Jeff Crook - The Rose and the Skull

"Ah, that's better," Zen said in a deep powerful voice. He shook out his wings and stretched like a cat awakening from a nap.

"Now, allow me to introduce to you our long-awaited guest. General Zen, meet Uhoh Ragnap, esquire," Iulus said. The sivak stared down at the prostrate gully dwarf.

"Hello," Uhoh said.

Iulus laughed. "Oh, he is a good sport, don't you think?" he said. "Uhoh was brought in by Harj and that sanctimonious idiot, Shaeder. Harj has once again proved himself valuable in this little affair, but I think Shaeder's blatant disregard for subtlety needs addressing."

"I agree, my lord," Zen said.

"In the meanwhile, Uhoh was just about to impart to me the dire nature of his master's last words. He also needs to tell us who else shares his little secret," Iulus said. "We know that, at the very least, he spoke to that onetime priest of Chislev, Nalvarre Ringbow."

"I blame myself, my lord," General Zen said. "I had him right across the campfire from me. He suspected nothing because I'd take the form of the ranger I'd killed just after dark. If I had known of the priest's involvement, I'd have silenced him then."

"I know, my friend. I don't blame you," Iulus said. He turned and knelt beside the gully dwarf, his reptilian snout almost in Uhoh's ear. "Torture is so messy," he hissed, "but we have to be sure you are telling the truth. Now tell me, what was Gunthar's last shuddering whisper that fateful afternoon?"

"What afternoon?" Uhoh asked.

"Don't play stupid with me. You know which afternoon," the draconian Grand Master snarled.

"Yes," Uhoh squeaked.

"What did he say?"

"The book… Kalabash… in bell room," Uhoh began.

"Stop blabbering, you fool! You are only making it worse for yourself," Iulus warned, pointing one long, goldish claw at the terrified gully dwarf.

"Tell him Liam tell no one," Uhoh continued.

"Master, this is useless," Zen said. "Just kill him and be done with it. That way, no matter what the secret, he can never tell it to another soul."

"But if Gunthar suspected anything, said as much to this creature before he died," Iulus said with a disdainful gesture at Uhoh, "then he might have told others. Our plans could be thwarted. What this gully dwarf tells will help us decide whether we can proceed with caution or confidence."

"I see, my master," Zen said, his voice betraying a shade of uncertainty.

"It is fruitless to resist. We have ways, painful ways of making you talk," Iulus said as he returned his monocular gaze upon Uhoh.

"I talk already. I go now?" Uhoh asked.

Suddenly, Iulus chuckled. Rising to his full seven-foot height, he motioned to the baaz torturers. "I must say, he is a good sport. Don't go too hard on him, but make sure he isn't hiding anything," he ordered.

Turning, he took Zen by the arm and led the sivak from the torture chamber. As the door closed, a shrill scream shattered the night.

Aurak Grand Master of Assassins Iulus set down his silver goblet and gripped the edge of the table with his clawed hands. His one good eye rolled up in his head.

"This wine is superb!" he groaned in ecstasy. "Zen, you really have outdone yourself with tonight's catch."

"It is quite good," Zen agreed, though not with the emotion displayed by his master.

Iulus picked up the goblet in one clawed hand and swirled its contents thoughtfully. Human servants wearing iron collars scurried about the chamber, lighting tapers, trimming wicks, and clearing away the plates from supper. The Grand Master tossed back the remainder in his glass, all the while eyeing the sivak. General Zen merely toyed with his cup, sipping lightly and infrequently.

"Something bothering you, my friend?" Iulus asked. "Would you like a little music with your wine?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned in his chair and lifted a bronze cap from a metal tube protruding from the wall. Faint echoes of tortured screams welled from the tube.

"No, my master," Zen sighed.

"Is your cup dirty? I'll have the dishwasher flogged," Iulus said.

