The dwarves were silent as the knight travelled over to the young woman they had just witnessed battle against overwhelming odds and survived.
They waited for the humans to regroup before the knight walked towards them. It had been many years since the dwarves had spent any time with human’s and Torik remembered that humans were very touchy people.
Torik wondered if the humans knew what the goblins were up to, stepping forward to meet the human.
As the human approached, Torik spoke gruffly, “So human, what are you doing in the lands of the dwarves?”
Expecting to see some irritation in the face of the human, he was taken back when the human smiled openly at him.
“Glad are we to be in the lands of the Dwarves; I am Prince Salistar Warsung, Battle Commander of the Black Guard and envoy of my father, King of Caplo. We come in peace and seek the help of the mighty dwarves. Could you take us to your King so that I can converse with him on matters of grave importance to both of our kingdoms,” said the Prince in as formal a manner as he could.
“I am Torik, Warleader of this band; I will escort you to Darseholt, First let us see to your men, and maybe you can tell me why the mountains are full of goblins.”
Prince Salistar led War Leader Torik towards the Black Guard’s left; only a few sat on their horses, and he wondered how many still lived.
As they walked, the short distance war leader Torik called out in dwarfish, and several of his men came running.
Gesturing to Mal, who was now lying on the back of a wagon propped up against a bag of feed grain. While being checked over by a surgeon, Prince Salistar said, “War Leader Torik, may I introduce the Commander of the Black Guard, the Lady Malderia Talon of Grey Stones or as she is affectionally known ‘Orge Slayer’, Commander may I introduce our saviour Warleader Torik of the Dwarven Kingdom, he’s agreed to take us to Darseholt.”
“Commander, that was some fight you had, alone cut off from your men and surrounded by goblins; I don’t know anyone that would have been able to survive that,” said War Leader Torik.
“You flatter me Warleader, To be honest, I feel absolutely exhausted after it. Thank you for coming to our rescue. I owe you my life and the life of my men.”
“If you would both excuse me, I need to find the Chamberlain and get a reckoning for the cost of the battle from him, Commander, the Warleader would like to know why the goblins are here, I thought you could fill him in,” said Prince Salistar giving Mal’s shoulder a light squeeze as he walked past.
“Warleader Torik, The goblins and their dark friends are trying to kill Prince Salistar and me to fulfil some dark prophecy that if one of us was to die, then the Demon Délíntra would be able to enter our realm again. We have come to seek the aid of the Dwarven kingdom as we believe that we would survive better with friends at our side. If I may ask, how far is it to Darseholt?” enquired Mal.
“We have fought the same battle, please call me Tor, and you should be at the entrance to Darseholt by this evening and in the capital by morning.”
“Thank you Tor, I prefer to be called Mal myself; let me get the men organised, and we will be with you shortly.”
Master Killian came up to Mal and handed her the report on the dead. Looking at the names on the sheet left a bitter taste in her mouth. The last name was Barthel, the guard that had laughed when she said we weren’t worthy of leading them and the first to honestly swear loyalty to her.
It took two hours to get ready; the surgeons had to patch quite a few of the Blackguard up; they had lost twenty souls with the archers being hit hardest with half their number being killed.
The dwarves set a steady pace then allowed the tired humans time to rest. Mal was impressed at the dwarves’ stamina; after fighting a battle, they did not seem to need to rest.
Eventually, they got to a thin stony trail. The wagon was ultimately left behind, and all of the goods spread out over the rest of the horses.
As the trail got steeper, the Torik noticed that Mal was showing signs of fatigue and handed her a dwarven brew. It smelt strange but tasted several fantastic moments later; the warmth from the drink had propagated throughout her body; she felt fully refreshed and stood a little taller.
“Thank you, Torik, that helped a lot,” replied Mal handing the flask back to Torik.
“Your welcome, Mal, Prince Salistar would you care for some?” enquired Torik.
“I would love to try anything that has that effect on people, and please call me Sal since we seem to be on a first-name basis.”
“Sal it is, we have, after all, spilt blood on the same field of battle.”
The sky darkened to a deep black, the only light from the moon and the stars, but the dwarves carried on.
“Mmmm, we might run into a problem soon,” said Mal, “Tor, how good are your eyes at night?”
“Excellent, I can see the details on the hilt of your sword,” he replied.
