Opening Gambit
Part Two
Korik’s carriage rolled into Djaar Bosmer to fanfare. Angrif Djun stood outside the keep to welcome his dearest councillor, a grimace of a smile on his face. “Welcome Korik,” he announced grandly. “My old friend.”
The boy Djun spread his arms wide to embrace him, but Korik chose to kneel. The crowd approved of the gesture, and their cheers drowned out whatever else was murmured between the men as Angrif raised him to his feet and clapped him hard on the back.
“You did not need to come all this way, Korik,” he said loudly, when the cheers had died down. “I know how trying such a journey must have been, for a man of your age.”
And in Korik’s ear, he whispered: “Go home old man, if you know what’s good for you.”
“My Djun, my place is ever at your side,” Korik replied cheerfully. “I am yours to command.”
And under his breath: “You’ll not be rid of me so easily, boy.”
“Shall I resort to a dagger?”
“You’ve had a blade marked for me since you were old enough to scheme. But I’m not ready to yield yet.”
“I have archers on the roof aimed at you.”
Korik caught the boy in a second embrace. “And I have a knife up my sleeve. You said you’re a man now, so stop acting the child.”
Rowb watched the whole exchange with a blank face. If only they’d stop lovemaking and just kill each other, he thought grimly. It would solve all my problems. But Korik and Angrif continued their strained smiles and their whispered threats, and it seemed neither of them had the stones to draw blood.
At length Djun and former Regent entered the keep to the renewed cheers of the crowd. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Angrif and Korik’s guards formed a defensive circle around their respective magnates.
“Rowb, have you found proper lodgings for our old friend?” Angrif asked.
“Will the old kitchens suit, Dominance?”
“The outbuildings? Excellent. Convey our guest to his new estate and make sure no one goes in or out without my say-so.”
“Planning to starve me to death, Angrif? You should know I’ve suborned a man in your service. And if I disappear, he will castrate you.”
“I should cut you down right here!”
“Even you aren’t fool enough to try.”
“Take him, Rowb! Then fetch him back for dinner. Since we’re such good friends, Korik, you’ll dine with me, in public.”
“You think I’d willingly eat food from your table?”
“I suppose that depends… on how hungry you get.”
Rowb stepped forward. “If you’ll come with me, my Lord Regent–”
“Don’t call him that!” Angrif snapped.
“My Lord Korik,” Rowb amended quickly.
Angrif’s bodyguard reformed to surround Korik and his men. Cocooned in a double ring of rival guardsmen, the old regent summoned a game smile. “Lead on, saddlechief.”
Rowb led the way through the keep, into the central courtyard, through the decorative gardens, all the way to the far northeast corner, where an old set of brick buildings was nestled against an overgrown vegetable patch. The old windows had been boarded up, and every door but one was securely locked from the outside. His men were already on guard at the entrance. Korik’s carriage had broken three axles in its haste to reach Djaar Bosmer, but Rowb’s spy network had been faster still. He had had ample time to prepare a suitable prison for his Djun’s former guardian.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” Rowb murmured, as he showed Korik into the hastily converted kitchens. “He would have had to come to you eventually. If you’d held at the Citadel, you could have forced him into a siege.” And I could have spirited my family to safely long before the first shots were fired, he added inwardly.
“I’m tired, saddlechief. Show me to my bed. You men,” he gestured to the dozen men of his honor guard. “I want three of you on that door at all times. Another three at the well – there IS a well in here, yes?”
Rowb nodded. “A small waterpump, in what used to be the meat kitchen. The well itself is underneath the outbuilding. The barracks draws from the same source.”
“Well then, at least the boy is somewhat less likely to poison us.”
They left the guardsmen behind in the vestibule, and Rowb led Korik to the converted wine cellar that was now his bedroom. A rough straw mattress was set on a stone slab and piled with threadbare horse blankets.
