hovered menacingly over his fallen opponent, his longsword raised to strike. Meanwhile, he taunted the crowd, many of whom were shouting for him to spare the gully dwarf. Suddenly, two gully dwarves dropped over the wall and crawled toward him, weeping and crying. Females, by the looks of them, they begged him to spare their father’s life.

Uurk threw back his head and laughed. Lowering his weapon, he strode toward them, spitting insults and curses. “Worthless Aghar!” he screamed, his voice rising even over the tumult of the crowd. “I should kill the lot of you.”

“Do it! Kill them all!” Ferro shouted, pounding his fist on the rail box. Suddenly, his voice stuck in his throat and his mouth dropped open in surprise.

Shnatz Ong rose quickly and silently while his opponent’s back was turned. Streaking across the floor, heedless of his injury, he launched himself onto Uurk’s broad back. One grimy hand whipped over the top of the startled dwarfs head, looping under his beard in one quick motion, before coming together with the other hand behind his neck.

Uurk’s eyes started from his face as the steel garrote tightened around his throat. His longsword fell from nerveless fingertips, and he clawed weakly at the instrument of his murder even as his knees buckled and he sank, the fiercely grinning gully dwarf riding his back all the way to the ground.