Chapter 38

Though affecting an air of indifference, Darras carefully studied the Dwarves surrounding him as he walked in the midst of them to the largest building in the centre of the city. The Dwarves themselves were silent and any guidance was simply given by the indication of a pointing hand. Though the building was a palace, it certainly didn’t look like one, though Darras figured it to be a very effective last redoubt.

Once at the highly reinforced main gate, they were admitted by a single armoured guard stationed there and Darras was escorted through the building to a central chamber where a thin Dwarf sat upon a heavily built throne.

“We have the man you requested us bring to you, King Dhromil,” one of the Dwarves announced.

“So I see,” Dhromil replied in a very strangely accented tone. “You may leave us.”

‘Careful, something is not right here, ’ Erren warned.

“Definitely not a shadow,” Darras subvocalised.

“Approach, Human,” Dhromil ordered, once the Dwarves had left.

Darras did so, noting that Dhromil’s eyes were jet black, yet not feeling any sense of danger from him.

‘Possessed, though not by a shadow, ’ Erren confirmed.

“Reports have reached me of a fire in the old warehouse district, along with a number of very confused Dwarves and Humans,” Dhromil began. “You were seen entering the area before the blaze and leaving afterwards. Care to tell me why I shouldn’t have you arrested for arson?”

“Care to tell me who or what possesses you and we’ll trade confessions,” Darras answered bluntly.

“Intriguing. Are you a magic user?” Dhromil asked, ignoring Darras’s answer.

“No. Now care to trade?”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

“A thin Dwarf with jet black eyes.”

“Ah, you see my homunculus.”

“You aren’t answering my questions.”

“No, I’m not, am I?”

“Then this audience is over,” Darras shrugged and turned as if to leave.

“Wait! I am Dhromil, only this body isn’t.”

“A magic using King,” Darras replied thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

“I’m assuming you killed Khavvil and the magic user, Dorance?”

“Only because they were planning to kill those the magic user had enthralled,” Darras shrugged.

“Khavvil was a friend of mine!”

“He was planning murder and was involved in theft. You should have chosen a better friend,” Darras replied indifferently.

“Theft?”

“You know of the guild disputes and the tension with stolen orders from the Dwarven legion making its way to Thenarron?”

“Yes. I was investigating it.”

“It wasn’t about the orders, or the guild disputes over internal theft. It was the stealing of paper, bleaching it and selling it on,” Darras explained.

“I see, though this does not excuse your brand of justice,” Dhromil replied, seemingly indifferently, though Darras was picking up signs of rising tension.

“I do Gilmea’s work,” Darras shrugged.

“Gilmea, the ‘do gooding’ goddess?” Dhromil snorted.

“Careful, King of Halgard. Bad things happen to those who openly insult her.”

“Hah! What kind of bad things?” Dhromil scoffed.

“Me,” Darras replied coldly.

“Make a move and you’re dead,” Dhromil replied.

“Not before I kill you, King Dhromil,” Darras replied. “Now, what is your part in this?”

“You would threaten me?”

“Yes. You threatened me, after all.”

“Assuming you could, why would I answer your questions? I did summon you, after all.”

“The question was mine, Dhromil!” Erren’s voice came from Darras’s throat. “Now answer it or believe me your Kingdom will come to regret turning its back on me!”

“So, your possessor finally shows her colours,” Dhromil replied indifferently.

“She doesn’t possess me,” Darras chuckled. “But that’s not getting answers and I’m getting a little restless.”

“Let’s play her game then and trade answers,” Dhromil answered after a long pause.

“Very well, what is it you’re after?”

“To be uncursed.”

“Sorry, what?” Darras asked, feeling confused.

“Why do you think I use a homunculus or had dealings with a man associated with enthralling slave workers?”

“So see a priest.”

“You think I haven’t?”

“OK, what kind of curse?”

“Follow me, I’ll show you.”

Dhromil led Darras through a door behind a curtain and along a corridor into what was obviously the family area of the palace. As they progressed, a certain smell caught Darras’s nose, the smell of decay.

“Here’s the real me,” Dhromil indicated a door. “It’s not pretty.”

