Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach, Jeff Inlo [buy e reader .txt] 📗

a table at the head of the room. There sat four; Mappel and Lief, the interpreter Stephen Clarin, and the Reader Matthew.

They all watched the two newcomers approach. Mappel and Lief simply nodded. Stephen showed slightly greater interest, but the reader stared in wide-eyed wonder.

The two men that approached their table would barely reach the top of Matthew’s chest, but their shoulders were wider than any other here. Jon and Tun both wore long beards which hung from their chiseled features. The hair on their heads also draped long past their shoulders. Tun’s was as dark as coal, while Jon’s contained slivers of gray. Though younger than Tun, Jon allowed the tensions within his family to take their toll upon him, and thus, streak his hair with silver markers of his worry. Both pairs of eyes sat under bushy eyebrows and wrinkled foreheads, and each had fierce noses. They wore capes of dark purple and gem encrusted chest plates marked with the family crest. Tun carried a wide single-bladed maul upon his belt, sharpened by the hardest gems. Jon’s weapon hung less conspicuous, nearly behind his back. It was a dull headed mace, much smaller than Tun’s axe and with no sharp edge.

The two approached slowly while gauging their surroundings as well as those that watched them. Jon’s expression softened at the sight of the elves, but Tun continued to glare warily at all.

As the two dwarves stepped up to the table, the other four rose to greet them.

Mappel smiled softly as he offered a greeting. “The presence of the two princes warms my aging heart. I could not have asked for more. It has been a long time since I have seen either of you. If I recall, Jon had still not grown his beard. I see now that he is graying before his brother,” the elder elf chuckled warmly, for indeed the sight of the princes offered him great hope. He would not have to waste time speaking with an advisor or counselor. Their arrival meant the dwarves held no doubts of the severity of the situation. Time saved. Mappel made dignified introductions, presenting both dwarves to each at the table.

Lief nodded and bowed slightly to the two brothers. He then returned to his seat upon the bench. He sat rigid, clearly less comfortable than the dwarves with being in this cave like atmosphere.

Stephen Clarin smiled deeply at their introduction. A flicker of recognition appeared in the eye of the interpreter. He was indeed delighted to meet two of the dwarf people, happier still to find they belonged to the royal family of Folarok, as if that name meant something to him.

As for Matthew, he gaped with an open mouth at the sight of the dwarves. Short, sturdy men with gray faces seemingly chiseled in stone. Their arms were scant in length but thick in muscle. Matthew would not have been surprised if they could dig through stone with nothing more than their powerful fingers. They spoke with deep but soft voices which barely echoed off the far corners of this hollow room. He would later learn that dwarves controlled the pitch of their voice to reduce all echo to a minimum, a quality absolutely necessary for people that lived in caves. If all the dwarves in Dunop let their voice echo from the roofs of their cave city, Dunop would crumble within a year upon its deaf inhabitants.

With the introductions complete, Jon and Tun joined the others on a bench. Tun took the lead and placed himself down across from Mappel, then directed Jon to take a place by his left. They sat side by side, but subtly separated from the humans and elves. The space between the dwarves and the others at the long table was miniscule, but no less obvious. The underlying message of division was not lost upon Mappel, causing his smile to fade, but he quickly bit back his own anxieties and addressed the prince with ease of tongue.

“I hope your travel was without burden,” Mappel began but Tun cut him off.

“Our travel is not the point of this meeting,” he spoke with the authority of a king, as if his father had already passed on and it was now his word which was law. “Your messengers brought disquieting news to Dunop, news I would like explained immediately.”

“Very well,” Mappel stated with an even voice. He quickly, but thoroughly, described the events which led to the calling of this meeting. He began with the quake and Lief’s early suspicions. He noted the arrival of Ryson Acumen into the fold and the journey to Sanctum, including the meetings with goblins and undead alike. He told the dwarves of the return of the magic and all it had brought with it. He told them, with gravity edging his voice, of the appearance of Shayed’s spirit at Sanctum. He allowed Lief to tell in exact words what was spoken. When the younger elf finished the verbatim description of the event, Mappel cast a cutting stare at the older dwarf.

“It is why this gathering now takes place. In order to follow the instructions of Shayed every race which played a role in the Wizard War must again come together. To this end, I have sent word to all the races. Your arrival here is greatly appreciated, but it is also greatly necessary, as is the presence of everyone at this table. I can not help but feel we are all being guided by benevolent forces. Otherwise, I would have never dreamed of such a swift gathering of such needed elements. Sanctum must now be breached by our own forces. By those that are gathered here now, I believe we are well on our way of obtaining that goal. We must reach the sphere and destroy it. Otherwise, it will lay waste to the land.”

