Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series (15 page)

Belgil seemed to swell as he took a deep breath. “I would do as my King has ordered me. This person,” he motioned at Flare, “is under the protection of the king. If you wish to beat the King’s guest, then I suggest you get his permission first.”

The two guards looked from the Councilor to Flare’s protector. Their expressions were a bit fearful. Flare suspected they were not afraid of a fight, but more the confrontation of these two particular dwarves.

The smile never left Emlin’s face and
he and Belgil
stood there staring at each other for several moments. Finally, Emlin nodded. “
If I need the King’s permission, then that is what I shall get
,” he said finally. He started towards the door and then stopped, looking back at Flare. “I cannot thank you enough for bringing Ossendar to us. I suggest you enjoy the time you have left. I believe you
will find that your time grows short
.” As his smile widened, he turned and left the room, followed closely by the two guards.

Opening his mouth to thank Belgil, Flare never got the words out.

The dwarf turned angrily towards Flare, and he seemed to be gritting his teeth. “Are you insane? You just nearly got yourself killed and that’s exactly what Emlin wants.”

Somewhat taken aback by the heat in Belgil’s tone, Flare didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked, rather unsteadily, back to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and stopped himself from sighing. “You can not be angry with me for not knowing Dwarven politics. I have never heard of this Emlin before and I didn’t even know the name of your king. Do not say that I’m
insane;
instead say that I am uninformed.”

Belgil’s anger lessened some and he sat down in the small chair. “Emlin is King Vognar’s most trusted councilor and he is trouble. He wanted me to cut your throat when we carried you in the mountain.”

The words sent a shiver down Flare’s spine and he nodded his head at Belgil. “Then you have my thanks, although, I’ve never heard of the dwarves dealing with strangers in such a manner.”

Grumbling, Belgil nodded his head. “You’re correct. For two millennia, no outsiders have been let into the city, but
neither
have
we
killed in cold blood.” He shook his head
, “I refused Emlin’s order and m
y soldiers and his nearly fought. If the city guard had not
interceded
then dwarven blood would have been spilt that day. Luckily for you, the King sided with me. Actually, you don’t know how lucky you really are. I do not remember the last time King Vognar sided with anyone other than Emlin. Probably had something to do with what Emlin wanted us to do. Like I said, we do not kill in cold blood.”

Flare smiled. “I’m guessing that Emlin now wants me executed for trespassing or some such.”

“No. He wants you executed for stealing Ossendar.”

“Stealing Ossendar?” Flare repeated confused. “And who does he think I stole it from? If anyone
is
stealing Ossendar, it would be the dwarves.”

Belgil nodded and actuall
y chuckled. It sounded unusual
coming from the small squat dwarf. “Needless to say, Emlin is short on specifics of your `crime`.”

Thinking hard, Flare tried to find a way out of his current predicament. Only one thing occurred to him. “So will I get to meet the king?”

Shrugging, Belgil said, “I do not know. I can assure you that Emlin will advise against meeting you.” The dwarf leaned in close, “I suggest you watch yourself. He would like nothing more than to catch you doing something stupid.”

“Doing something stupid,” Flare repeated dully. “Just how long do you expect for me to have to wait?”

Belgil smiled, “W
hy? You in a hurry?”

Flare ground his teeth together and tried not to get angry. “I have very important things, very urgent things that need my attention.”

Belgil held up his hands to cut Flare off. “It does not matter. If you get to meet the king then it will be when he says and not before.”
Silence descended between the two while Flare continued to stare daggers at the dwarf. Finally, Belgil pointed to the tray the servant had set down on the floor. “That soup is getting cold. I suggest you eat it soon.”

Flare felt like throwing the soup across the room but decided against it. For one thing, throwing the food would be rather like a child pitching a fit. For another, he suddenly found himself ravenous. He bent over and picked up the tray. The smell coming from the bowl made his stomach growl. He picked up the piece of bread and realized it was as hard as a rock. Breaking off a piece, he began dipping the bread in the lukewarm soup.

“Good,” Belgil said from where he was watching Flare. “You’ve been sick, so you need to eat.” He stood up and took a step towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Flare asked between bites of soppy bread.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” answered Belgil. “If you want more food or need anything else, just knock on the door. A servant will bring something for you.” He took several more steps toward the door and then stopped, turning around to look
back at Flare. “One more thing, g
uards are posted at both ends of this hallway. I suggest you not try anything stupid. Any escape attempt will fail and you will only get hurt. Not to mention that you will be aiding Emlin in
his
denouncing of you.”

Flare didn’t even bother to answer, instead he just waved his hand and took another bite of bread.

Chapter
13

Flare spent the next several days in the small cramped room. Several times a day meals w
ere brought to him
and he could just catch a glimpse of the hallway outside his
tiny
room. It was dark and looked deserted. He had no doubts that Belgil had told him the truth about the guards posted at either end of the hall. If he managed to get out of his room, he wouldn’t make it far before being stopped.