“Charming. I see Angrif remains as subtle as ever,” Korik sighed. He motioned Rowb closer and whispered: “Why the kitchens?”
“The well. The stones around the water pump are loose. If the time comes, you can escape down the well. I can show you.”
“And will the time come?”
“Can’t say. He’s… changeable.”
Korik huffed with amusement. “Moreso than usual, you mean?”
“He doesn’t trust me as he used to.”
“But he doesn’t suspect…?”
“If he did, I’d be dead already.”
Korik nodded. “I feared this day would come. I thought that with time I could make him understand… but he’s always been a mad dog, hasn’t he? Not a scrap of gratitude for all I’ve done for him. No perspective! Ah well. I was a fool to let him come here. I let him slip the leash once… but now he’s proved to me he needs to be muzzled. Fine. We’ll do it the hard way. How much warning can you give me?”
“A day… perhaps less.”
Korik sighed. “That’ll have to serve. You’ll be rewarded for this, Rowb. There is an estate in Hightown with your name on it.”
“Sire,” Rowb clicked his heels and bowed his head.
Rowb, you fool, he told himself as he left Korik under guard. There’s no way out of this trap. I’m a dead man breathing.
His head was still pounding. The night before he’d gone to a tavern in the seedy merchant quarter, to drink away his worries. He’d drunk away his sense instead, and found himself in the back alley puking his guts out. He might have landed facedown in his own vomit, had not another patron caught his arm and hauled him upright.
“M’thanks…” Rowb mumbled, but the man put his lips to Rowb’s ear and whispered the words he had been dreading.
“The moons have risen round and bright.”
Rowb stared at the man. He wore a hunter’s hood over his head, and it shaded his face from view. But Rowb still felt his piercing gaze. A chill ran down his spine, cutting through the haze of drink.
“N-no clouds will dim their steady light,” Rowb replied, shivering.
“Three days,” the man said. “You know what to do.”
“My family…” Rowb began.
“We’ll get them out too. In three days.”
“Now! Please. Every moment under the Djun’s gaze…”
“Three days,” the man repeated. “High noon. Will you be ready?”
Rowb nodded shakily. “I… I will be.”
“Good hunting, brother.”
Three days, Rowb reflected, returning to the central keep and his impatient master. Now only two. Two more days and it’ll all be over. One way or another.
Two days was an eternity for a man facing death. Or life.
He had to search for Angrif. The boy had taken to his chambers for yet another fitting of armor, this time a full suit of gilded plate. “I beg forgiveness, Dominance,” the armorer was fretting as he measured Angrif’s arm against a gauntlet. “But this heavy a plate… you are still growing to your full strength. Finemail will stand you in a much better stead…”
“Until I’ve fleshed myself out a bit more, eh, Mager?” Angrif scowled at his reflection. “It doesn’t protect like plate. If a sword finds a weak link…”
“Oh, it won’t, sor!”
“Curse my rabbit of a mother for this weasel’s body! Why couldn’t I have taken after the old Djun?”
“Your father, Threk’sht keep him, was a large man,” Mager allowed. “But even he was not born so. Your sword-drills are putting muscle on you. Patience, Dominance. In time–”
“Time! The one thing I can ill afford to waste!” He sighed and waved Mager away. “This will do for now. Ah, Rowb. How is Korik faring?”
“Restless. As expected.”
Angrif studied him in the mirror. “You told him about the well?”
“Yes, Dominance.”
“And he still believes you’re his man?”
“I… I think so.”
The hard eyes narrowed in the mirror’s reflection. “Something’s amiss. I can tell by your sour face.”
Curse my face! Rowb thought fast. “It’s just… he said he has bought one of your men. What if… what if he didn’t mean me? What if he has another agent?”
Angrif whirled on him. “Who? Who do you suspect?”
“I don’t! But… but Korik wouldn’t have ridden here into the maw of the beast if he didn’t have a plan. I… I cannot believe he thinks I am enough of a piece to play!”