The Dwarf lying on the bed in the room looked awful, his limbs were withered, a distinct smell of gangrene emanated, yet the eyes blazed with intelligence.

“This is a curse?” Darras asked.

“It is. Though by whom and why, I do not know, nor does any priest summoned. Nor can their gods help either.”

“Your magic keeps you alive?”

“It does, but it’s a battle I’m slowly losing, hence my ever desperate quest to find a cure by any means possible.”

‘He’s cursed alright, ’ Erren informed Darras.

“Yes, it’s a curse, just need to figure out its user,” Darras informed Dhromil.

‘My brother, the Dark Lord, ’ Erren replied. ‘Removing it will not be easy, especially as Dhromil ... the original one can’t be moved.’

Darras explained to Dhromil what Erren’s conclusion was, getting a frown from the homunculus. “So it is curable?” was his eventual question.

“Yes. A priest of Gilmea, high in her estimation, could do it,” Darras replied.

“Ah...”

“You cast them out to worship Darmela, didn’t you?” Darras asked.

“We did.”

“Foolish of you,” Darras noted.

“They insisted. It was the only way to get her blessing of prosperity for our merchants.”

“So, what did you do to get cursed by the Dark Lord?”

“I do not know. As far as I’m aware I’ve had no dealings with him,” Dhromil answered, looking at his real body in despair.

“Erren ... or Gilmea as you call her, can get a priest to you to uncurse the body, but the price will be casting out the priests of Darmela,” Darras informed them. “Trust me, there is no love lost between the two, at least until Darmela apologises and makes amends for what happened in Fordel.”

“Ah yes, Fordel. We Dwarves refused to kill Gilmea’s priests as they demanded.”

“Likely where the curse came from. Darmela and the Dark Lord are allied.”

“That was never mentioned ... ever,” Dhromil almost snarled.

“Well, they’re hardly going to mention it now, are they?”

“How soon before this priest gets here?”

“Gemoldus of Sorrak has had a vision and is coming here,” Darras repeated what Erren had informed him.

“And the price?”

“The worship of Darmela must cease,” Darras replied. “Full support of the war in Thenarron will be required.”

“We don’t have an army,” Dhromil pointed out.

“You can supply one at cost, aid returned wounded, other various means,” Darras informed him.

“And atone for my crimes, no doubt?”

“That’s between you, your conscience and the priests,” Darras shrugged.

“I can tell you what my agents have learned with regards to the instructions Darmela’s priests have been given in regards to this war that is planned,” Dhromil offered.

“Go on.”

“Khavvil was passing on to the priests information about troop dispositions as discussed between the general staffs of the military forces assembling in Rossaris, though what they were doing with it did not interest me.”

“I suspected as much,” Darras sighed. “Looks like the dispositions may have to be rewritten to avoid excessive casualties.”

“Undoubtedly,” Dhromil agreed. “I will also hand over a list that I acquired of their contacts in various Kingdoms.”

“That may be a big help in rooting out nests of spies,” Darras acknowledged.

“When I am uncursed, it will be yours,” Dhromil replied, leading Darras back to the throne room. “Forgive my cautious nature.”

“I’d be the same,” Darras shrugged with a slight smile.

“This Gemoldus will be travelling from the Dobra gateway and even if he sets out immediately, will not arrive for several days,” Dhromil informed Darras. “Please be my guest until he does.”

‘You might as well, ’ Erren sighed. ‘I doubt he’ll permit you to leave until he is uncursed.’

“Very well,” Darras replied to Dhromil.

A Dwarf escorted Darras to a room that appeared to have been designed for a Human. As with everything else in the palace, there was a complete lack of adornment and the room was just that, a room. Darras did find his pack as well as his staff already there as the Dwarf headed away without a word.

“So, I’m under house arrest, at least until Gemoldus gets here?” Darras chuckled.

‘Yes, though it could be worse, ’ Erren replied.

“Bed’s comfortable enough,” Darras noted.

‘Just be careful, Dhromil’s palace will have its spies and some of them will be from the Temple of Darmela.’

“True enough, though there does not seem to be many Dwarves about.”

‘That will be Dhromil keeping his secret most likely, ’ Erren replied thoughtfully.