“That explains it then, you see I can hardly make out any details, but you dwarves are walking on as if we are in broad daylight,”
“That might be a problem indeed; we have about another hour on this path before we get to the entrance to Darseholt. Let me think for a moment.”
Mal could hear him pacing back and forth in front of her before he stopped.
“I have an idea one of my dwarven brethren will lead each horse and keep it on the trail your men will have to ride mounted. Once we are at the entrance, there is a spot where the horses can rest.”
Calling his men forward, they took over the job of leading the horses and the remaining members of the Black Guard. True to his word, an hour later, they were on a small plateau where the horses were unloaded and let wander to eat some of the mountain grass.
“Behold the entrance to Darseholt,” said Tor, “Though I think it prudent that we camp here for the night, from here there’s a four-hour journey to the city of Darseholt. The horses will have to be left here, don’t worry, my men will keep an eye on them. Also, I sent a runner ahead with news of your predicament to the leaders of Darseholt.”
“Predicament?” asked Mal and Prince Salistar in unison.
“You can’t see in the dark. And since we don’t have a torch lined route means that you would find it hard to navigate the tunnels.”
“The Men will need a rest as well. What do you think is the likelihood that the goblins will attack again tonight?”
“None; I have a couple of scouts watching them; they will fight among themselves to elect a new leader. Let’s hope it’s a bloody election, hey?” replied Tor with an evil grin.
“In that case, a hot camp is in order. Will you join us for some supper?”
“My thanks, I will, although I’ll dismiss most of the men back to their homes first,” he said with a bow.
Mal woke to the cold crisp morning air that reminded her of home. A wave of sadness swept over her as she thought of her village being swarmed over by a bunch of savages. Pulling herself together, she told herself to leave it alone until she knew the fate of her village. For all, she knew the goblins had left her village alone after they started chasing her and her friends.
Getting up and dressed, she went about the camp, checking on the men. The cook was just adding some timbers to the fire to get the morning food ready waved as she passed on her morning routine. By the time she got back to the cook, the fire would have taken hold, and the kuffa would be warm enough to drink. While she waited for the oats and fruit that she had every morning.
Seeing the surgeons carrying a stretcher from one of the tents, the body of a member of the Guard was covered with his blanket. She went over to meet them. “How many did we lose in the night?”
“Three Mam, the trek up to this place was probably too much for them. I’ll update the Chamberlain with my nightly report shortly.”
“My thanks,” replied Mal and seeing there was little else she could do this morning, she headed to the warmth of the morning cook fire and a cup of Kuffa.
By the time she had returned to the cook fire, War leader Torik and Prince Salistar were sitting with a cup of Kuffa each.
“Morning,” they said in unison as she sat down.
“Morning gentlemen, I hope you slept well last night? Tor, once we break our fast, we will pack up and be ready to move out.”
“No rush Mal, I’ve received a note in the night to say that Master Hammersmith will be coming along and has a possible solution for your inability to see in the dark. So we have to wait on him, I’m afraid.”
It was almost nighttime when Master Hammersmith arrived. The sun had gone behind a mountain, and the darkness was closing in. He was an old dwarf, and his beard was almost white. It still had the odd dark hair through it, and it had little silver rings and bells woven into the braids on his chin. He walked with a limp and used a wooden staff bent out of shape and didn’t look like it would take his weight as he leaned on it.
“Master Hammersmith, may I introduce the commanders of the Black Guard Mal and Sal,” said Torik.
“Charmed, I’m sure, I think I have a solution to your issue. I have a spell that will give you temporary infravision. Probably not as clear as ours, but it will be beneficial nevertheless,”
“Sounds like you have a viable solution; when do you want to start?” asked Mal.
“Straight away, Mal, I can cast it on about six maybe eight people before I would be too tired to make the trip back,” replied Master Hammersmith.
“Then we will keep the party small Master Hammersmith, Myself, Prince Salistar, Dareon, Darr, Tomi and Master Killian will come to the city with you.”
Calling the group together, Master Hammersmith quickly took charge.
“Now, because magic is an arcane art, there are some important rules. The first is that there are two types of magic you need to know about. The first is external magic that damages you, and your body can attempt to resist some of it but not all. The second is internal magic that tries to affect your body from the inside, and you have a better chance at fully resisting the effects. The spell that I will be casting needs me to touch you while casting, which will make it easier for me and harder for you to resist the effects. Now you can choose to relax and accept the casting,” looking around at the group. “Is everyone ready?”
