In the centre of the column was a slight, female figure, arms bound behind her back. She was almost naked. Her head lolled on her chest.
‘That’s her!’ Princess Mordis hissed. Again she was cowled to conceal her identity.
‘She helped you and Gwen to escape?’ Hal asked, but Mordis did not reply. She was watching the scene intently.
The swart-elf executioner got down from his giant lizard, and vaulted onto the platform. A roar came from the crowd as he strode back and forth, his bare chest gleaming, his muscles rippling as he bore the axe aloft.
Then, to the beat of drums, guards led the slave girl up onto the platform beside him.
An official took the platform, and he faced the crowd, ignoring jeers and catcalls as he read out the slave girl’s crimes. The girl stood beside him, head bowed in defeat. Rotten eggs and fruit showered the platform as the official vainly read out the notice. Finally, he gave up. Indicating the executioner, he leapt back down to seek the protection of the guards.
The mob surged forward. The executioner led the slave girl to the block, making her kneel before it. He brandished his axe another time. Trembling visibly, the slave girl laid her head on the block.
‘Shouldn’t we do something?’ Hal said. ‘When will the riot start?’
‘She’s only a slave,’ Mordis said callously.
The axe swished down.
A well-aimed egg hit the executioner square on in the face. He staggered back, his aim going wild. The axe thudded down into the planks of the platform beside the block.
The soldiers marched forward, their spears flickering here and there. Hal saw figures in the crowd fall.
Then the riot began.
‘Come on, then!’ Mordis hissed. ‘Now is our chance. The gates stand open. Let us do as Althiof bade.’
‘What about the slave girl?’ Hal asked as they ran through the crowd, dodging wild-eyed rioters and death-dealing guards with equanimity. ‘Didn’t she help you? Doesn’t she deserve to be saved?’
‘Hal is right,’ Gangrel said. ‘We cannot leave her. Head for the platform.’
The executioner was sitting on the block, watching the riot and dabbing fastidiously at his face. Beside him, the slave girl knelt in silence. The guards had all left to quell the riot. Even now, it was spreading into other parts of the city, if the burning buildings visible in every direction were any indication.
As Hal and his companions scrambled onto the platform, the executioner hurriedly replaced his mask.
‘Nobody appreciates the public executioner these days,’ he announced. ‘It was different in my father’s time. I’m only here to do my job! It’s not as if it’s a nice job. I’d rather be a tax gatherer; no more popular, but far more potential for profit...’
‘Give us the girl,’ Gangrel commanded.
‘Can’t do that,’ the executioner replied smugly. ‘Orders are orders. Can’t behead her when the mob is rioting, but that doesn’t mean she can go free.’
Tanngrisnir produced Helbrand. The others drew their weapons. The executioner faced them down.
‘No use threatening me!’ he warned. ‘If you want her released, you can get the appropriate papers signed by the authorities. Contact the Chief Scrivener’s Department through the usual channels…’
Hal strode forward and helped the slave girl to her feet. After glaring contemptuously at the executioner, he turned to her. ‘It’s alright,’ he said. ‘You’re safe now.’
Tanngrisnir broke open her fetters with the headsman’s axe.
‘I’ll report you!’ the executioner shouted, as they plunged off the platform and began shouldering their way through the rioting mob. ‘I’ll report you for this! Do you have any idea how much paperwork this will mean?’
The gates stood open, as promised. Beyond them, the castle loomed, impossibly vast, as if hewn from the mountain itself. Hal, Eric, Gangrel, Tanngrisnir, Mordis, and the slave girl, who had introduced herself as Ilmadis, rushed through them, clattering into the wide courtyard beyond.
They halted. Blood soaked the cobbles, incredibly red in the torchlight. Dragging himself towards them from the main entrance was a bloody figure. Arrows jutted from his back.
The figure raised his face. Hal recognised Gaflok beneath the mask of blood. ‘You took your time,’ the swart-elf bubbled.
‘We were delayed, rescuing Ilmadis here,’ Gangrel said. He looked about him in solemn horror. Following his gaze, Hal saw twisted bodies lying in the shadows.
‘What happened to those troops you told us about?’ Eric asked.
