Chapter 2
"From a Bit of Bad News "
Dorkuhn became the Kiredurk capital during the Fourth Kingdom , under the rule of Dorkhene the Magnificent. He had believed that the previous capital, Kohnduhn, located too far north and too high in the tunnels, was hindering trade, so he requisitioned a team of miners, architects, sculptures, and engineers to carve Dorkuhn in the most central point suitable for habitat. The Hall of Gronwheil, named for Dorkhene’s father, was the first permanent structure and became the seat of government as soon as it was ready. For the first two years, the royal family lived in a modest, wooden dwelling that caused many shortsighted council members to question the king’s sense of propriety, yet within a decade Dorkuhn had become an economic juggernaut that vaulted the Kiredurk kingdom into the most prosperous nation in the world, save the Great Empire.
As the Kingdoms passed through the centuries, each succeeding generation celebrated Dorkhene’s vision by seeking out imaginative solutions to social and economic problems, and the solutions that worked well were named as one of Dorkhene’s Laws. By Kraganere’s time as tenth king of the Eighth Kingdom , there were twenty-six of these laws. Young Kiredurks analyzed each law as a means of training in law, social justice, and economics, studying the logic of each from problem to solution. In every city and township, a festival was held for students to read their analyses.
This year’s festival was very near, and Pulhdine, Executive Assistant to the Secretary of Military Intelligence, was at her desk picking the musical selections for Dorkuhn’s festival when her assistant burst into the office.
“Forgive me,” the assistant’s assistant said. “But I have information that must get to the king.”
“What’s so important you interrupt me from this?” Pulhdine asked, motioning to the sheet music.
“It’s hard to explain.”
Pulhdine leaned back in her seat and sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling. This assistant had proven to be an annoying worrywart who rushed into Pulhdine’s office at least once a week with news that the kingdom was near collapse because of some looming disaster in a faraway township. She was certain this news would be no different.
“At least try,” she said, returning her gaze to the assistant. “I need to get back to business.”
“It’s about Roskin.”
***
As she made her way to the council chamber, where Kraganere and the council worked through the day, Pulhdine organized her thoughts. She couldn’t launch into this information without softening it for the king, but she had no idea what to say first. The news was bad, far worse than anything she had ever had to deliver, and for the first time in her career, Pulhdine wished she had chosen something other than military intelligence.
The kingdom had always been peaceful, and in her service as Executive Assistant to the Secretary, she had had only one brush with bad news – albeit nothing of this magnitude. Pulhdine remembered the task of giving Kraganere that message.
“My lord,” she had said. “Roskin has had another incident at a grappling tournament.”
“What this time?” the king had asked, covering his face with his hand.
“After losing in the finals, he verbally assaulted the officials before smashing a little furniture in the arena.”
“A little?”
“Just a few wooden tables and some chairs, nothing valuable this time.”
“That boy is his own worst enemy. Send out this proclamation to the entire Kingdom, from the River of Fire to Erycke’s Tomb to the Kireghegon Halls. Roskin is hereby banned from any and all grappling events. Then, send him to my study. And tell him not to delay.”
Outside the chamber, she notified the attendant that she required an immediate audience with the king, and being Executive Assistant to the Secretary, she was ushered into the room. As she marched onto the chamber’s speaking floor, the sharp clomp of her boots on the polished marble floor sounded intrusive and unseemly to her, but the king and the council members either didn’t notice or didn’t mind, for they greeted her warmly. She thanked them for seeing her on such short notice and went through the normal protocol for speaking to this esteemed audience. When she finished her introductions, Pulhdine turned directly to the king and kneeled.
“My King, I have an important message for you.”
“Rise, Pulhdine. No need for such displays between friends.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” she returned, finding herself unable to stand erect. “I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news.”
“Don’t worry, old friend. You know we don’t kill the messenger - usually.”
The council chuckled at the joke, but when Pulhdine did not, the king’s expression turned serious.
“Then, tell me.”
“It’s Roskin, my Lord.”
“Yes?” the king asked, his eyes narrowing in concern.
“We have received word from a spy among the outcasts that the ogres have somehow sold him to the orcs as a slave.”
The council murmured and glanced among each other, stating their varying opinions on the news.
“What nonsense is this?” Kraganere asked, raising his hand to silence the council and creasing his forehead to signal Pulhdine that he was not amused.
“Sir, I wouldn’t have come unless I believed the source. This spy has always been credible in the past.”
There was a long moment of anxious silence.
“The ogres have sold Roskin to the orcs as a slave,” Pulhdine repeated, thinking the king hadn’t understood her clearly.
Kraganere exploded from his seat and pointed at her:
“How dare you speak such rubbish! Leave this chamber at once. Leave this city forever, you tasteless swine.”