Angrif’s mood changed abruptly. The charming smile returned, and he clapped Rowb on the shoulder. “Ah, Rowb. You think yourself too small. Now, when does Korik plan to strike?”
“Soon, Dominance. Perhaps five days. He swore to give me enough notice to prepare.”
“To secrete the sleeping draught into my wine, you mean? And then whisk me home to the Citadel. Tell me, would he ever let me see daylight again?”
What answer does he want to hear? “Perhaps through heavy bars, Dominance.”
Angrif tsked. “Poor old fool. If he’d only minded his place, I might have been content to exile him. But he thought to make me his dog. I think I will feed him to my hounds when we return to the Citadel.”
“And… his allies on the council?”
“There is no council now! There is only the Djun. The others will learn to submit, or they will learn to die.”
“To your orders, Dominance.” Inwardly, Rowb prayed to Threk’sht for mercy. He’s young, this one, but he’s a good teacher. Don’t let me become one of his pupils.
Angrif turned back to his reflection, admiring his new growth of beard. “That’ll do, Rowb. I won’t need you until dinner. Go see to your charming family.”
Rowb fled for safer environs. Angrif had assigned him a comfortable suite of rooms in the very heart of the keep. Under watch, Rowb thought miserably. Liesel couldn’t even take the baby for a walk in the castle gardens without a pair of guardsmen – men Rowb knew by name but was wiser than to trust. Angrif had likely bribed every man to report on his comrades.
He entered his rooms to find Liesel dandling baby Urdinak on her knee, while her brother Alak made faces at the baby, encouraging him to laugh. Rowb felt his heart swell with love.
Lifemate, he thought in the elfin tongue. I’d given up hope of finding one. I’d resigned myself to being alone. It was safest that way. And then I saw you, in that wretched Lowtown wine-sink. That smile… lips made for kissing – Threk’sht, what a fool I made of myself, staring at your mouth all night. But you kept smiling… like you could see straight through me, like you knew me even then. Like you knew everything…
And hard on that thought came another: Oh Threk’sht, just let me keep you safe for two more days. Let me keep all of you safe.
Liesel looked up from the baby. “Rowb!” she said cheerfully. But her brother was quicker to read the mood of the room, and his brow furrowed with worry.
“What’s wrong?” Alak got to his feet and hastened to Rowb’s side. He had freed his dark hair from its ponytail, and it swung in two curtains, framing his pale face. Rowb tangled his fingers in those wavy locks and brought his face in for a passionate kiss.
He heard Liesel’s knowing giggle, but he didn’t care. Alak tensed for a moment, caught by surprise, but then he melted into the embrace, and Rowb took comfort from the firm hands on his shoulders, the heat of the mouth on his.
All too soon the kiss was over. Alak drew back, looking at him warily. “What is it?” he repeated, in a tone that brooked no denials.
He had meant to let them have another day of blissful ignorance, but now that the moment came, he found he couldn’t. He had to share his fears. Another mark of his cowardice. He was a weak, a craven soul at heart.
“I’m getting you out of here,” Rowb said breathlessly. “All of you.”
“We’re not going anywhere –”Alak began, but Rowb jogged him back to Liesel’s side and sat him down next to his sister.
“You can’t stay here. This whole city is a keg of black powder, ready to blow.”
“Because of the Regent?” Liesel guessed.
“Two days,” he told them. “The noon after next. I need you two to go for a walk in the gardens with baby Urdi. Take nothing but the clothes on your backs. Nothing to arouse suspicion. Find a way to meet me behind the vegetable patch by the old kitchens, where we’re holding Korik. Just before noon.”
“Will Esok and Helmunn let us?” Liesel named their ever-present guards.
“Say you want some rampion or something. Say it’s good for nursing mothers – they won’t know any better.”
“What then?” Alak pressed. “Rowb, why do we need to run?” His eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”
But Rowb was in no mood for confessions yet. “What I’ve always done. Served the realm of Djunshold, and tried to keep the three of you breathing.” He reached out for Urdinak, and the baby groped clumsily for his finger.