Tun, who during the dissertation listened intently, but appeared skeptical at many points, spoke with his heavy doubts dripping from every word.

“You know this for fact?” he asked dubiously.

Mappel took no offense. He answered the question with the calm of an even sea. “It is fact that the sphere was buried long ago to protect the land and its inhabitants. It is fact that it is again free. It is as much fact that the taint of poison remains upon the energies which now flow freely from the sphere over the entire land. Yes, these are facts that can not be denied.”

“But is it a fact that the sphere will obliterate the land? Is it a fact that it must be destroyed?” Tun continued to question.

“These are the words of Shayed,” Mappel spoke in earnest. “They mark the words of the last soul to speak for every race. We have but no choice to heed her warnings and her instructions, and to accept them as fact. The sphere must be destroyed.”

“Just like that? With or without the consent of others with as much stake as you?”

Lief joined the discourse and he scowled and grumbled with impatience at Tun’s doubts. “You are not being poisoned as we are.”

Mappel kept his eyes on Tun but held a hand toward Lief. “The magic will turn the taint of poison to all races eventually. Debating whom is more at risk is not an issue. It is true, we all have the same at stake.”

“Do we?” Tun raised his voice slightly to accent his disagreement. “Will the return of pure magic, as you insist is the only solution, benefit all equally? I think not. I think there are other alternatives we might explore.”

“You do not understand.” Mappel’s words carried more a plea for comprehension than any other emotion. “The wisdom of Shayed has made it clear we have no other choice. The sphere must be destroyed. We must all learn to live with the consequences, for there is no alternative.”

Tun seethed. A storm of anger washed over his cold countenance. “It is you that doesn’t understand. Elves. Humans! You are the most perverse at bending the magic to your own will. Little do you see how the magic was no more than a curse to my people before the time of the sphere. We have no great desire to see the return of magic. Elves and humans, however, will see their ranks of sorcerers and wizards grow. Even the lowly algor will benefit by generating healers. My people have no such natural tendencies to gain such benefits.”

Mappel refuted the claim, spoke with hardened determination to make the dwarf prince see the clear logic. “It is not from this standpoint we make this decision. We base it on the instructions of Shayed, who has always spoken for all.”

“She may have spoken for every race, but her spirit is still elf,” Tun uttered, not trying to sound disrespectful but making it clear that he was not convinced. “I do not question her appearance before Lief Woodson and Ryson Acumen, and be advised this is something I could do. The return of a spirit so old could have us arguing in itself for days. I will, however, give you the benefit of this doubt. I believe Shayed spoke upon Sanctum, but I question her instructions. The destruction of the sphere goes much further than simply entering Sanctum, something which was never meant to be done. It holds consequences beyond that. You yourself must admit this act will cause the return of wild magic back to the land. This is something which affects the lives of my people as the poison affects yours. The dwarves can not afford to place their very existence in the hands of others with their own interests at stake.”

Mappel held his voice steady. “You must acknowledge that even dwarf scrolls confirm Shayed’s wisdom. Never before were her motives questioned as biased toward the elves.”

“It is not being questioned now,” Tun stated roughly. “What is at issue here is the right of the dwarf people to make decisions for themselves. While you might not wish to examine what such actions will mean to my people, it is my responsibility. One day I will be king in Dunop. My people will have to trust in my wisdom and my judgment. Will they be so willing to cast faith in a dwarf who does not truly care for their well being?”

“Your presence here now attests to your worthiness to be their king. Your concern for their safety affirms your compassion, just as your desire to seek more attractive options establishes your sense of duty to all your people. But your unwillingness to accept the undeniable detracts from all these qualities. As a leader and as an heir to the throne, you must accept the situation when there is no easy answer, when you must make a difficult decision and choose the lesser of two evils. You say the return of magic will not benefit your people. I say the alternative is the extinction of us all, including the dwarves.”

“I am not ready to concede that point,” Tun responded firmly.

Mappel sighed and looked toward the younger prince.

Jon watched and listened carefully, but he had not yet offered a single opinion. Now, he avoided the gaze of the elder elf, uncomfortably examining anything else around him.

Mappel would not let him escape. “And what of you, Jon? Do you agree with your older brother?”

Jon coughed before answering. His voice was steady, not a tremble escaped his lip, his tone soft and balanced. “I agree with weighing all the options,” he said carefully as if his head waited on a chopping block and the wrong word might lead to the swift swing of a blade. His brother’s stare made it feel as if it was.

Jon continued, avoiding his brother’s scowl and maintaining a sweeping view of all the others at