Seeing nods from each of them, he stepped forward to stand in front of Prince Salistar. “Please kneel, now relax and accept what will happen,” he said, placing his hand on Prince Salistar’s forehead and uttering a word of power.
“Dear God, this is amazing. Is this how you see at night?” said Prince Salistar, starring at his hand and then at the faces of those around him. Seeing the look on their faces which moment before had been hidden in dark shadows. “I’m fine; it tingled a little, and now it’s as if it’s early morning, nothing to it at all.”
Seeing that Prince Salistar had no issue, each of them followed his lead and knelt before Master Hammersmith, who repeated that they needed to relax before placing his hand on their foreheads and saying the word of power.
“You resisted, young man,” said Master Hammersmith to Tomi, who had a slightly embarrassed look on his face.
“Sorry about that; I hope I didn’t cause any issue?” he stated.
“None what’s so ever, young man; it just took a little longer, that’s all.” Said Master Hammersmith clasping him on the shoulder.
Turning at last to Mal, who knelt before him. He reached out and touched her head. “Are you ready?” he said in a voice so familiar that Mal’s whole body shook. As she watched in slow motion, his lips started to say the word of power, and without realising what she was doing, she mimicked him, but instead of whispering the word, she screamed the word in her head.
Master Hammersmith was thrown backwards from the concussion of the two spells directed at each other between himself and Mal. Mal, who was already kneeling, rocked from the impact of the shock wave. Horses reared and danced in the camp, and men drew swords. When they looked at Mal, her eyes glowed bright like the sun and its golden flames.
The moment that Mal had uttered the word of power, her mind had lit up the golden ropes that anchored her to her men stretched out from her waist like a golden web of power, the pulse beating in time to her heart. What shocked her was the arm of the dwarf that was touching her head glowed with a silver light. In fact, his whole body glowed and pulsed as well but with no web intrigued her.
Now that her mind had latched onto the thought of him. Her mind sped along his arm until she occupied the space adjacent to his pulsing sliver mind.
Runes and symbols surrounded his mind as she had reached across the last of the gap and touched one of the runes. The shock of her mind connecting his sent them flying both in the metaphysical and the physical worlds.
Cries of “Master Hammersmith” and “Mal” rang out as people rushed to help.
“What happened?” asked Prince Salistar, staring at Mal, “Mal, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, but I think I’ll have a headache for my trouble. How is Master Hammersmith?”
“Unconscious but alive, the better question is, are you okay?” said Tor looking at her glowing eyes.
After a couple of minutes, Master Hammersmith woke, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed a gentle silver.
“Master Hammersmith, are you okay?” asked Tor.
“Yes, I just wasn’t expecting that; how is Mal?”
“Err,” he said with hesitation in his voice, “Different” was the only word he could have thought of.
“Different how?” Demanded Master Hammersmith.
“Her eyes are glowing, mmm like your eyes,” replied.
“She’s a magi and a powerful one, although untrained. Take me to her as I’m sure that they will be looking for some answers.”
Seeing Master Hammersmith coming, Mal stood up. The light in her eyes flared as she smiled. “I’m glad to see you on your feet, Master Hammersmith; you gave us all a bit scared there. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine girl, Have you figured out what happened?” he inquired.
“I’m not sure, but I think I cast a spell.”
“That’s right you did; you cast the same spell at the exact same time, and because we were touching, it meant that the effects were multiplied as the two spells touched and merged,” replied Master Hammersmith.
“But how could I cast a spell?”
“You are a human Magi, of course.”
“Magi?”
“A Magic-user, one who can perform the arcane arts, now that your talent has surfaced, you will have to learn to control it.”
“Is it difficult to control?”
“No, it’s one of the simplest things ever you have to learn; just relax and let it flow through you. Now tell me everything that you experienced.”
“When you touched me, I couldn’t stop myself uttering the word of power, and when I did, I saw the golden threads that link me to my men, then I noticed your silver body in front of me. Your mind was surrounded by symbols and runes, one of them pulsed at me, and when I touched it, everything exploded. I hope I didn’t hurt you, sir.”
“No, you didn’t hurt me, so think no more of it. What do you mean, golden threads? Do you still see them?”
