The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (36 page)

“Welcome,” the dwarf said in a surprisingly soft voice. “My name is Lidbank. I am the protector of the Silver Dwarf’s armour.” He paused, and gave each of
them an appraising and almost curious look, with Krobeg receiving the most attention.

“How were you able to enter?” Lidbank asked.

“There’s a door,” Ben said, pointing behind him.

“The door would not let you in.”

Ben frowned. “It did. That is how we got in.”

Lidbank gave his head a soft shake. “I am sorry, that is not possible.”

“How did we get in, then?” Natalie asked.

“I do not know,” Lidbank said. “That is why we are having this conversation and you are not already dead. I am curious.”

Ben resisted the urge to touch his spellshooter. This might be the one chance they had to talk. There was no point in holding back now; they were so close.

“Look, that’s how we got in. Krobeg opened the door. I don’t know how, but it might have something to do with the fact that he is the Silver Dwarf’s
grandson. We have come to collect the breastplate, which rightfully belongs to him.”

Lidbank gave Krobeg another searching look and, for a moment, he thought the arcane dwarf was considering the possibility that Ben might be telling the
truth. But decades, perhaps even centuries, of waiting for the Silver Dwarf seemed to kick in, and Lidbank’s face clouded.

“The breastplate belongs to the Silver Dwarf,” Lidbank said, sounding strangely robotic. “We wait for his return.”

Ben clenched his fists, and worked hard to keep his cool. “The Silver Dwarf departed a long time ago. This is his grandson, who by blood right inherits the
breastplate.”

To Ben’s surprise, his words impinged, if only a fraction, and only for a moment, before Lidbank shook his head again, almost sadly. Ben cursed inwardly.
It didn’t help that Krobeg looked nothing like the Silver Dwarf, with his ginger hair and his barrel-like belly.

“Only the Silver Dwarf may claim his armour,” Lidbank said with an almost sad finality. “This is your last warning. Leave now or don’t leave at all.”

The arcane dwarves raised their weapons as one, with frightening synchronicity.

Ben cursed. It was obvious these dwarves were stuck with a rigid belief in their prophesy. How long had they been guarding the armour for? Hundreds of
years most likely. One quick conversation wasn’t going to change their minds, after centuries of believing they were waiting for the Silver Dwarf.

That left two options: run or fight. He took one glance behind the dwarves, to the armour beyond, and knew the answer.

“Spread out,” Ben said softly. “One shot, then arm yourselves. Don’t shoot until they attack.”

Ben expected Charlie, and possibly even Natalie, to protest, but they sidestepped silently to the right, while Krobeg went left. His hands suddenly felt
sweaty, and he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his blood, fuelling his body with energy.

The arcane dwarves held their weapons well, but they looked old, even for dwarves, and Ben couldn’t imagine they could leap into action swiftly.

He was wrong.

There was no chorus of attack, just a sudden movement that caught Ben by surprise. They came forwards as one, with a speed Ben couldn’t have believed
possible at such an age.

Ben fired a dual-stunning spell, and a single pellet split in two, going for the two dwarves coming at him. They lifted a hand, and Ben watched in
amazement as the spells swerved out of harm’s way.

Magic. Of course, the arcane dwarves were capable of magic. He cursed inwardly for not expecting such a move.

Ben aimed a spell into his palm, and fired. A sword, tinted red, formed into his hand. Immediately, he felt the room slow, as the magic imbued in the sword
enhanced his reflexes and reaction time. He was vaguely aware of Charlie and Natalie forming their own weapons and meeting their opponents with a clash. On
his other side, he heard Krobeg give a wild cry and launch into battle. But any further attention to his friends was cut off, as Lidbank and the other
dwarf cut at him. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Ben only just fended off the attacks. He aimed a quick riposte and caught the nameless dwarf just below
the collarbone, and he cried out and went down. In response, Lidbank spun his sword and launched a flurry of cuts and thrusts, which had Ben backpedalling
like mad. He was afraid he would hit the back wall, until he finally spotted an opening, and managed to launch a counter attack, halting his retreat.
Summoning every ounce of strength and speed, he slowly pushed the dwarf back. They clashed swords and held their positions, leaning into each other. Ben
looked into Lidbank’s eyes – there was no fear there, but Ben could see sweat running down the dwarf’s face. Yet, despite the exertion, the dwarf gave a
hint of a smile and, with incredible strength, pushed Ben back.