‘They didn’t rise…’ Gaflok said faintly. ‘They remained in barracks. We rushed in, but we were ambushed…’
The air above them hummed, and another arrow was suddenly jutting from Gaflok’s back. His eyes rolled in his head, and he slumped lifeless to the cobbles. The gates clanked shut behind them. Hal spun round. ‘What’s going on?’ he shouted.
A voice from a window high up in the castle wall alerted them. ‘I thought you’d never come,’ Althiof said. ‘Don’t try to resist. Archers occupy every arrow slit in this wall, training their shafts on you right now. I dealt with the rest of the rebels while you were off on your quixotic mission.’
‘I knew you were not working for my people,’ Tanngrisnir cried. ‘My folk would never stoop to use means so dishonourable.’
Althiof laughed. ‘On the contrary,’ he replied. ‘They gave me much gold in return for my services. But the swart-elves offered me more.’
The castle entrance filled up with pike-bearing guards. In the distance, the roar of the riots continued. But within the castle, silence reigned, broken only by the dwarf’s voice.
‘Now you can join your friend in the dungeons.’
7 THE DARK TOWER
‘What are you all doing here?’ Gwen said, as they came crowding into the cell.
She had been asleep. Waking to see the familiar figures, she had thought she was still dreaming. Then the door slammed shut behind them, and she realised that it was all real.
‘Well,’ Hal said awkwardly, ‘we came to rescue you, Gwen...’
‘But got banged up in here with me instead.’ Gwen noticed Ilmadis. ‘Hiya, Ilmadis. What are you doing with these losers? Hello, Morbid, by the way.’
‘They rescued me!’ Ilmadis gushed, with a shy glance at Hal.
‘Oh, did they now?’ Gwen replied. ‘Why couldn’t they rescue me, as well?’ But she was glad to see Ilmadis alive.
Hal pouted. Gwen wasn’t being fair. ‘We tried to!’ he said. ‘But we were betrayed.’
‘Again, that dwarf had me fooled,’ Gangrel murmured.
Eric glanced warily at Tanngrisnir. ‘Are all your lot as devious as that?’
Tanngrisnir shook his head vigorously. ‘My own kindred are honourable folk,’ he replied. ‘I began to suspect Althiof was not all he claimed when he outlined his plots. More the product of a swart-elf mind than of a dwarf; except perhaps a dwarf who had come under the shadow of darkness.’
Mordis sniffed. ‘So now you have failed to put me on the throne, what do you intend to do?’
‘Put you on the throne?’ Gwen questioned. ‘What’s all this about?’
‘We met up with a dwarf, Althiof,’ Eric explained. ‘He seemed to be running the Revolution single-handed. He got us, and a bunch of swart-elves, to storm the castle, intending to overthrow Prince Helgrim and put Mordis in his place. Oh, and, er, free you.’
‘But you ended up locked up down here?’ Gwen said tartly.
‘Well, you shouldn’t have got yourself captured in the first place,’ Hal flared. ‘We’ve been through Hel getting here.’
‘I like that!’ Gwen said. ‘Who capsized the boat?’
‘Children, children,’ Gangrel broke in solemnly. ‘Let us not fight among ourselves, but rather puzzle our way out of our current predicament.’
‘Perhaps… we should accept our weird,’ Ilmadis said quietly. ‘It seems that the harder we try to escape, the more do
omed we are.’
‘Nonsense!’ Mordis sneered. ‘We must get out of here, find my cousin, remove him, overthrow King Hrafnsvart, and put me on the throne.’ She added as an afterthought: ’I will allow you all to continue on your way when I am queen.’
‘If only it was as simple as that,’ Gangrel said wryly.
‘There aren’t enough of us to fight our way to the king,’ Eric said patiently. ‘Escaping is the most we can hope for.’
‘Oh!’ Mordis snapped. ‘You’re all useless. By Niorun, why are my servants so useless?’
Gangrel fingered his beard. ‘Let us hypothesise,’ he said at length. ‘We find some means of opening that door…’
‘How?’ Hal asked.
‘I have an idea,’ Gangrel said mysteriously, ‘but I am loath to put it into practice. Be that as it may, let us imagine for the moment that we have escaped this dungeon. What then?’
‘Run like the clappers for the main gate,’ Eric explained, ‘then hightail it outa this ’borg.’
‘We will not get past the main gate,’ Mordis said. ‘It would be better to remain in the castle, and attack from within.’