“Yes though, not all the time; I’ve been seeing the golden threads for a while now; when the men swore loyalty to me, they spiritually connected to me; the threads appeared between us, and they pulse with energy. What do they mean?”
“I’m not sure what they mean. To be honest, you are somehow different; you saw me as a body of silver light. All living things have a body of light, and it is always silver in nature; I’ll have to talk to some colleagues about this back in Darseholt. So I think we should make a start and get on the road as it were.”
Getting up, they picked up the bags with their things and threw them over their shoulders and started towards the gateway that would lead them into the mountain.
When Mal stepped out of the press of men and walked towards the gate, she noticed an ultra-thin thread of golden light leading off towards the slope they had come up the day before. Sudden realising that one of her men was left behind, she cried out “NO!!!” and ran for the slope.
Everyone followed. Prince Salistar got to her side first, and throwing arms around her, he stopped her from traversing the slope.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“One of our men is still alive down there.” She half screamed.
“How do you know?”
“I can see the thread; it is so thin and faint there is hardly any pulses. I think he’s dying; we have to go to him.”
Master Hammersmith, standing next to Prince Salistar, spoke up, “Mal, I want you to take a deep breath, and I want you to take my hands.”
Kneeling Mal took a deep breath and held Master Hammersmith hands.
“Concentrate only on my voice and think of your body of light; try to put your mind into the body of light.”
Suddenly Mal was floating in front of her body, and then Master Hammersmith was in front of her. When he looked at her, he noticed that multiple threads led from Mal and fed off to the people’s shapes.
“Quick, show me the thread,” he said.
Mal looked down at the threads feeding her and plucked one that was ultra-thin and almost non-existent. “This one”
“Okay, now I want you to push energy down the thread slowly; at first, feed him some of your health.”
Slowly, Mal realised that she could feel the pulses from her men taking hold of the pulsing energy; she felt the energy fill her. Opening herself to the power, she could see that it filled her completely. The threads and ropes that fed her energy, and she saw the opening of the ultra-thin thread. Taking hold of the energy, she pushed it towards the line. It resisted as she pushed it towards it. Just as she was about to give up, the energy started to trickle down the thread pulsing with life-giving energy.
Unable to stop herself, she sped after the energy until she was inside the body of one of the Black Guard. She sensed and knew that it was Barthel; she noticed that the energy was leaking from him. She could see it as blackness in the light that was Barthel; without thinking, she drew on the strength of herself and her men and pushed energy into the blackness pushing the darkness away.
She watched as she weaved the energy into patterns she didn’t understand and placed the weaves across the wound. The darkness started to recede from Barthel, and she knew that he would be well.
Her mind came to his, and there was no symbols or runes around; when she touched his mind, she realised that he had been knocked unconscious, and when he came around, he had to crawl out from under the bodies of several goblins. He had crawled for hours towards the mountains in a vain hope that he would be found. She came across a bright spark inside his mind, and when she touched it. The sense of his being exploded around her and filled her. She could hear his thoughts.
“Brother, I am with you, I have healed you, and we are coming for you.”
“Commander? What’s happening? How can I hear you,” thought a confused Barthel.
“We are on our way and will be with you as soon as we can. This is where we are at the minute; it’s not far, but the path is steep and dangerous at night. Once you get to this location, wait for us, brother.”
Stepping out of his body and floating up, Mal flew up to the clouds and hovered. Looking back down, she could see the tiny golden spark that was Barthel. Looking over the battlefield, nothing else moved in the night. Sensing a presence approaching, she saw the sliver body of light that was Master Hammersmith.
He stopped in front of her “Mal, come with me now, it’s very dangerous, more dangerous than you could possibly know, you must come with me. I will explain once you are back in your body. Now follow the thread that links you to your own body and come back to us,” he pleaded.
Sensing truth and fear for her well being emanating from Master Hammersmith’s body of light. She started to flow along the thread that linked her to her body. It wasn’t hard all the threads, but one led to the top of the mountain pass, and when she got there, they all linked to golden bodies that stood in a circle around three beings, two golden and one silver. Looking at the glowing figures, she saw Prince Salistar brushing the hair from her face as he gazed at her. His lips were moving, but she could hear nothing.
Mal watched as Master Hammersmith stepped into his body and followed suit; an audible click was the only sensation as she entered her body. Opening her eyes, she peered into the eyes of Prince Salistar and saw the concern in his eyes.