Pulhdine still couldn’t rise from the kneeling position, but she wanted more than anything to run from the room. Stuck kneeling before the king, Pulhdine saw firsthand where Roskin’s temper came from, for the king grabbed the edge of the council’s table, which weighed at least 500 pounds, and flipped it from between himself and the Executive Assistant with a primal grunt that drove through the room. Council members scattered to avoid the table and the chairs that it displaced. A guard grabbed Pulhdine by the arm and dragged her to the hallway, away from the king’s wrath, but even through the stone, she could hear him screaming profanities at the council members about her incompetence and lack of proper upbringing. Ashamed of how poorly she had delivered the news, Pulhdine collapsed on the cold floor and wept like a spoiled child denied its favorite toy.
***
King Kraganere stomped around his study, demanding someone bring him real news of what had happened. It had been two weeks since the former Executive Assistant to the Secretary of Military Intelligence had disrupted actual business with her ridiculous claim about his son, and almost immediately, he had dispatched riders to bring back spies with valid reports. None had yet returned, and the king had failed to concentrate on any official business as his mind raced with violent thoughts about what had happened to Roskin above ground.
As he began to feel that he couldn’t wait much longer, one rider returned with a spy from an ogre clan just north of the village of Ghustaugaun, the place from which the original spy claimed Roskin had been sold. The new spy was brought to the king’s study, an unusual occurrence for anyone beneath an upper officer’s rank. The king, taking his seat behind the desk, ordered the thunderstruck spy to tell everything he knew about the situation.
“My news isn’t good. They say Roskin traveled into the ogre lands with a villain, and as punishment for his crime, he and the villain were sold to the orcs.”
“Who are ‘they’?” the king asked.
“The clan leaders, including the matriarch, of Ghlounsourhan.”
“But as a Kiredurk,” Master Sondious, a council member who was close to the king, said. “Roskin broke no ogre laws by traveling into their lands, even with a criminal. How do they justify this claim?”
“I can’t answer that. I have no more intelligence.”
Kraganere rose from behind his desk and resumed his pacing.
“This just doesn’t make sense, my King,” Master Sondious continued. “The ogres and Kiredurks have been allies for centuries. Why would they suddenly turn your heir over to orcs?”
“I know this much,” the spy offered, his voice tight with anxiety. “The ogres didn’t give Roskin directly to the orcs. They turned him over to a Ghaldeon slave-trader. It’s presumed that the Ghaldeon sold Roskin to orcs.”
“You are dismissed,” Kraganere said to the spy, motioning towards the door. Then, the king, obviously burdened by a deep anger, turned to his trusted friend. “Assemble the council by this afternoon.”
“My king,” Master Sondious returned. “We should wait for more news before we make any decisions. This is all hearsay and rumor. Roskin is probably fine.”
“Assemble the council, Master Sondious.”
***
Master Sondious had grown up deep in the mines, the youngest son of a common laborer, and his family, while respected as good people and hard workers as far back as local history remembered, was not considered especially intellectual. In fact, as a youth, Sondious became the first member of his family to even attempt advanced studies, but in the Kiredurk culture, no capable dwarf was denied a fair opportunity for education.
During his advanced studies, Sondious became involved in political science and quickly became respected as one of the most promising students of the Deep Region. By the time he was thirty, he had been promoted through the ranks of local government and on to a regional position as Special Advisor to the Governor of the Deep. Just before his thirty-fifth birthday, he was invited to Dorkuhn to meet the ninth king of the Eighth Kingdom , and while in the palace, he befriended Kraganere, himself in his mid-thirties and on the verge of becoming king. It wasn’t long before Sondious was a permanent fixture in Dorkuhn as an assistant to Master Kohldorghn, one of the most well-respected and most decorated council members of the Eighth Kingdom .
From his years as Kraganere’s friend and advisor, Sondious respected the king’s sense of fairness and keen awareness of the power of law and justice. Kraganere always strove to be fair to his subjects, almost to the point of fault, and whenever possible, the king gave his subjects a second and sometimes even a third chance to overcome their difficulties. With Roskin, Sondious had observed, Kraganere had shown superb patience, itself a tremendous feat, for the future eleventh king of the Eighth Kingdom had a penchant for trouble. Whether it be in grappling events or poetry recitals, Roskin’s temper usually had bested him, and the king had repeatedly been forced to make amends for his son. From this constant cycle, the king and heir had formed a deep bond, one Master Sondious, himself without children or even a spouse, could scarcely understand, so he couldn’t make sense of the king’s overblown reaction to the speculations surrounding Roskin and the ogres. How could one normally so reasoning and patient lose his self control so completely?