“When we married, I swore I’d be a father to your child,” he said to Liesel. “See him grow up to be a good man… a better man than I….”
“What drukk is this?” Alak demanded.
“You talk like you’re going to die!” Liesel agreed, her voice rising in pitch.
“Shh,” Rowb warned them. “Not here. I promise… one day soon I’ll tell you everything. But for now, just trust me. Will you do that?”
Alak put a hand on his knee. “Of course we will, you gwit. What kind of question is that?”
Rowb found a weary smile. “Then we’ll say no more until the day after next.”
“All right,” Alak agreed. But a veil was falling over his gaze. Rowb saw distrust clouding those clear blue eyes he had fallen into that night at the tavern.
“And once we’re away from here… once we’re safe – then you tell us everything!” Alak insisted firmly.
“Everything,” Rowb agreed miserably. Will you still love me afterwards? he wondered. Will you still think me fit to claim your nephew for a son?
He told himself it didn’t matter in the end. If Alak hated him, then so be it; it would be a small price to pay for his safety, and Liesel’s and Urdi’s too. That’s the sort of drukk elves would say, he thought. It’s what Shuna would say.
Shuna… it all came back to her. How he hated what she’d made of him.
* * *
The next day rainclouds began to gather on the western horizon, and a cold wind blew down from the mountains. “A demon storm,” one of the Djaarlander priests told Angrif as he and Korik dined uncomfortably together. “Their dark magic sweeps down from the mountains like an autumn flood, but by our prayers Threk’sht the Wrathful will defend us.”
They needed no priests to tell them that – anyone with a passing knowledge of the Plainswaste knew the autumn storms blew hard but achieved little. Thunder crashed overhead like the roar of cannon, and lightning flashed all around the keep. The demon wind rattled the shutters all night , but come the morning the storm had blown itself out. The thunderclouds had broken up, and only a light drizzle greeted the guards as they surveyed the minor damage done to the keep. One lightning strike had left the bell tower scorched, and the heavy wind had snapped a few maple saplings in the gardens. Rowb was more concerned with the lingering clouds. Who would believe that Liesel wanted to go out walking while the air was still so damp and chilly, and puddles filled the garden paths?
At least he had no difficulty slipping away from his duties shortly before noon. “Has anyone checked on Korik?” he asked his men. “No, never mind. I’ll do myself. The last thing we need is the pipes backing up in his cell.”
Ganol laughed. “Young Dominance would like that – old Korik sitting in a mire of shit and filth.”
“And if he catches his death from that filth? You think the Djun would like that? Because whatever end he has planned for Korik, it’s going to be harder than a few nights of belly-rot.”
Ganol looked hesitant. “I dunno. Belly-rot’s pretty hard.”
“Our Djun is harder. And he won’t take kindly to being cheated of his vengeance. You finish your rounds. I’ll catch up with you.”
“To your orders, saddle-chief.”
It was nearly time when he reached the converted kitchens. He saw no sign of his family around the front, but the guards had spotted him, so he forced himself to go up to them and share a quick word.
“I’ll just check the perimeter,” he said casually. “His Dominance likes to know I’ve seen to things myself.”
Around the back of the kitchen, the vegetable patch was flooded and empty. He made a show of bending and inspecting each puddle closely, as if sniffing to check for sewage. A low tremor laced through the earth, like the vibrations of a large cannon discharging. Rowb felt the sweat bead on his brow. “Where are you?” he whispered under his breath. “We’re running out of time.”
Another tremor, gentler than the first, but enough to make the water shiver in the puddles. Then, to his relief, Rowb heard approaching voices, and he made a show of slowly straightening and looking towards the source.
“–course they are still growing this time of year,” Liesel was telling one of the guards. “Harvest season isn’t half-over yet.”