"The wine is fine," Zen said. "That's the problem. We drink the finest wines of Palanthas while our warriors have to content themselves with watered ale or whatever they can brew themselves. It doesn't seem right. I remember the days when you and I ate boot leather and hobgoblins just to keep alive. That's what made us what we are today-hard living. It made us strong."

Iulus nodded in agreement.

"Do you remember when we pillaged Que-shu and burned Solace to the ground?" Zen asked. "Do you remember how we laughed at how fat those lands were, and how much they deserved destroying. That is what I fear, that now we are grown fat and deserve destroying. This unsettling affair with the gully dwarf only justifies my fears."

"The gully dwarf is nothing. We'll soon learn what we need from him, then we can mop up those he told and be done with it," Iulus said.

"But the Knights…" Zen protested.

"Soon the Knights of Solamnia will not be a concern. Matters are coming to a head there. The Knights are finished, and they don't even know it," Iulus said.

A servant entered the room and approached the Grand Master. He knelt beside the table and whispered something that Zen was unable to hear.

Iulus nodded, then looked up at Zen. "Speaking of Knights, we have a visitor." The servant hurried away.

After a few moments, the door reopened and an armored Knight entered the room. The Knight wore a full helm with the visor pulled down hiding the face.

"What is the word?" Iulus asked.

"Pyrothraxus has retreated to Mount Nevermind," the Knight answered in a voice muffled by the helm.

"What?" Iulus screeched in surprise. The twisted, malformed half of his face turned scarlet. "Was Isherwood destroyed and the Knights there killed?"

"Isherwood is no more, but the dragon retreated without ascertaining that the Knights and the priest of Chislev were inside," the Knight said.

Iulus slammed his clawed fist on the table, cracking the heavy oaken plank down its full length. "A flight of red dragons would have served better," he cursed. "At least we can control them."

"Pyrothraxus won't allow reds onto the island," Zen said.

"Fool, don't you think I know that?" the Grand Master snarled.

Zen scowled at the rebuff, but said nothing. Meanwhile, Iulus seemed to regain control of his emotions.

"Well, it is of no concern," Iulus said. "Even if they escape, they'll never make it to Castle uth Wistan before the council. Liam has agreed to an open vote for the succession. Once Lady Mirielle is in command, the Knights of Solamnia will be finished."

"They'll demand someone be sent to rescue the gully dwarf," the helmed Knight said. "He can still cause problems. It were best if he is killed now."

"I think you overestimate the importance of our little friend," Iulus said. "When we find out his secret, then we'll dispose of him immediately. Meanwhile, with Pyrothraxus threatening their border, they'd never risk sending a contingent just to rescue a gully dwarf."

"Very well," the Knight said. "Oh, by the way, I've brought you a little present."

"Really? And what, pray tell, is that?" Iulus asked.

The Knight removed her helm and shook out her dark hair. "Something called a highbulp, the fugitive gully dwarf slave," she said. "Her name is Mommamose. She would already be dead, and I wouldn't be so inconvenienced, if it wasn't for the incompetence of your soldiers."

"Really, something must be done about Shaeder," Zen said as he motioned the Knight to have a seat at the table.

"Bring another bottle of that excellent wine," Iulus ordered one of the servants.

"Bring two," Alya said with a laugh as she tossed her dragon helm in the corner.

A knock on the door startled Liam from his reverie. He'd been nodding off, dreaming of things that could have been, while atop his desk, Gunthar's desk, the old man's manuscript lay just as he had left it in disgust some three weeks earlier. He'd spent nearly every day since the reading of the will in Gunthar's study, supposedly editing the Revised Measure into some kind of workable order. Instead he'd spent most of that time looking out the window, examining the paintings on the wall, picking at his fingernails, or simply dozing. He couldn't bring himself to sit down at the desk and try to organize Gunthar's life's work, his parting gift to the Knighthood, the work for which he'd be remembered throughout the ages. For Gunthar's Measure frightened Liam as no mortal enemy ever had. He'd faced dragons in battle, thousands of feet above the ground, but this task he'd set himself, to edit the Measure, paralyzed him with its enormity.