One thing that was clear, however, was that the king’s rage was affecting his decision making. For two weeks little official business had been conducted, and grave matters that would affect at least three economic cycles had been left untended. Master Sondious was gravely concerned with leaving important issues untended, and he liked making rash, uninformed decisions even less. He had learned from Master Kohldorghn that any matter worth coming before the council was worth at least one week’s study and another week’s deliberation. Master Sondious often enforced this standard to the chagrin of his colleagues, the king included.
Now, with Roskin in some sort of trouble, the king had recalled the council to deliberate on questionable information with less than an hour’s preparation. The whole business made Master Sondious uneasy, and he had said as much to Kraganere in the antechamber just before this meeting commenced. The king had responded that council members were welcome to leave meetings at any point. Unable to abandon his post at such a crucial time, Master Sondious had left the king in the antechamber and had taken his seat at the repaired table.
The other council members seemed discombobulated from the many disruptions to their routine, and they whispered among themselves, morphing the rumors and speculations with their own inferences, before the king entered from antechamber. When Kraganere came into the main chamber and took his seat without the usual protocol, a sharp hush fell.
“As you are aware,” the king began. “My son is missing and is believed to be...” He choked on the words. “The ogres have committed the worst possible treachery by sending him to that fate.”
“We should demand retribution,” one council member erupted, but he stopped short from a ferocious stare by Kraganere.
Again, silence overfilled the room and remained for several moments. Finally, the king broke the awful quiet:
“For as long as history records, the Kiredurks and ogres have lived peacefully as neighbors, and we have always respected each other’s cultures and customs without harsh judgments. For the last thirty years, we have given them more than generous support in their war against the Great Empire, and our kindness has been returned by this betrayal.”
“My king, we don’t know that for sure,” Master Sondious interrupted. Normally, he would have never opposed the king so directly, but he didn’t like Kraganere’s direction and wanted to stop it before a point was breached that couldn’t be mended.
“We have the reports of two highly respected spies, Master Sondious. What more do you require?” the council member who had spoken before said.
“I’d like to speak directly to the matriarch of this clan.”
“So she can lie and twist the truth?” the other returned.
“My king, she is a trusted friend. Many times, she has dined in your palace. We should send a diplomat to her to learn more before...”
“Silence! I did not call this meeting for deliberation.”
Master Sondious, sensing the words about to come from the king, bowed his head and closed his eyes. The cold, dark reality of defeat settled on him as he recognized that Kraganere had abandoned reason for emotion. He recalled Erycke the Just’s famous phrase that “peace starts and ends within” and saw now that it was more of an admonition than a proclamation.
“As granted by the Charter of Trust, let it be known that I, Kraganere of Dorkuhn, Tenth King of the Eighth Kingdom , declare a state of peril, and as such, the powers of the council are hereby revoked until said peril passes. Let it also be known that all Kiredurks under my rule are from this point forward sworn enemies of all ogres.”
Master Sondious, gathering his composure after the initial dejection, set his mind to deciding what tasks needed to be accomplished.
“My king, our first priority should be to hire Ghaldeon blacksmiths from Kehldeon. Our smiths are not sufficient to prepare for what lies ahead.”
“Agreed,” Kraganere said to Master Sondious. Then, he turned to his page, who stood at-the-ready. “Dispatch riders at once to bring back as many blacksmiths as will come. Offer whatever compensation is necessary to attract their services.”
The page rushed from the room.
“As a statement of your justness in this matter,” Master Sondious continued. “We should allow all ogres currently within our borders safe passage out of the kingdom.”
“Why show compassion for the traitors?”
“This action will establish that you are on the side of justice and are not attacking unarmed civilians for the sake of quick revenge.”
“Well stated,” Master Londragheon said. She was often considered the wisest of the council. “The Ghaldeons are more likely to reject revenge, and we need their alliance for this campaign.”
“So be it,” Kraganere said, motioning to a second page. “Send word to every township that all ogres within our borders are to leave at once, and as long as they comply with this decree, their exit will be safe.”
The now defunct council murmured their collective agreement with the suggestions of Master Sondious and the orders of the king, and to the former, a contemptible enthusiasm had settled upon them. The kingdom was on the verge of losing its very essence as peaceful, and they were affirming it with smiles and congratulations as for a good harvest. While he had been the one to offer direction, Master Sondious recognized the gravity of the decisions. Many good dwarves and ogres were going to suffer terribly, and he did not find anything worthy of cheer in that fact. He had offered the suggestions because, as chief advisor to the king, that was his job, and if he stayed engaged with the king, he could bring to bear a measure of rationale and logic to this process.
As Master Sondious thought this, Kraganere rose from his seat and silenced them again by raising his right hand. Then, he spoke with a calm, firm voice.
“Council members, you are welcome to remain as advisors, but until the peril ends, you are relieved from your duties on this council. I alone will decide the actions of this kingdom. Prepare yourselves and your families accordingly. We are at war.”