“–don’t see why you all had to come…” Helmunn grumbled, glaring at Alak.
“If you spent all your time locked in a nursery, you’d understand,” Alak retorted.
“Halllooo,” Rowb said with a jaunty wave. “What are you all about in this wretched weather?” As they neared, he pretended to notice baby Urdi for the first time, snugly bound to his mother’s breast in a sling. “By the Doom-pit, woman! It’s too damp for the baby to be out!”
“But…” Liesel’s face began to fall, and she looked down at the mud underfoot. “I… I only thought he’d like the fresh air…”
Helmunn chuckled. “I told her, saddle-chief! Shall I take her back?”
Alak picked up on his intended part quickly. “Oh, leave her, Rowb. The baby’s bundled up nice and warm, and the maid needed to air out our room anyway. I told Liesel we could use some more blooming snakeroot – you always say the rains brings out the biting bugs.”
Rowb sighed. “Well I suppose, since you’re here. No reason for you to be tramping through puddles, Helmunn. I’ll see them all back – I’m nearly finished my rounds.”
Helmunn hesitated. “My orders come from the Djun…”
“To guard my family. Do you think they need protection from me?”
“Suppose not, saddle-chief. To your orders.” He saluted and turned away. Rowb slipped a protective arm around Liesel and drew her in close.
“You’re doing well,” he whispered. “Come on.”
They hastened across the garden, pausing at a stand of wildflowers long enough for Liesel to pick a half dozen blooms. If the guard looked back, he would see exactly what he expected. “That’s enough,” Rowb muttered, when Helmunn had disappeared from sight.
The back door to the kitchen was barred and locked, but Rowb had all the keys. He had rehearsed this in his mind for days, yet now he fumbled to select the right key from the iron ring. “Keep him still,” he urged, as Urdinak began to stir inside his sling. Liesel unbuttoned her dress collar and let the baby nurse, and Urdi soon fell quiet again.
The key wouldn’t turn in the lock. At first, he feared he had the wrong one, but on the second attempt the grooves caught and the lock sprang open. He handed the lock to Alak and gently eased the bar free from its brace. “Stay back,” he whispered, then shoved on the door. It swung inward, nearly striking one of Korik’s men on guard.
“Is that how you guard the Lord Regent?” he barked at the downy-lipped boy. “Thank Threk’sht I’m no assassin. Oh, put that blade down, Atvirr! Go fetch Lord Korik. Tell him it’s time.”
In what had to be divinely inspired timing, a third tremor stirred the ground underfoot. The boy looked at his feet, then back at Korik. “Is it demons?” he asked.
“It’s cannon! I haven’t time for this! Now, boy!”
Atvirr turned and ran. Rowb motioned Alak and Liesel inside.
They reached the old well pump before Korik did. The Regent scowled to see Liesel and Alak. “Who–” he began.
“There’s no time, sor. It’s gone bad. It’s gone very bad. We have to go now!” Rowb did not waste time on further explanation, but began to dislodge the flagstones around the water pump. “Help me, Alak!”
Alak joined him. After a moment’s hesitation, so did Korik. They used their hands and sticks of kindling from the fireplace, until they had pried up five large flat stones, exposing a deep hole running parallel to the lead piping. It descended into darkness.
A fourth tremor. “What is that?!” Korik demanded.
“The pup’s firing on your camp,” Rowb said. “Got it into his head that there are demons among your men – or that’s what he’s saying. He’s mad as a dog with foaming-sickness. We have to go! We can follow the pipe out to the storm drain and outside the walls – the rains will have flushed it clear.” He gestured to the hole in the floor. “Here.”
“Are you mad, Rowb?” Alak charged.
“Weapons?” Korik demanded.
Rowb drew his own short sword and handed it to the Regent. Korik took it and began to climb down into the tunnel. He was a stout man in his old age, and he grunted and puffed as he squeezed himself down. But his legs went, then his chest, and soon his white head disappeared. Rowb pushed Alak towards the hole.