Smiling, she grabbed his arm and helped herself up.
“Dareon, Darr and Tomi, you are with me. Someone get a stretcher.” She ordered.
“And where do you think you are going?” demanded Prince Salistar, who had been near frantic holding a limp and cold body of the woman he loved for the last twenty minutes.
“Barthel is alive and is down there; we are going to go and get him and bring him back; Master Hammersmith, our arrival in Darseholt, will have to wait until we rescue our brother.”
“I’ll go; you can stay here,” said Prince Salistar.
“And you know exactly where he is at the minute, do you Battle Commander?” responded Mal with her hand on her hips, ready for an argument; she had used his title of Battle Commander to remind him that they were not on a war footing.
Grinning as he realised her ploy, “There could be goblins, or how knows what else down there. As Battle Commander, it is my responsibility to lead the men,” he said smugly.
“Battle Commander, you are, of course, quite correct, except that I scouted the area, and there is no danger, so you can stand down,” she said, squeezing his arm slightly, letting him know that she understood his plight.
Warleader Tor spoke up, “I’ll go along as well; we will make good time.”
Nodding, Mal headed down the path fast; the descent was rapid, and the mountain folk made good time. Tor was impressed at the speed that they moved, Sure of their feet on the rocky terrain.
Less than one hour later, they reached the bottom of the pass, and Mal took them towards the area that she had told Barthel to head to.
Mal spoke up as they approached the man crouched to the side of a large rock, a sword in hand ready to pounce. “Brother?”
“Commander, by the gods, am I glad to hear your voice,” replied Barthel with a look of relief.
Suddenly realising that the spell that Master Hammersmith had cast had made her forget that it was pitch dark at the moment.
“Can you walk? We have a stretcher if you need it.”
“I can walk a bit Sister, whatever you did, stopped the bleeding, and it’s easier to breathe now. Honestly thought that my days were numbered. I can tell you, How come you found me so easily?”
“A dwarven magi cast a spell that allows us to see in the dark as if it’s full daylight. The path that we have to traverse to get back to the others is steep and dangerous, but one of us will walk beside you at all times, Brother.”
It took most of the night to traverse back up the mountain; it was slow going. Barthel was still severely wounded; even though he was going to survive, he was still frail.
When they arrived back at the camp, it had the air of expectation. Barthel was welcomed warmly by his brothers, and Master Killian led them in songs of daring and adventure.
“You’ll need some rest after that trip, and I’ll need to cast the spells again. Shall we say we meet again in two hours?” asked Master Hammersmith.
“Two hours sounds perfect, Master Hammersmith,” replied Mal.
Mal watched the dwarf walk off to the tent that Tor had set up the night before. She decided that she needed to pass an order for the Guard to be less boisterous so that Master Hammersmith could sleep.
Going over, Mal picked up a goblet and went to the wine barrel and filled it. Walking over to Barthel, who sat by the fire warming himself and eating a bowl of morning oats.
“Brother, I grieved your loss, and I rejoice that you once again live among us, here brother, drink and know that you are alive and with family.”
“Sister, you saved me when all hope was gone, and when I was at death’s door, I felt your love infuse me,” lifting his shirt on his side to show a scar that crossed his side. “You healed me, and then you came for me. I might be your left hand and your right hand, but you are my heart, little sister.”
Swords were rattled against shields, and Mal had to quieten them down, reminding them that the Magi needed his sleep. Stifling a yawn herself, she bid them a good day as she realised that asleep was not far off.
Several hours later, they once again stood in front of Master Hammersmith, and once again, they knelt to receive the casting. When he got to Mal, he smiled, “Let’s try and resist helping, eh?”
Nodding, Mal knelt and relaxed as he cast a spell on her. This time there was no second sight, and Mal was slightly disappointed.
“What’s wrong?” Asked Master Hammersmith seeing the disappointment written across her face.
“I don’t know; it just didn’t feel the same; I didn’t experience the same effect when you touched me.”
“I shielded myself, just in case you couldn’t resist the urge to cast a spell, so that’s probably the difference.” He said shyly.
“Maybe so,” said Mal standing and looking to the rest of the group. “Everyone ready?”
