Graves of the Gods, page 4
Tanelith listened with one ear as Galote and King Ziri talked. Pontificated, in the case of the king, mildly stated from Galote’s point.
Keeping her footsteps silent, Tanelith walked the edges of the great throne room, away from where the king sat. The audience chamber, where the court probably gathered, had many hidden passageways. Tanelith counted at least a half dozen doorways that no one would notice at first glance.
She stopped in front of each one, listening.
Most of them appeared to have people hidden behind them. Probably slavers, with their nets and blood-metal swords.
After the first time she paused, she looked back at the array of guardians, those who still stood.
Delfele was watching her. Tanelith realized that probably none of the other Egarlorsar could track her. Delfele nodded at Tanelith, marking the spot where she’d stopped.
Good. At least someone other than Tanelith would be aware of the hidden passages and Dwarves. Tanelith continued her way around the area, making sure that Delfele about all the entrances she could find. Chances were, there would be others that she’d missed as well.
While the audience chamber was kept dark, the dais where the king sat was well lit. Three great chandeliers made up of brilliant crystals hung over the throne, which was a marvel in and of itself. It appeared to be carved from a single great geode. The colors were predominately purple and red, fading to white along the edges. No other carvings distracted from the beauty of the stone, unlike the walls which were covered in geometric shapes and precisely cut precious gems.
King Ziri did indeed sit alone on the throne. Tanelith couldn’t tell without getting closer if there were hidden doorways behind him, tucked away amidst the bright white walls and golden carvings. She assumed there were.
The king’s beard was kept neat and short, much shorter than the slavers. Instead of bone and metal bits woven in, he had silver and gold beads. His head was as bald as all the others, and his eyes were dark, staring out from pudgy cheeks. Armor covered him, again, much more finely made than any of the fighters Tanelith had seen. Instead of plain metal, it was decorated, inlaid with designs of brass and gold.
“Yer all doomed, ye know,” King Ziri was telling Galote. “The Elves have fallen. Yer are lesser now, than ye used to be.”
Tanelith grimaced. She’d heard such comments before, from Aaryn.
“As are you,” Galote said. “Unable to do your own work, but relying on the labor of others. What happens when that pool is cut off from you? When your people must run the mines on their own?”
“Bah,” King Ziri said. “That will never happen. Ye have lost.”
“Do you know where we come from?” Galote said. “Not from the Blasted Plains. Or the Broken Mountains. But from one of the floating cities. Vallethlar.”
Tanelith may have been imagining it, but she thought she saw a look of worry cross the king’s face.
“Ye speak with pretty words, like a market storyteller. Tall tales to soothe yer woes,” King Ziri finally countered with. “Stories of myth and legend.”
Galote seemed amused. “Would such stories include so many guardians? In full armor? Such as we are?”
“Yer fancy dress won’t save ye,” King Ziri said.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter if you slay us all,” Galote said. “You’ll never be able to mine the blood metal ore again.”
Tanelith started at that. What had Galote done?
Then again, she’d said that the Egarlorsar would close the mine.
Not by blowing it up, but through magic.
Tanelith heard a shifting behind her. The warriors hidden behind the walls were getting ready to attack.
Delfele appeared to have heard it as well, for she looked back at Tanelith and nodded again.
Good. The guardians were ready.
Was Tanelith?
No. She’d never be ready for another battle.
But she’d survive this one, as she had the others, if she could.
“How could ye close the mine?” King Ziri said. He sounded puzzled.
“With magic,” was all Galote said. “Guardians! To me!”
The Egarlorsar all rushed forward, heading toward the dais.
Behind them, dozens of the Gilukkhaz rushed out.
Not merely warriors this time.
No, slavers were mixed in with them, carrying their nets and their chains.
The clanking sound put a chill in Tanelith’s heart. She froze where she was, the mass of Dwarves passing before her.
Luckily, Tanelith was still hidden in the shadows, and the Gilukkhaz were all facing away from her, directing their attention to the greater threat, those brilliant Elven warriors in their milk-white armor.
Tanelith shortened her blade to the in between form, that of a dagger.
She knew that she wasn’t a trained warrior. She’d just be in the way of those up front.
Instead, she stayed behind, silently killing one of the Dwarven slavers by fatally stabbing him in the back. The sound of his chains dropping to the floor gave her more strength. So she killed a second.
She left the warriors alone. They were too armored.
The slavers though, in their arrogance, only wore the vests of their office.
Sure, they were good fighters. But leather wouldn’t protect them from the Dissolving Blade.
Tanelith refused to allow any qualms to stay her hand, or to let herself show any mercy.
These were slavers. They had never shown any kindness to her people.
It was only after Tanelith had killed her fourth slaver that someone spotted her. Maybe he was more used to capturing the Egarlorsar, spiriting them away from their homes.
He wheeled on her as she approached. He was particularly ugly, with a scar running down his left cheek. One eye was covered over with white pus, while the other tracked her.
“Lose yer sight, gain other abilities,” he growled at her.