“You are worthy,” Lidbank said with a respectful nod. “I will take no pleasure in killing you.”

“Nor I you,” Ben said, returning the smile.

Ben used the brief break to steal a glance left and right. Krobeg had downed one dwarf, and was deep in combat with another. He could fight. Really fight.
Despite everything, Ben couldn’t help but be surprised. He turned the other way and saw Charlie and Natalie had also taken down one dwarf, but were
struggling against the other. Charlie was bleeding, and Natalie looked dazed. But any chance of help was cut off when Ben saw a sword coming for his face.
Ben brought his own sword up, and the battle resumed.

It seemed like an eternity of attacking and blocking, cutting and thrusting, but Ben was dimly aware that they had been fighting only minutes. A couple of
times, Ben breached Lidbank’s defences, but the arcane dwarf would throw up a magical shield or disappear for a split second. It became increasingly
obvious that, with Lidbank’s magic, they were evenly matched, and it would come down to a question of stamina.

Another cry came from his right, and Ben risked another glance. Natalie was down, clutching her head.

Ben cursed, and tried to make a move towards her, but Lidbank cut him off. Panic started to creep in. Charlie wouldn’t survive long by himself. He had to
do something, yet he was breathing hard, and had no energy left to launch a surprise attack.

“Krobeg!” he shouted.

“Busy,” Krobeg grunted, momentarily throwing his opponent back.

Ben wiped his brow, surprised to find a mixture of sweat and blood on his hand. His sword felt heavy, but he summoned the last vestiges of his energy,
awaiting the dwarf’s next attack.

It never happened. The dwarf raised a clenched fist.

“Enough!” he said in a commanding voice. Immediately, the two remaining dwarves stepped back. Charlie was just about still standing. Krobeg looked better
off, but his massive stomach was heaving with exertion.

“There has been enough bloodshed,” Lidbank said. “You have fought well, and because of that, I offer you one last chance. Your lives are not worth
wasting. If you leave now, I can offer you safe passage home. That I promise you.”

Ben admired Lidbank’s integrity, and used the much needed break to gather his breath, and think. He desperately wanted to accept the dwarf’s offer.

“We need the breastplate,” Ben said, leaning on his sword. “We cannot leave without it.”

“That is the one thing you cannot have,” Lidbank said, almost sadly. “We have spent decades protecting it, waiting for the Silver Dwarf.”

As exhausted as Ben was, he could tell the three remaining dwarves were hardly better off, on top of which, they were old, far older than he. Charlie could
barely stand, but Krobeg looked in decent nick. Could he and Krobeg finish the three remaining dwarves? One look at the over-sized chef, twirling his axe,
and Ben could tell Krobeg was thinking the same thing.

“That won’t happen, I’m afraid,” Lidbank said, as if reading Ben’s thoughts.

Ben immediately spotted movement by the back statues, next to the pedestal holding the armour. Six more fully armoured arcane dwarves slipped out from
behind the statues, and lined up behind Lidbank.

“Oh, darn,” Ben said.

Any lingering thoughts about how they could grab the breastplate vanished. Ben’s shoulders slumped, as he stared at the six fresh arcane dwarves. He
focused on his spellshooter, but knew without looking he had no spell big enough to distract everyone long enough to pinch the armour. Even then, how would
they escape?

Charlie, who had dragged a semi-conscious Natalie over to the side and out the way, stumbled over to his side.

“What now?” Charlie said, his voice almost delirious with exhaustion. “Personally, I’m rather tired. Not sure I can go on much longer.”

“I could take out a few of them,” Krobeg said. “Maybe you could make a dash for the armour?”

Ben glanced at Krobeg, and couldn’t help smiling. “I can’t believe you’re saying that.”

Krobeg shrugged. “We’ve come this far; I don’t want to fail now.”

Ben thought about Krobeg’s idea, but was forced to discard it. It was too risky, even for him. They’d never make it out alive. There was only one way they
could get out now, and that was without the breastplate.

“Lower your weapons,” Ben said with a heavy heart.

Ben was just about to extinguish his sword, when another movement caught his eye. At first, it looked like a flicker of light; then a shadow caught his
eye.

Three of the arcane dwarves suddenly screamed, as their helms were ripped off, and their throats cut. They fell to the floor, in a pool of blood.

