Chapter 26
Reynard
My one visit to Wiosna during my youth hadn’t prepared me for what I was facing now. Wherever I looked, the sturdy homes and workshops stood eerily quiet, their windows staring back at us as we passed. Haggling merchants no longer occupied the streets – no one did.
The entire city, a pearl of metallurgy and engineering, was as silent as a grave. The only sound was the passing of our army, footsteps accompanied by the subdued murmuring of soldiers.
‘Where are the dwarves? We’ve only encountered men. Where is everyone?’ Ivar whispered. The soldiers weren’t the only ones affected by the eerie atmosphere.
‘Underground, dead, or fleeing. You saw the dwarves who survived the battle; there’s not much left of this proud race.’ My words were unnecessarily harsh, but my worry for Tova was growing with each passing moment.
‘How can anyone do this to their own people?’ Ivar shook his head, but I had no answer for him. M?ot sacrificing his people was something I struggled to comprehend. It felt like the unshakable dwarf, the warrior who’d fought by my side, had been driven to madness.
We neared the mines’ entrance. The massive carved archway led to a moving platform large enough to fit a horse and cart. The closer we came, the louder my heart hammered, the blood rushing until all I could hear was it roaring in my veins.
‘Please be there, you obstinate fool. Please be there,’ I muttered. The prayer to Svarog, god of the dwarves, slipped from my lips. I would crawl through those bloody mines if I had to, but I would deliver Tova back to her.
Not that I believed any god would listen to me. Those beings rarely granted mercy to praying kings, reserving their blessings for the chosen few. When we found the entrance devoid of any movement, just like the rest of this bloody city, I felt hope trickle away.
‘Ivar, find me men who aren’t afraid of moving through dark tunnels. We’re going down–’ I hadn’t finished the sentence when a shadow in the ornate carving moved. The doors burst open with the loud screaming of rusty hinges, and several people spilled out, startled to a halt at the sight of us.
‘My lord… spare us. Master Tova promised you were a fair man.’ An elderly dwarf dropped to his knees so close that my horse startled. ‘Please, spare us. We didn’t want this war.’
‘Tova? He’s still alive?’ I asked, fighting the relief flooding me at those words.
‘Alive? Yes. He was fighting the king’s men with those he freed from the cells, but we… we are no warriors, sire,’ he said, bowing even lower until I gestured to the soldier to help him up.
‘You worked in the mines?’ I asked.
‘Worked? No, I help the humans to farm the lands – the terraces, I mean. That was my job,’ he said proudly, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that most of those terraces were now a ruin of mud and rock.
‘But you know where these tunnels lead?’ I asked, a plan forming in my head.
‘I know the way to the court and the storage hall. The rest is only known to the miners as they constantly change.’
I turned to Ivar. ‘Gather the men; we found our guide.’ My commander nodded, but even without his orders, several soldiers stepped forward to volunteer. The old dwarf hesitated, but just as I thought I’d have to force his compliance, a younger dwarf stepped forward.
‘I’ll take you wherever you want. I know the mines.’
The clash of steel and fighting rang out even before we arrived at the lower level. Our guide pointed to a large corridor to the left. ‘There. It’s coming from the court.’
I rushed forward, grabbing a fallen axe from a corpse as I passed. My sword was useless in tight spaces, but an axe would work its sharp charm on my enemies.
Even running towards the battle raging in the distance, the beauty of this place took my breath away.
The dwarves had created something exquisite that spoke to my warrior’s soul.
Walls carved from the mountain gleamed in the flickering torches, the light multiplied by countless gemstones.
The floor was granite, polished so smooth that I swore I was running on water.
A heavily blood-stained water, littered with corpses.
We burst into the throne room, stopping at a macabre barricade.
Bodies, dozens of them, were piled in front of a small dais, with no thought to the dignity of their sacrifice.
M?ot and his guards were making their last stand against Tova and his ragtag army.
Each dwarf was so filthy and emaciated that it surprised me they could lift their weapons, let alone swing them with the ferocity I witnessed.
There were picks and shovels, the rare axe – all used with brutal efficiency.
Unfortunately, against the better-armed warriors, they could only pin their opponents in place.
It was time to break this impasse. ‘Capture the king alive,’ I said.
Instantly, my men joined the battle, but my attention was entirely on Tova.
M?ot was fighting several others with the fury of a cornered badger.
His face was wrinkled, his usually braided beard wild and bloodstained.