Without pause, the slaver rushed at Tanelith, swinging his chains in one hand, carrying a sword in the other.
Tanelith knew that the chains were forged with blood metal. One touch would drain away her magic. She was more worried about them than the sword. Her armor could take the brunt of that.
How could she get rid of those chains, though?
The slaver gave her a cruel smile. “Aye, ye know these, don’tcha? Know what they can do. How they’ll take ye down.”
“You won’t touch me,” Tanelith growled.
She rose up in the air, aiming for a high kick at the slaver’s head.
He stumbled back, lashing out at the last moment with the chains.
The glancing blow across Tanelith’s arm made her gasp. Her armor dimmed for a moment.
“Yes, ye know our kiss,” the slaver said. He rattled the chains in his hand deliberately, knowing the sound would send fear into Tanelith’s heart.
“You don’t know mine,” Tanelith taunted back. She swirled the sword to the left, then the right, all the while dancing to stay out of reach.
“Ye can’t win,” the slaver grumbled at her as he lunged and missed again.
“Neither can you,” Tanelith said.
She knew, knew what she had to do next.
She just needed to trust that her armor would hold even as her magic lessened.
Tanelith took another step, grabbing hold of the chain with her free hand, wrapping it around her arm, pulling the slaver closer.
She gasped as her strength fled.
“Gotcha now,” the slaver grinned.
Tanelith forced herself to take a shuffling step forward. Then another step.
Light faded quickly from her armor, and it grew dull black, like coarse metal.
“So ye want to dance?” the slaver asked, drawing Tanelith to his chest.
The smell of his foul breath made her eyes water, but she held on, bringing her dagger up.
With the last of her reserves, Tanelith poured everything she had into the Dissolving Blade.
It shot out to its full length, piercing the slaver in the heart.
“Gotcha now,” Tanelith said as the slaver dropped to the ground, the look of surprise on his face almost comical.
She dropped the blood metal chain, kicking it away to the side of the room, out of the way of the other fighters. It was too chaotic to see who was winning, but given the fierceness of the Galote’s warriors, she hoped they would prevail.
After sending yet another quick thanks to the Goddess, she turned to rejoin the battle, and find her next victim.
Chapter
Nine
“The king is dead!” came the rising call from the dais. “King Ziri is dead!”
Slowly, those fighting stepped away from one another. Blades were still raised, and any wrong movement would restart the battle.
Tanelith still stood in shadows at the back of the king’s hall, dispatching slavers from behind. She’d only had to fight the one. The next four had never seen her coming.
One of the Gilukkhaz with fancier armor stepped forward. “What, ye think we should thank ye for that, or something?” He gave a guttural laugh. “Yes, I’ll inherit the throne. King Duri, at yer service. But I won’t be granting any boons. Yer all doomed to die here.”
“The ore you use for the blood metal is tainted,” Galote asserted. “All of the veins have been poisoned. No one can mine them now.”
That brought a general grumbling from those still alive.
“Yer bluffing,” the new king said.
“You know the wastelands, far to the north?” Galote asked. She continued before he could respond. “The fall of the great city Brinoriand created them. Rather than allow your kind to take control of the city, we poisoned it. When it fell, the poison spilled out, corrupting the land. Believe me, tainting the ore was simple in comparison.”
King Duri seemed shocked at that. He recovered quickly, saying, “Ye claim ye’ve destroyed our greatest pride, the blood metal, the recipe handed down from the God Zanargil himself. Ye’ve killed our king. Why should we allow ye life?”
Tanelith actually thought that was a fair question. The Egarlorsar had destroyed the way of life for the Dwarves. Even if it was for their own good.
“The blood metal was making you crazed,” Galote said. “The fumes made you mad.”
Surprisingly, the ones who appeared to acknowledge this were the slavers who still lived. The warriors grew stiff, while the slavers just nodded at Galote’s words.
“The fumes of life! The fumes of war!” King Duri proclaimed.
The other warriors all gave a hoarse shout of agreement. The slavers stayed silent.
“The fumes are your death,” Galote said. “Let us leave. We will engage again on the field of battle. You can go to the aid of your good friends the Ilburh.”
One by one, the Egarlorsar at the front of the room started to vanish.
Inerlac must be casting a spell to hide them.
Tanelith, still encased in shadows herself, silently made her way toward the door leading back to the smelting room.
“Ye will not cheat us of our vengeance,” King Duri said. “Attack!”
“Retreat!” Galote called in response.
Tanelith could barely see the other guardians, but she knew that at least some of them were fleeing beside her.
Fighting erupted behind them. The hallway cut off the attackers, though. They couldn’t all get through. Plus, some of the guardians must have stayed behind, holding the way clear for the rest of them to escape.
It was a matter of moments before they raced through the smelting room. The great furnace at the center of it had melted. Just a puddle of cold iron sat there now, the great amber eyes of the beast floating on top of it.
Still, the Elves ran. Tanelith vowed to learn the names of those who had stayed behind, who were blocking the way, giving the rest of them the chance to escape.
There were going to be too many names on her list of people to remember before the end of the conflict. There wasn’t much she could do about that.
Through the smelting room, back to the mine.
Surprisingly, a large group of Egarlorsar who had been freed still stood there.
“What are you doing here?” demanded one of the guard—Tanelith thought it was Malogi, though it was difficult to tell, as all the warriors had their visors down. “You should have fled long before now.”
“We are going to stay and help fight,” said the person in the front of the group.
“You aren’t armed. You have no weapons,” Malogi said.
The Elves in front of them raised shovels, picks, and pikes in response. Plus, a blue glow filled the area, each person suddenly encased in what looked like a shielding bubble.
“We will see you out safely,” the person insisted. “You have freed us. Now, let us help you escape. As you said, we have no armor, no weapons. It is more important that you live, so that you can continue the battle on another day.”
Tanelith couldn’t help her words. “But we just freed you! Now, you’re all going to die!”
“Yes,” the person said with a peaceful smile. “We will die free. Don’t worry. The most injured among us has already gone. Only the most hale remain.”
More Elvish warriors poured in from the hallway. “They’re right behind us!” they said.
“Go,” the person said as he and his companions raced into the battle. “We will hold them as long as we can.”
Galote’s voice suddenly rose up. “Go,” she echoed. “We do not all need to sacrifice ourselves.” She turned to the person with his pitiful shovel. “The mine will blow up shortly. When the light emerges, you’ll only have moments to make it out alive.”
“I hear you,” the person said. “We’ll hold them off, and only run when the fires come. Now, go.”
“Thank you,” Galote said. “You will be remembered.”
The person shrugged. “We will die free,” he repeated fiercely. “That is what matters. You’ve given us hope. Now, go spread that hope to the rest of Ithlond.”
Galote gestured for the rest of the guardians to start for the exit. Tanelith raced to the front of the group, stepping out of the shadows so that the others could see her, finally.
While the way there had been fairly straight forward, there had been more than one junction that they’d had to make a choice. She could immediately find their way out while she doubted that any of the rest could.
Galote called out, “Follow Tanelith!” So it seemed that the old warrior approved.
The Egarlorsar raced ahead. Tanelith no longer worried about shadows, or keeping her footsteps silent. Her heart beat hard and her breath caught. She drew on what little magical reserves that she still had.
They had to make it out before the mine blew up. She didn’t know what would happen to the tunnels then, if they would be structurally compromised by the explosion, collapsing into rubble and trapping them there.
Hopefully, at least some of the freed Egarlorsar would make it out behind them.
Though Tanelith would have said that it had taken more than an hour, as the Ilburh measure time, to reach the mine, it took much less than that to reach the exit. Then again, fear had given her feet wings, and Tanelith had run faster than she’d ever run before unaided by direct moonlight.
Without pause, Tanelith led the Egarlorsar out of the mountain. They spilled out across the open area.
The watchers sitting above them noticed them this time.
Tanelith heard the scream of a guardian as lightning struck her from behind.
Fortunately, in order to attack, the Dwarves had made themselves visible.
More than one bolt of pure blue magic struck their lookout, spreading like wildfire across the stone.
A huge crack filled the quiet night.
The outcropping of rock that the watchers had stood on broke away from the face of the mountain, tumbling to the ground behind the guardians.
Tanelith grabbed at the shadows again, then raced back toward the entrance of the mine. A dull thump sounded in front of her, and the ground under her feet rose and fell.
The mine had been blown up.
Tanelith waited at the edge of the entrance, hoping that at least some of those they’d freed made it out alive.
A few came staggering toward her. She quickly covered them in shadows and raced them away.
Delfele joined her, taking over her charges as Tanelith went back for more.
In all, only thirty of the slaves survived. She learned later that most of the enslaved Elves had been killed during the first culling that the Dwarves had done. No one had an accurate count, but it was assumed that there had been over four hundred working the mine at one point.
Tanelith tried to tell herself that a mere thirty was enough, but it felt like a lie.
Chapter
Ten
Despite Tanelith’s exhaustion, she still barely slept for the remainder of the night, getting up with the sun as it rose into the sky. The camp was quiet, as if the enormity of their situation weighed down on every person.
Yet, birds still sang merrily as they went about their foraging. Bees and butterflies danced across the wildflowers. The air clung to the evening cool, not warming up until the sun was much higher in the sky. Under other circumstances, Tanelith would call this a beautiful day.
Vyncis was walking around that morning, helping himself to food from the common area instead of being served by the healers. “It was about time I started doing things for myself,” he told Tanelith when she hurried to his side, asking how he was. “Heard you had an adventure last night. Think I could ask you the same. What are you doing up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Tanelith admitted. The battles had left her all wound up. And yet exhausted at the same time, everything feeling stretched thin inside of her.
They broke their fast together, Tanelith telling Vyncis all about the battles from the day before.
“I suppose there will be another war council, this morning,” Vyncis said as Tanelith wound down. “Do ye know what ye’ll be doing?”