When everyone either nodded or replied that they were ready. Mal turned to the dwarves that were waiting on them. “Master Hammersmith, Warleader Tor, please lead on,”
The Dwarves led them in through the gateway; its archway would be just tall enough for mounted men to exit two by two. The tunnel they were in was almost a road in and of itself.
Although the terrain was not as smooth as a regular road. The dwarves had carved it out of the rock with their bare hands, so it switched from smooth to steps as the path became steeper.
As they went deeper, the light from the gateway disappeared utterly; the infravision that Master Hammersmith had cast on them let them see in the darkness, but the level of detail lessened as they went deeper into the tunnels.
“Master Hammersmith? Did you cast the infravision spell differently? I can’t see as well as we could last night.”
“Last night, you were outside and even though there was very little moonlight. There was some, so your infravision was like daylight. At the minute, it would be like dusk, right?” replied Master Hammersmith.
“Yes, dusk, that’s exactly how I would describe it; thank you that makes sense,” replied Mal, the others visibly relaxed hearing the simple explanation.
Soon the path split into three, and they took the right-hand path. Gesturing to the other tunnels, Mal asked Warleader Torik, who was walking beside her, “I didn’t expect there to be other paths.”
“We have tunnelled these mountains extensively our mine shafts criss-cross the mountain range. The left-hand path leads further north to one of our outposts. If you carried on for five days, you would arrive at Del-arth-ron, a mining community of fifty strong dwarves. The central path would have led you to a vast underground lake that flows out of the mountains towards the lake of the three moons.”
They came to many paths as they travelled, and Tor explained what was off in each direction.
Several hours later, they arrived at a set of stone doors that Torik hit three times with his war hammer. Slowly the massive stone doors swung open to reveal the inner corridors of Darseholt.
A light green glow spilt from bowls suspended from the buildings inside the doors. The light flared brightly in their eyes.
“Welcome to Darseholt, the greatest dwarven city in the world,” said Torik.
Leading the party into Darseholt proper, Mal was impressed with the dwarven city. She liked the natural flow of the architecture; it reminded her of the elven city she had stood in several months before.
While the buildings were made of stone compared to the elven preference for wood, the builders sculpted the city from different coloured stones that reflected the glow from the bowls and brightened the roads.
Dwarves went about their day and threw many glances as the humans walked past. Mal felt utterly lost by the time they rounded the last corner and approached the massive stone keep.
“Dear God, how did you build something that big?” exclaimed Prince Salistar when he saw the massive stone blocks that made up the walls.
“We Dwarves have a way with stone,” grinned Master Hammersmith, who was pleased with their reactions to the city he called home.
Entering the dwarven keep, Mal expected to duck as the Dwarves were such short people. But the rooms had vaulted ceilings with delicate stone pillars that seemed to defy the weight that they held.
They stopped in a hallway where the steel boots of the knights clanged loudly on the stone floor. A large tapestry of a battle scene took up a whole wall. It took Mal a second look to realise that this was the same battle scene carved into the doors that had led them here.
Mal could see some differences in this depiction compared to the carved doors in Kurik. The dwarves were more prominent, and the humans and elves had a smaller place in the battle history.
Wondering if the elves had a version of the battle scene somewhere in the elven city. Mal turned to see that Master Hammersmith was murmuring to another dwarf that had appeared from somewhere.
Walking over to stand beside Prince Salistar, Mal nudged his elbow and nodded towards the new dwarf speaking in dwarfish to Master Hammersmith. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
“I think that he is the equivalent to Chamberlain, but I might be wrong. They have been speaking for about five minutes. You were engrossed in the tapestry, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“It’s a depiction of the battle that is on the carved doors in Caplo and Kurik, though in this one, the dwarves take centre stage and the humans and elves are secondary to the battle. I wonder if the elves have a depiction where they are the saviours.”
“It is human nature to promote one own belief and status above others. Seems like it’s not just a human flaw, though,” replied Prince Salistar with a grin.
Master Hammersmith turned and introduced the dwarf that he had been speaking with. “This is Cardvork Ironspike. He will schedule a meeting with the King as soon as is possible.
“Cardvork, is that your title or name?” asked Prince Salistar.
“It’s a title a bit like your Chamberlain but not quite,” replied the Cardvork.
“Thank you for agreeing to set up a meeting with your King. Do you know when it might be?” asked Prince Salistar.
“I’m afraid that it will be tomorrow at the earliest, maybe the next day. His majesty is a very busy man.”