The dwarven king, always so flamboyant in his choice of clothing, now wore threadbare and grimy rags.
He was already injured. A deep gash split his cheek almost in half, but even now, M?ot was a powerful warrior.
He swung his axe at Tova’s head with a roar, but the tinkerer somehow deflected the blow, the edge scoring his shoulder and knocking him back.
‘Die, you motherfucker!’ Tova screamed, tears flowing down his cheeks. His attacks were wild and clumsy, but the king’s guards still stepped forward to block them, sparks flying when his axe met their armour. ‘You’ll fucking die for what you did to us!’
‘Protect the dwarf,’ I told my personal guards. His fury and grief would see him killed. I would not allow this. With my men joining the melee, the balance shifted. Tova’s men gained the upper hand until there were only a handful of M?ot’s men standing between their king and annihilation.
I called off the attack, helping drag back those too crazed to fall back, and faced the beleaguered enemy. ‘Surrender, and you’ll live,’ I said, facing the bodyguards.
M?ot, axe in hand, hurried to the throne.
He sat down with slow deliberation, staring at me intensely, then leaned forward in challenge.
His gaze was pure hatred. When I didn’t react, he grabbed his sceptre, hurling it at my head.
The heavy gold rod didn’t even reach me, crashing to the floor next to the bodies of his people
‘You’re planning on sparing me as well?’ he spluttered, saliva gathering in the corner of his mouth. ‘It’s all your doing! Your wars! Your enemies! And that witch, that spy you planted in my kingdom…’ he said, pointing a trembling finger at me like he was still in charge.
‘My wars?’ I took a step closer. ‘Must I remind you that the Lich King threatened us all? Or did you forget about the Olgoi worms that feasted on the ore you mine here?’
M?ot’s maniacal laughter echoed around the chamber, blood now pouring from his wounded cheek.
As I came closer, one thing became obvious, though it wasn’t the cut from the blade.
‘No, they wouldn’t. The srebrec would stop them.
Srebrec will stop you all!’ He shook his head, screaming the last words to the rafters.
His voice faded, and a rattling cough shook his body. M?ot grabbed his collar and yanked it open. Just like his men, his skin was marred by pustules, one ruptured when he scratched his neck, and a foul stench filled the air.
I was standing in front of a dying madman whose bloodshot eyes no longer saw the truth. ‘The srebrec is killing your people, and it’s killing you,’ I said calmly. There was justice in M?ot’s fate, but I wasn’t here to gloat.
‘Ernesto told me you’d be my end, but I didn’t want to listen,’ M?ot muttered, his words turning more incoherent with each passing moment. He fell back onto his throne, hitting his head. A grimace of pain twisted his features. ‘It’s fine. It’s all fine. We’re all going to die in Svarog’s furnace.’
‘No!’ Tova shouted when M?ot reached for the lever hidden beside the throne.
I whipped out a dagger and threw it at the king.
The blade embedded itself in his shoulder, but it didn’t stop him.
Even as his scream tore through the air, his grip tightened on the handle and pulled it back.
A low rumble followed, the floor beneath our feet shaking.
‘I don’t think so,’ I said, passing his subdued men while he writhed on the floor. M?ot’s screams became maniacal laughter while I struggled to reset the lever. It was stuck.
Suddenly, the dwarven king threw himself at me. Using my own dagger, he lashed out, the blade only stopped by my armour. My fist shot forward, connecting with his chin and whipping his head to the side. The old dwarf tumbled down the steps of his own dais to land in a crumpled heap at Tova’s feet.
‘Reynard, time’s running out. What do you want to do with him?’
Tova wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at M?ot, breathing hard with his hand gripping the axe so hard his knuckles turned white.
‘He’s yours to deal with. Let him live, or kill him.
This is your home, and your choice to make.
’ I dropped to the steps of the dais, bone-tired, then I watched, gesturing for my men to stay back.
My anger fizzled out looking at Tova’s grim face.
From my seat on the steps, I watched the dwarves circling the fallen king like a pack of wolves.
‘Did you do it? Did you fucking do it?’ Tova’s voice raised an octave when he ripped the strange-looking key from M?ot’s neck. ‘Tell me the combination.’
Combination? That caught me off guard. Tova was holding M?ot by his long, plaited hair. The edge of his axe blade was pressed against the old dwarf’s neck so close to the artery that I feared we’d never get an answer to his questions.