That first day when he awoke, he had been unable to use sorcery. Whether it was due to his exhaustion, lack of food, or even his previous overuse of sorcery, he didn’t know or care. By the second day, he could once again take control of his spirit and although sorcery was tiring, he was getting stronger. Another couple of days and he might just try that escape attempt. The dwarves didn’t know he could use sorcery and that was his best possibility to get out. Although getting out of the room and then the hall
was
a start, he would still have to get out of the
underground
city. The problem was that he had no idea which way to go. He could wander in the halls for days and still never find his way to the outside. In truth, once he got out of this room, he probably would have several hours at most before the city guard began searching for him. Once that happened, it was all over.

The meals being brought to him were changing as well. The first meal had been soup and bread, but the meals quickly increased in both quantity and variety. There
were
very little fruits and vegetables, but there was aplenty of everything else. Whether breads, cheeses, or meats, he practically inhaled them all.

Flare was sitting on the bed, as the chair was too small for him, when the door opened. He looked up surprised. It was too soon for another meal. Belgil entered and closed the door behind him.

“Morning,” the dwarf said, looking Flare up and down.

“Good morning,” Flare replied, a little surprised. He wasn’t surprised to see Belgil, the dwarf stopped by several times a day. But he was surprised to find out what time of day it was. In an underground city there wasn’t any way of knowing what time it was.

Belgil had made a point to stop by several times a day and spend a few minutes with Flare. The dwarf seemed genuinely concerned and it was nice for Flare to see someone he knew. The servants wouldn’t even look at him, much less speak.

Unlike his previous visits, Belgil did not have a seat in the small chair. Instead he remained standing near the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh, fine. Thank you,” Flare answered, wondering what was happening.

Belgil nodded and motioned backwards at the door. “Feel good enough to go for a walk?”

Flare was on his feet before Belgil had even finished his sentence. “Gods yes!” Suddenly worried about where he might be headed, Flare asked, “Where are we going?”

“Not far,” Belgil answered. He pulled his right hand out from behind his back and held up some of Flare’s clothes from his pack. “You’ve been in here for days and you’re starting to get a little ripe.”

“A bath?” Flare asked, excitedly.

Grinning at Flare’s enthusiasm, Belgil nodded.

Belgil led Flare from the room and into the small nearly empty hallway beyond. The hallway had only the one doorway off of it, and other passages intersected the hallway about ten yards from Flare’s door. Two torches flickered in holders on the wall. The puny light of the torches caused massive shadows to dance across the walls. It was eerily silent.

Exiting Flare’s door, they turned to the left and walked the short distance to the next passage. It too was dark, but not quite so empty. A heavily muscled and well armed guard watched Flare and Belgil pass. The guard nodded his head at Belgil’s passing.

The guard’s acknowledgment reminded Flare of something else the dwarf had said. “Belgil, what is your position?”

Still walking down the dark hallway, Belgil blinked up at Flare in confusion. “What?”

“Your position or rank. What’s your status amongst the dwarves?”

Tilting his head slightly, Belgil asked, “Now why would you ask that?”

Flare nodded back at the guard they had just passed. “He treated you with some deference, plus you mentioned that you led the group that found me floating in the river.”

Belgil did not answer immediately and they walked for several moments in silence. “
I am a distant relative of the king.”

“How distant?”

Belgil smiled. “Very, although I also have the rank of Captain in the Dwarven army.”

“That explains a lot,” Flare murmured. He was somewhat distracted by the empty hallway they were following. It was less than impressive. “I always thought that the dwarven cities were magnificent.”

Belgil glanced up at him, “And?”

Flare waved his hand around at the empty hallway. “Not very impressive.”

Belgil roared with laughter. “This? You think this is the city?”

Shrugging, Flare asked, “If it’s not the city, then what is it?”

“Az’ha’rill’hadell has been in this very place for thousands of years. Over time my ancestors have moved outward away from the city. They explored, mined, and built as they went. Once the minerals from an area are depleted, we tend to abandon that section. This place has been unused for thousands of years. Unused except for housing guests.”

The words didn’t sound right. “Housing guests?” Flare repeated. “Like a prison?”

Belgil shrugged, “Perhaps it was not always so, but that is what this location is now. Although you’re the only guest currently.”

As Belgil finished speaking, they entered a large room.
The floor and walls were well worn stone and a single table and bench were the only furnishings. There were two other doors besides the one they came through. The other two doors were closed. There were
ten enormous stone tubs, or pools, built into the floor. Steam rose from the water. This room, unlike the hallways, was well lit and it was several moments before Flare noticed the source. A circular ring in the ceiling glowed brightly. The ring was obviously magical. He glanced at Belgil, “Dwarven magic?”

“Surprised?”

If he told the truth, he was surprised. Choosing not to answer, he moved over to the nearest pool. He couldn’t see the bottom of the pool, “How deep is this?”

“Not too deep. I’ll leave you alone.”

Somewhat surprised, Flare turned from his study of the pool to gaze at the dwarf. “Alone?”

“Do you not want to be alone?”

“I’m just surprised that you’re leaving
me unattended
.”

Belgil smiled, “There are guards at every door.” He took a deep breath and stepped closer, “Don’t do anything stupid. You’ll only get hurt.”

After a moment Flare nodded.