Standing over them, barely visible even in the open, were three Shadowseekers. The sight of them was unmistakable: bald heads, gold piercings everywhere,
and black cloaks that seemed to reflect light.

“Back!” Lidbank commanded.

The new arcane dwarves spun, and quickly backpedalled, but not before another one suffered a lightning quick thrust into the stomach, and went down. The
remaining two arcane dwarves lined up beside the surviving three. Ben, Charlie and Krobeg joined them.

The three Shadowseekers advanced, sword drawn in one hand, purple ball of energy in the other. Ben stepped forwards, his own spellshooter drawn, and fired,
just as the Shadowseekers did the same. Two of the purple balls were absorbed by Ben’s white spinning disc, but one made it past. Ben dived towards it, and
his natural dark elf defence deflected the purple ball away, sending it crashing harmlessly into the wall.

The instant Ben picked himself up, the Shadowseekers were upon them. The arcane dwarves were excellent fighters, but they were old, and three of them were
already tired. The Shadowseekers were ruthless, and inhumanly fast. It was only the dwarf magic that kept them alive, magically deflecting or avoiding the
Shadowseekers’ blades.

Ben, along with Krobeg and Lidbank, stepped in, and the battle began again. From the corner of his eye, Ben was pleased to see Charlie step back, and
attempt to pepper the Shadowseekers with spells.

Ben and Krobeg fought as a team against a Shadowseeker; somehow the dwarf managed to wield his battle axe with such dexterity that he was able to hold his
own, while Ben sought the killer blow. He launched a quick stab to the chest, and pierced the elf right between the shoulder blades. The Shadowseeker went
down, but not before swinging a return cut deep into Ben’s shoulder. Ben cried out, but before the Shadowseeker could bury the sword further, Krobeg ended
his life.

Ben’s shoulder was in such agony he was forced to extinguish his sword, so he could clasp his hand on the injury to try to dull the pain.

There were just two Shadowseekers left, but, to Ben’s despair, only three dwarves were still standing, including Lidbank. Krobeg stepped in to help, but
Ben saw blood spilling from numerous cuts, slowing him down. Ben wanted to move, but the pain was so excruciating that his head started to spin. Beneath
the pain, he was vaguely aware that their situation was desperate, and unless he did something now, they would be cut down.

It was Krobeg who acted. With a roar of defiance, he managed to barge past one of the Shadowseekers, and all of a sudden, he was sprinting towards the back
of the shrine, towards the breastplate.

The Shadowseekers immediately turned and gave chase. Krobeg was quick, and he had the advantage of surprise, but he was no match for the Shadowseekers. Ben
somehow managed to raise his spellshooter, and started firing, calling forth whatever spell he could latch on to. By some miracle, one of his spells hit
the trailing Shadowseeker on the leg, tripping him up. Lidbank was on him before he could recover, and finished him off. Ben focused his spellshooter on
the remaining Shadowseeker chasing Krobeg, but he knew he was too late.

Time seemed to slow, as Ben watched Krobeg reach the mannequin, and pull the breastplate off. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his body. The
breastplate had only just slipped over Krobeg’s stomach, when the Shadowseeker’s sword clattered into it, snapping in half on contact. The armour, just
like the helm and the boots, moulded perfectly onto its Guardian’s body, and Krobeg went from a chef to something far more deadly in a matter of seconds.

Krobeg’s eyes expanded, even as the armour did the same, and a sense of wonderment, of realisation, filled Krobeg’s face, looking about the shrine as if he
was seeing it for the first time.

The Shadowseeker, seeing Krobeg’s distraction, pulled a knife from his cloak and leapt a full twenty feet, aiming for Krobeg’s face. Ben screamed, and
launched a series of spells in desperation, but Krobeg appeared not to notice, and was staring at the ceiling as the Shadowseeker’s deadly knife sailed
towards his face in a blur.

An arm extended, almost casually, blocking the knife and slamming into the Shadowseeker’s face in one smooth, effortless motion. It took Krobeg a moment to
realise what he’d done, looking down upon the motionless Shadowseeker.

There was a stunned silence. In a flash, the Shadowseekers were down, Krobeg wore the armour, and all eyes were on the chef. It took Ben a moment to
realise why. His beard was no longer ginger. It had turned silver.