The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,52

had never been another function for them apart from making those symbols on the ground.” The young woman looked at Zedrik. “They’d placed the intestines in between the bones to give color. When we first saw it from the distance we didn’t know what it was made of. Then we used our telescopes…”

The watchman ran outside, two others following him, not wanting to vomit over the feet of their friends.

Frederik had grown very pale, but kept his head. “And yet you think of giving up?” he confronted the others. “If the älfar decide to turn Topholiton into a work of art—you’ll die with the knowledge that you were too cowardly to stand up and resist!” Anger had brought out the veins on his forehead.

“So what do we do?” called Zedrik from the doorway, wiping his mouth. The tips of his boots were shiny and wet, bits of food still clinging to them. “Go to war? Against the thirdlings and the älfar? We’d have to kill our own families first so they’re not executed by the enemy.” He gave a choked laugh. “No one can save us from them, Frederik. Only the gods, perhaps, but they must have made up their minds to make us suffer for many cycles yet.”

“The gods would come to our help if we dared to rebel against the vassal-rulers,” replied the butcher fervently, but he was calmed by Mallenia’s hand on his shoulder.

“I know how worried you all are but I do see that I should withdraw from the campaign for a time, as my good friend Frederik suggests,” she announced, and a sigh of relief went round the room. “I shall let you know when we next ride out together but, until then, stay with your families and behave as if nothing were wrong. I need you alive.” She stood up. “There will come a time when we will rise up against the älfar, but it will not be tomorrow and will not be in thirty orbits. We will know when an opportunity presents itself, and all three of the realms will be ready and waiting.” She drew her sword and held it high. “For Gauragar, Urgon and Idoslane! For freedom for all!”

They all echoed her cry, cheering and applauding Mallenia, descendant of the famous prince.

Suddenly the lamps went out!

Somebody laughed nervously in the dark, others cried out in dismay, calling for light; Mallenia could hear that at least two of the conspirators had drawn their swords, fearing an attack—or was this an attack?

She ducked down and placed her left hand on her second sword, thinking through various possibilities of who could be attacking her here in the cellar: The thirdlings with Hargorin, some bounty hunters or the Dsôn Aklán älfar?

She realized there had not been a draft strong enough to extinguish all four lamps. Magic? A particular sort of magic. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Have they found me?

The cellar door banged open, dim light coming from the windows opposite.

A figure stood on the threshold, bending slightly forward, a long sword in his hand. The conspirators immediately recognized the sharply pointed ears and were terrified by the sight, because they knew what it meant for all those in the cellar: Death.

Behind the älf stood the sheriff, his face like wax in the light of a single ray of light.

“Well, well, what have we here? The rebels,” said the älf in a velvety voice. “Well spotted, Sheriff. They have indeed broken into your cellar to steal supplies.” The tone betrayed that he was protecting the sheriff and did not intend to connect him with the deeds of the rebels. The älf took a bag of gold from his belt and threw it over his shoulder, so that it fell in the snow in front of the sheriff. “Here—here’s your reward.”

“Have mercy, sire!” Zedrik was the first to whine. “Have mercy on our families! They knew nothing about what we’ve done.” Sinking to his knees at the bottom of the steps, which were the only way out of the cellar, he stretched up his arms in supplication. “Spare their lives!”

The älf took two steps down in order to accommodate his full height. They could still only see his silhouette because the light was behind him. No one had dared try to relight the candles.

“So what exactly have you done? Let’s have some confessions and then your families shall be allowed to continue to enjoy the light of day.” He raised his