The next week followed this same routine. Flare spent almost the entire week in his small cell. He only left the room every couple of days to bathe.

Besides the silent servants, Belgil was his only visitor. The dwarf made it a point to visit Flare several times a day. After nearly two weeks in the small room, Flare appreciated the company. Anything that dispelled the monotony of his boring imprisonment was welcome.

Belgil regaled Flare with tales of the wonders of the dwarven city. It was truly astonishing. Without knowing any better, Flare had pictured the city as a bunch of rooms connected by long tunnels. Belgil scoffed at the very thought.

“Why the cavern of Dedrak is over a mile long and nearly a quarter mile wide,” the dwarf exclaimed. “The buildings rise above your head into the far darkness. There’s the
Black Sea
and it sits in such a large cavern that it surely stretches
to
the far sides of the mountain range. And the
Endless C
liffs stretch for over three miles and
the ground is so far away that it seems bottomless.”

On and on the dwarf went, each tale seemingly more unbelievable than the last, but Flare didn’t mind. It was an entertaining distraction and he could even imagine the places that Belgil described.

When Flare wasn’t listening to Belgil’s stories, it seemed he was eating. He never seemed to be full and it was probably due to his
over-exertion
. When he had first awoke, he had been exceedingly weak, but his strength quickly returned and he almost could
see
his body filling back out.

One such day, as Flare sat on his bed and stared around at his miniscule room,
the door of his small cell opened and in stepped a smiling Belgil.

As he rose to meet his guest, Flare was somewhat surprised. It was rather early for Belgil to already be here. Somewhat stooped in the small cell, Flare smiled and nodded his head. “You’re earlier than usual.” An uncomfortable thought occurred to him and he spoke quickly, “Has the king decided to meet with me?”

Belgil’s smile slipped a little but he recovered quickly. “Uh, no. Not yet. But as you have shown such an interest in the wonders of my home, I thought you might like to see one.”

“Absolutely, yes!” Flare replied quickly. After being in his cell for over a week, he would have gladly taken a tour of the dwarven sewers.

“I have a condition though,” Belgil said quickly and his face was suddenly stern. “You must give me your word that you will not try to escape.”

Although this might be the best opportunity he would get, Flare quickly agreed. It would be poor repayment to
betray
the one
dwarf
who had shown him any hosp
itality. “Where are we going?”

In answer Belgil smiled. “None of that. I won’t ruin the surprise.” He turned to the door, “Come.”

Flare followed his guide out into the hallway and wasn’t the least bit surprised to see four guards accompanying them. At least they didn’t follow too closely.

On those few occasions when
he
had been let out of his cell, they had turned left and gone to the bathing room. This time, however, they turned right.

Belgil led them through the maze that consisted of the “guest” quarters, which Flare privately referred to as a dungeon, and they emerged into a much larger tunnel. This tunnel was ten yards wide and nearly ten feet high. The walls and ceiling were made from an ancient looking stone and the floor was worn smooth by the countless passing of dwarven feet.

Although the passage was exceedingly dim, there were no torches. Flare looked all around for the source of the light but found none. Finally he turned to Belgil, who was watching him with a smirk. “Where’s the light come from?”

Belgil motioned upwards and Flare followed his outstretched hand. At first Flare thought he was just pointing at nothing in particular, but then he noticed something strange. Small patches of what looked like fungus or mold seemed to almost glow in the dark. “The light’s coming from the mold?” Flare exclaimed.

“Yes.
It was discovered a very long time ago. We have it in every city, mine, and outpost.”

Now that he knew what he was looking for, Flare could see the glowing mold in great
swaths
all along the ceiling.

They continued walking along the passage in silence for a bit, and the emptiness of the hall began to bother Flare.
As they walked, a rather nasty suspicion occurred to him. What if the dwarven king had decided to just do away with his unwelcome guest? It would seem that it would be easy enough to take that guest to see a “wonder” of the city and then quietly kill him and leave him in some dark hole. With his suspicions aroused, Flare glanced back over his shoulder. The four guards were still there, but they were way back in the gloom. If they had a nasty surprise planned for him, it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Deciding it was in his best interest to stay alert, Flare took control of his spirit. The heightened senses that always went along with sorcery might be invaluable. 

Almost immediately he could hear something. It was a ways off, but getting louder. It sounded like a dull roar and it took him several moments to realize what it was. “Water?” Flare asked of Belgil.

The dwarf’s eyes widened in surprise. “You can hear that from here?”
h
e asked.

It took nearly another quarter of an hour to reach their destination. Flare was kept in suspense to the very last moment. When at last, Belgil rounded a curve and stepped out onto a ledge.

They entered a large and naturally formed cavern. It was
as if
a massive knife had been used to stab the mountain. The cavern was long, running right to left, but not deep across. Flare guessed the far wall at no more than twenty yards from where he stood. The ceiling and bottom of the cavern were lost in the darkness, but
he
barely even noticed.

An enormous waterfall was off to his right. The water flowed into the cavern from somewhere high above and fell into the dark depths below. The sound of the water falling was nearly deafening and a thick watery mist hung in the air. It only took several moments before their clothes were soaked through.