‘The Princess is right,’ Tanngrisnir said, ‘in that we will not escape through the gate. And if by some freak chance we do, the city beyond is in anarchy. The citizens riot. The soldiers massacre the citizens. Even if the riots have been quelled, the place will no doubt lie under a strict curfew, and patrols will be everywhere. We’ll have no chance of getting through them.’
‘We could wait until everything has died down,’ Gwen suggested.
Gangrel shook his head. ‘We have wasted enough time,’ he said. ‘Remember that the armies of chaos are massing. Not just in this world, but in Muspellzheim also; maybe the frost giants assemble too. Ragnarok looms.
‘And besides, despite the insurrection in the city, Prince Helgrim must be ready to unleash his forces upon the realm of the dwarves any day now, and with his dragons it is inevitable that he will slaughter them. It is imperative that we break free and make our way to Sindri’s Hall before the swart-elves attack. We cannot wait.’
Thoughtfully, Gwen ran a finger over her lips. She stabbed the air with it. ‘The dragons!’ she said. ‘Before they banged me up in this filthy hole, Prince Helgrim’s guards took me to him, in the hangar where they’re keeping these dragons. It’s about halfway up the tower...’
‘How fascinating,’ Eric said dryly. ‘Sounds like a good place to keep away from.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Gwen said. ‘You see, from what I’ve seen, the little I’ve seen, these dragons are just dumb beasts. Whoever sits in the saddle controls them...’
Gangrel looked at her. ‘What are you suggesting, Gwen?’
‘I’m wondering if… well, the swart-elves won’t expect us to go up the tower if we escape, will they? And they’ve got their hands full dealing with the riots, from what you say. So the castle will be almost deserted.’
‘It was a bit quiet when they brought us in,’ Hal said.
‘Why don’t we go to the dragon hangar?’ Gwen said.
‘Because we don’t want to get killed,’ Eric broke in quickly.
‘Shut up, clever,’ Gwen snapped. ‘Listen! If we can get control of some dragons, we could fly our way out of here! What could they do to stop us?’
‘Send other dragons after us,’ Eric told her. ‘With better experienced pilots than us. Hands up anyone who’s piloted a dragon before.’
Gangrel shook his head. ‘An audacious scheme, my dear,’ he said, looking fondly at Gwen. ‘And more feasible than most, in these desperate circumstances. But Eric is right. None of us knows how to fly a dragon.’
‘I do,’ Mordis said.
Hal turned to look at her.
‘I’ve never flown one,’ she added hurriedly. ‘But when my cousin was giving the family another of his cursed pep talks, he gave us a long lecture on the art of dragonflight.’ She raised a hand to forestall their excited questions. ‘I fell asleep halfway through, so I do not know everything. But as I recall, it is simple enough, much like riding a lizard.’
‘Riding a what?’ Hal asked, gaping.
‘The swart-elves use giant lizards much as we use ponies,’ Tanngrisnir explained in an undertone.
Gangrel looked contemplative. Then he rose, and looked down at Mordis. ‘Tell us all you remember,’ he rapped. ‘Search your memory for everything Prince Helgrim told you, and repeat it. This might possibly work…’
* * * * *
With a beat of mighty wings, the dragon swooped in to land in the middle of the hangar. Removing his helmet and extricating himself from the saddle, the dragon-rider leapt down.
‘Well?’ Prince Helgrim barked, as he approached. ‘Has the mob been crushed?’
‘Not yet, my lord,’ the dragon-rider replied. He gazed warily at the brooding fire giant beside the Prince. ‘Pockets of resistance remain. Much of the city is ablaze.’
‘You are too soft on the commonalty,’ Eld rumbled. ‘Were I in command, I would order an immediate punitive raid by all available forces, torch the peasants in their hovels, destroy the city and drive the survivors wailing into the waste lands.’
‘We in Svartalfaheim have other customs,’ Hrafnsvart quavered. ‘It is thought sufficient in the case of insurrection merely to disperse the mob, and flay alive every ninth commoner we capture in the main square.’
Prince Helgrim dismissed the dragon-rider, and began to stride back and forth. ‘Your plan has inconvenienced us,’ he told the fourth member of the group. ‘Did I not know otherwise, I would think you truly were in the pay of Aurvangar.’
Althiof chuckled. ‘The commoner’s uprising was easily crushed,’ he said. ‘The real threat was Gaflok, and the little band I met north of the mountains.’