“We’re not going down that burrow!” Alak protested.
Rowb looked at him imploringly. “Trust me. Lifemate, please.”
He said the word in the elfin tongue. Alak didn’t know the its meaning, but he knew Rowb did not use it lightly. He looked at Liesel, and she nodded shakily. “Anything to get out of here,” she said.
Alak lowered himself into the hole. “How far down?”
“Not far before it will open up.” Rowb was already helping Liesel into position. He folded her hands over Urdinak’s head. “Just think of it like climbing a ladder with your hands full. Plant your feet on one wall and your arse on the other and wriggle on down. Don’t worry – Alak won’t look up your skirt.”
The baby was crying again. Liesel cooed softly to him as she sat down and swung her legs into the hole. “Alak? Can you see the bottom?”
The answer came promptly. “Already there. He’s right, it opens right up. Hurry down. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”
Liesel disappeared into the hole. Rowb was last down, as a fifth tremor made the pried-up flagstones clatter together. Too close, he thought. We’re cutting it too close.
He did as he’d instructed his wife, and wormed his way down like a caterpillar. When he could feel nothing but air below his feet he let himself drop to the floor below. They were in a small chamber, perhaps ten feet wide and low enough that even Liesel had to bend over to keep from hitting her head. The air was close and rank with the smell of mold. The light coming down from the tunnel barely illuminated the edges of the chamber.
“Where do we go?” Korik demanded. “I can’t see.”
“That way. Feel your way until you touch stone.”
Alak stomped on the dirt floor. “Sounds almost hollow…”
Korik shuffled and grunted. “I can’t feel anything but dirt. Curse it, Rowb, where–”
And then the floor dropped out from underneath them.
The sixth tremor was the largest, a great shattering of rock with a thunderclap that drowned out their screams. The ground underfoot was gone, replaced by crumbling dirt. They fell…
And collapsed on a mound of sand less than a heartbeat later. Rowb held up his hands to shield his head as rubble rained down around them. It was mostly clumps of dirt, but there were some stones and splinters of wood from the false floorboards and scaffolding. When the fall of debris eased, Rowb scrambled to his feet.
Torchlight greeted him. And grinning shadows.
The second chamber was far larger than the first, with solid rock beyond the sand pile. Rowb was able to stand easily – although the spears that suddenly appeared before him gave him a moment’s pause.
He raised his hands. “Zuetariko bat naiz,” he cried out in Trade.
“Korik?” the closest troll demanded.
“Hori da.” He pointed to the Regent. But other band of trolls were already hauling him to his feet. He kicked and swore as they wrestled a bag over his head and bound his hands together.
“Ez ukitu besteei,” Rowb pleaded, indicating the others. “Nire famillia dira.”
Baby Urdinak was howling in fear and discomfort, and Liesel’s screams when she saw the trolls nearly matched his. Alak rushed over the sand to throw himself between his sister and the spears.
“It’s all right!” Rowb urged. He motioned his family behind him. “We’re safe! It’s over!” He cast one last look up at the shaft of light coming from the collapsed kitchens, and a sharp, high laugh burst out of him. We’re safe!
“Yes, it’s over, old friend,” said a voice in Djunnish.
A new shadow, twice as tall as the trolls’, wavered just out of the bounds of the torchlight. With Alak, Liesel and the crying baby safely behind him, Rowb inched out onto the flagstones, towards the waiting figure.
Shuna stepped out into the light. Her smile was tender as she extended a hand.
He had spent years waiting for this moment, first rehearsing the perfect quip, then later dreaming of answering with a good hard punch. But instead he found himself stretching out a trembling hand. Shuna pulled him for an embrace, and within moments he was weeping with relief as he clung to her broad shoulders.
“Shh. Welcome home, Rowb,” Shuna soothed like a mother. “We’re all so proud of you.”
Elfquest copyright 2019 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2019 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2019 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts.