Dragonvein - Book Three (2 page)

King Ganix could feel his nerves beginning to fray as they penetrated the fog surrounding Borgen. This was sure to be a difficult meeting. Bringing humans to their island was one thing. But to bring an elf…

He turned his attention to Keira, who was calmly pulling the oars of their small boat. She seemed completely unconcerned about the situation.

She regarded the king and laughed softly. “Are you afraid that your people will harm me?”

Ganix was taken slightly aback. He had not voiced his concerns to her. Though, as they had traveled, he had found Keira to be quite perceptive. “No. I doubt that,” he responded. “But it will certainly be an uncomfortable introduction.”

“You are their king, are you not?”

“I am,” he affirmed. “But I must take the feelings and fears of those I rule into consideration. There has been no contact between our people for hundreds of years. And even then it was not a pleasant encounter.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Would you have me wait for you out of sight?”

Ganix had actually given this some serious thought, but rejected the idea on principle. “No. If we are to have a peace between us, such meetings are inevitable. The problem here is that this is a secret place. Even most
dwarves
do not know of its existence.”

Keira shook her head and smiled. “Borgen is not a secret. At least, not from my people. We’ve known of it ever since it was first built.”

“How is that so?”

“Borgen was a dwarf stronghold for a very long time,” she explained. “I don’t know much of your history, but I know that my people feared it.”

“Why would they fear Borgen?”

“It was a place of great and terrible power,” she replied. “Or at least, that’s what is said. It was a home to machines of fire and steel. Your kind slaughtered many elves with the craft born from here.”

Ganix was unsure how to respond. He had no doubt that she was probably right. His ancestors would have surely used Borgen as a base of operations. And now his own people were attempting to resurrect the very machines that had been employed to kill countless numbers of elves.

Keira sensed his apprehension. “It is the distant past,” she added. “I do not hold you responsible for things in which you played no part. And whatever you fear I will witness while visiting here, rest assured that I will be unmoved. I care nothing for your tinkering. With the current state of your people, you will likely do yourselves far more harm than anything you might inflict on the elves.”

Ganix bristled at this unintended insult. “I’ll have you know that we have come quite far in our attempts to revive the crafts of our ancestors.”

Keira cocked her head. “Truly? Then I am anxious to see what you have accomplished. We had assumed that your decline was absolute.”

Ganix sniffed. “Our
decline
, as you put it, has been anything but.”

As the fog lifted and they passed through the cloak hiding the island from sight, Ganix couldn't help but notice how unimpressed Keira remained. In fact, she looked as if she had actually been
expecting
Borgen to suddenly appear. This time, however, he kept his thoughts to himself and merely directed her to steer their vessel to the southern tip of the island.

On drawing closer to the coast, Ganix spotted the wreckage from a sailing craft protruding from the water. At once, fear gripped him. Someone had found Borgen. But who? 

Keira noticed as well. “I will see who sailed it,” she said. Without awaiting a reply, she stood up and dived cleanly into the ocean, leaving Ganix staring after her.

Within seconds she had vanished into the depths. Ganix could only wait and hope that she returned safely. Explaining her death would not be an easy task. Particularly considering that her father was the elf leader.

Three nail-biting minutes passed before her head broke the surface. After letting out a loud gasp, she climbed nimbly back into the boat.

“It is an Imperial ship,” she announced between gulps of air. “It would seem that Borgen is no longer a secret after all.”

The moment the bottom of their boat scraped the shore, Ganix leapt out and drew a dwarf rod from his belt.

“Calm yourself, Your Highness,” Keira told him. “You won’t learn what has happened if you are dead.” She pointed to an outcropping of rock straight ahead. “Four men are just on the other side.”

At once Ganix crouched low, his grip on the rod so tight that his knuckles cracked. “Soldiers?”

Keira shrugged. “Perhaps. But don’t worry. They don’t know we’re here. From what I can tell they’ve been abandoned and are completely alone.”

“How do you know this?”

She smiled and touched her right ear. “Humans are quite loud. Almost as loud as dwarves.”

Ganix strained to hear the concealed men, but the only sounds that came to him were the crashing of the waves and the cries of the tree manlilu.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “My senses are far superior. Just trust me when I say they are there. But I would know what you would have us do? Will you allow them to live?”

Ganix thought on this for a moment. “No. But I do have questions that need answering.”

“Then you should wait here,” she told him. “I cannot protect you and restrain all four humans at the same time.”

“I only need one alive,” he said. “I can help you deal with the others.” He tapped the rod with his finger.

Keira paused, then nodded sharply. “As you wish.” She drew a long dagger from her belt and started off toward the rocks.

Ganix followed her as quietly as possible. He couldn't help but admire the way the elf woman moved – barely leaving an impression in the sand as she took her silent steps. Her motions were graceful and fluid. And yet she radiated an inner strength that seemed as if she was filled with the very power of Lumnia itself. It was like she had been created from magic.

Now closer, Ganix could hear the humans talking in hushed whispers, though he couldn’t yet make out what they were saying. The rocks were roughly fifty feet from the shore line on one side, and an equal distance from the trees on the other. Keira caught Ganix's eye and pointed him to the right, then crept off to the left. Ganix did as instructed, rounding the right hand side of the rocks with his rod at the ready. Just before the humans came into view, he could at last hear their conversation clearly. He paused to listen. Keira, seeing this, halted as well.

“Do you think the dwarves are coming?” asked a young sounding voice.

An older man huffed. “You ask me that just one more time and you won’t need to wait for them. I’ll kill you myself. Like I said. The captain will come back for us. You’ll see.”

“You’re dreaming,” said a third man. “You saw the same thing I did. I doubt the captain even made it back to port. The bloody dwarves blasted a hole in the ship big enough to drive a wagon through.”

“He’ll be back,” the other man insisted. “If anyone could keep her afloat, it’s the captain.”

“Too bad we didn’t have one of those dwarf boats,” remarked a fourth man with a thin raspy voice. “Have you ever heard of anything like that before?”

This was met by silence.

Ganix had heard enough. After quickly nodding over to Keira, he charged into view.

The four soldiers were sat huddled in a tight circle, their weapons on the ground beside them. Ganix's bullish approach caught them completely off-guard. They had barely grabbed their swords and jumped to their feet when he let loose a bolt of blue lightning from his rod, killing one soldier immediately. He was about to aim at the next one when Keira raced in from behind. They had not heard her coming and had no time to react. Afraid that he might accidentally hit the elf, Ganix lowered his weapon.

Keira's movements were so fast, they were little more than a blur. After plunging her dagger into the nearest foe's heart, she then spun around on her toes and slit the next man’s throat before he could so much as utter a gasp. The remaining soldier, seeing his comrades fall in such rapid succession, immediately tossed his weapon down and dropped to his knees. He was far younger than the others – in his early twenties. Ganix reckoned him to be the first voice he had heard.

“I surrender,” he cried out. “Please don’t kill me.”

Keira shoved him hard down onto his back with the flat of her foot and pressed her blood stained blade against his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, awaiting the killing stroke.

“You will answer our questions, yes?” Keira said, her tone calm and even.

Sensing that he might yet escape with his life after all, the soldier cracked open his eyes. His words gushed out. “Yes. Yes. I’ll tell you anything if you promise not to kill me.”

Ganix knelt beside the young man. He should have felt pity. But the fact that the Empire had found this place and had attacked it filled him with rage. Nonetheless, he managed to choke down his emotions and speak calmly. “Soon my people will be here to collect us. You will come with us without resistance. Struggle and my elf companion will see that your death is both long and painful. Am I making myself clear?”

The youth looked at the king with terror filled eyes. “I’ll do whatever you say. I swear I will. Please, I just want to go home.” Tears streamed down his grime covered face. At this moment he looked more like a distraught, lost child than an enemy soldier.

“Your Highness,” came a voice from a short distance away.

Ganix turned to see a young dwarf carrying a large two-handed axe. Behind him stood ten others armed with smaller axes, hammers, and dwarf rods. The captive human was completely ignored. All of their eyes were fixed on Keira. Quickly overcoming their astonishment at seeing one of their ancient enemies on the island, the group surged forward to attack. Ganix hastily sprang to his feet and spread his arms wide.

“Halt!” he commanded. “This elf is my guest and is not to be harmed.”

The onrushing dwarves stopped short, though with bewildered expressions on their faces. Apparently untroubled by the display of aggression, Keira rose slowly and sheathed her blade.

“Take the soldier and hold him,” Ganix continued. “Then bring me to Rakaal.”

The lead dwarf lowered his eyes. “Rakaal is dead, Your Highness.”

Ganix felt a cold pain stab into his stomach. “Dead? How?”

The dwarf pointed to the human. “When they attacked, we repelled them by using the three remaining boats. Rakaal insisted on going with us and was sadly consumed by a fire blower during the battle.”

The news of his cousin's fate struck Ganix like a blow to the face. His legs began to wobble, but Keira was at his side in a flash to steady him.

“I’m fine,” he said weakly after a moment or two. He took a deep breath before looking up. “Take the human and secure him. I will need to question him later. But first, tell me who leads you now?”

“Hanvir, Your Highness,” the lead dwarf replied. “I’ll bring you to him at once.”

Two of his men dragged the still trembling soldier to his feet and together they set off toward the center of the island.

The entrance descending into the interior was guarded by six more dwarves. As with the first group, they initially regarded Keira with a mixture of astonishment and hostility. Ganix noticed that she did not display any kind of reaction when the doors slid open to reveal the metal staircase.

“Does none of this seem unusual to you?” he asked.

She shrugged. “
All
dwarf craft is unusual.”

After winding their way through the corridors for a time, the soldier was placed in a room completely stripped of all furnishings. Ganix instructed two dwarves to guard the door until his return. He was then led on to a small workshop that, with only a single table lining the rear wall, was barely a quarter of the size of the one Rakaal had been using during his last visit to the island. From the ceiling hung several unidentifiable items, most of which had been partially disassembled.

Over to the right, a lone dwarf was seated behind a metal desk, his deep set eyes focused intently on a leather bound book. His salt and pepper hair was disheveled, and his normally clean shaven face was covered in short stubble. After a moment he glanced up at the king and closed the book.

“You can leave us,” Ganix told his escort.

“This is all your fault,” Hanvir began, his jaw tight. “You led them right to us.”

Having set the tone, he rose and retrieved two chairs from the corner, placing them both in front of the desk. Ganix remained silent as he and Keira took a seat. Once back behind the desk, Hanvir removed a folded parchment from a drawer and pushed it contemptuously across to the king.

“These were Rakaal’s final words,” he stated. “It is addressed to you.”

Ganix stared at the parchment for several seconds before opening it.

“He left it in case he was killed during the assault,” Hanvir added.

While Ganix carefully read the page, a single tear fell down his cheek and was soon lost as it soaked into his beard. “I am so sorry that this happened,” he said when finished, refolding the message and placing it into his pocket.