Prince Helgrim turned on his heel. ‘Who were these otherworlders you brought into the conspiracy?’ he demanded. ‘Tell me more. They trouble me...’
‘Midgarders, mostly,’ Althiof replied. ‘Two youths, an old man. And a dwarf – I recognised him, though he didn’t know me. Tanngrisnir of Aurvangar…’
‘Tanngrisnir?’ Prince Helgrim bellowed. Althiof had said little about the conspirators, other than that they were a threat. ‘Tanngrisnir? And Grimnir? And he who will bear the Runeblade?’
Eld’s eyes blazed down at Althiof. ‘He comes hither?’ he roared. ‘The Bearer of the Runeblade? Prince Helgrim, why have you not slain him?’
‘I did not know it was he!’ Prince Helgrim blustered. ‘Nor who his companions were. They were last seen in Helheim.’ He struck Althiof across the face. ‘Dolt!’
‘Where are they imprisoned?’ Eld flared. ‘I must go and destroy them!’ With the speed of a flash fire, he raced from the room.
Althiof glared at Prince Helgrim, dabbing at his cheek. ‘All I knew was they wanted to rescue a prisoner,’ he protested. ‘I put them in the same cell, to taunt them.’
‘You put them in the cell with my bride?’ Prince Helgrim asked softly.
Althiof nodded, and shrugged. ‘Now I think it’s time we were discussing payment,’ he added. ‘I believe we mentioned a hundredweight of gold?’
Prince Helgrim turned angrily away. ‘Guards!’ Swart-elves rushed up. He indicated the dwarf, his hand shaking. ‘This traitor to his own kind requires payment. He has a thirst for gold. Sate it. Melt a hundredweight of gold; and pour it down his lying throat!’
Althiof paled. He turned to run. Immediately a ring of spears surrounded him. ‘Take him away!’ Prince Helgrim spat. ‘Take him away and give him his just reward!’
Moments later, a choked scream rang out through the passages of the lower level. Prince Helgrim smiled when it cut off abruptly.
* * * * *
‘But how are we gong to get past the door?’ Hal asked again.
Gangrel turned to them, and sighed. ‘I had hoped not to be forced to do this. Though I accompany you, it is not right that I should help you out of every tight corner, Hal.
You must learn to solve your own problems if you are to wield the Runeblade…’
‘Yes, yes,’ Hal said snappishly. ‘I’m getting a bit sick of this Runeblade business. No one asked me if I wanted anything to do with it. I just want to get out of here with Gwen and Eric and go home…’ He halted, remembering what Prince Helgrim had done to his home and family.
‘Exactly,’ Gangrel said, reading his mind. ‘Your vengeance is imperative. But you have a larger destiny, as wielder of the Runeblade...’
‘You were saying something about helping us out of this tight corner,’ Eric interrupted hopefully.
Gangrel looked at him, and sighed. ‘Since there is no other way out, I will do it,’ he said. ‘But it brings me no joy.’
He waved his hand towards the cell door. There was a metallic click, and it sprang open.
Gwen looked at him incredulously. ‘Did you do that?’
‘How did you do it?’ Eric asked.
‘And if you could do that all along...’ Hal said heatedly. He shook his head in anger, striding up the steps. ‘That’s it. That’s it! I’m not playing your games anymore, Gangrel. I’m going home, even if Prince Helgrim did burn it down. I’m not staying in your crazy world.’
He threw open the door, and stamped out into the passage, followed by Eric, Gwen, Mordis and Ilmadis.
‘Thanks, Grimnir,’ Tanngrisnir said quietly, wringing Gangrel’s hand. ‘I realise what that meant to you.’ He turned, and followed the others from the cell.
Gangrel sighed, and looked around the dank chamber. Young heroes! Why did he trouble himself with them? Because otherwise all the worlds would be conquered by the powers of chaos.
Sighing, he went up the steps and left the dungeon, not looking back.
Outside, he found that they had overpowered the gaoler, and were busily looting his armoury. Gangrel found his spear, which the guards had taken from him when they were captured. He hefted it, and turned to the others.
‘We must be careful now,’ he told them. ‘Even if the swart-elves are dealing with the rioters, there will still be guards in the castle. The less trouble we have getting to the hangar, the better.’ He turned to Gwen. ‘Lead the way, my dear.’