But even Jungor Stonesinger was not prepared for what he saw as Tarn entered the Council Hall, followed by Mog Bonecutter and Ilbars Bleakfell. Ilbars Bleakfell? The Daewar captain should have been the first to die in the ambush, according to the plan. So how had he survived? Had Ferro turned against him and informed Tarn of Jungor’s plot? It would be just like a Daergar to stab him in the back. Was that why Tarn was so subdued, because he knew that he must confront Jungor before the Council of Thanes and accuse him of the ultimate crime—treason?
Jungor’s eyes narrowed when he spotted Ferro enter behind the thane and his escort. The wretched Daergar traitor was purposefully not looking at him. Jungor almost sprang out of his chair in his anger, but he checked himself and covered his upset by crossing his legs, forgetting Thane Quickspring’s staff leaning against his thigh. He had only recently taken to walking with it, after the battle in the arena and the loss of his right eye. It clattered noisily to the floor at his movement, breaking the pall of silence that had gripped the audience. Slowly, then, the people arose to greet the return of their king. Jungor looked up at Tarn and saw the king glance at him, a look almost of thanks on his worn and weary face. Jungor picked up his staff and rose as well, joining his fellow thanes, except for the Aghar thane, Grumple Nagfar, who was asleep, or drunk; it was hard to tell which.
Tarn reached the bottom of the stairs and paused a moment to bow to each of the gathered thanes. Mog remained at his side, but Ferro slipped past him and made his way to the Daergar section. As he did so, he met Jungor’s eyes for a flicker of an instant. What Jungor saw there was not betrayal, but what was it? Something too brief to assess, but the Daergar thane was closely watching his subject. Meanwhile, Ilbars Bleakfell seemed at a momentary loss as to where to sit. Jungor thought this extremely odd, but few noticed it other than Ferro, the rest being absorbed by the actions of the king. Finally, someone in the front row of the Daewar section made room for Ilbars, and awkwardly he took his seat among them.
Tarn bowed first to the Hylar thane. Jungor was taken aback by this sly maneuver. It was clearly intended to catch him off guard, and it did—it was a moment before Jungor remembered to return the bow. He noticed that Tarn did not seem at all surprised or horrified to see that he had lost his right eye, and he wondered if the king’s spies had kept him so well informed of everything going on in Thorbardin during his expedition to Qualinesti. Jungor had already gotten used to, and even begun to enjoy and make use of, the surprise and horror of those seeing him for the first time since his injury.
But more importantly, Jungor’s hesitation had made him seem discourteous. He made up for his hesitation with the depth of his bow. He then made it a point to watch the other thanes as Tarn greeted them.
Next was Tarn’s cousin, Shahar Bellowsmoke of the Daergar clan. Shahar returned the king’s bow with a cool nod, which seemed to indicate that he was not, after all, in alliance with Tarn. Jungor’s agents had yet to wring a confession from any of Vault Forgesmoke’s accomplices, and Jungor had already begun to suspect that Shahar had acted alone in the attempt on his life in the arena. The frostiness of the Daergar’s greeting only confirmed his suspicions, though he did not discount the possibility that Shahar was merely acting indifferently to throw Jungor off the scent.
Next, Tarn greeted the Daewar thane. The Daewar were the weakest of the six clans. Most had followed that visionary fool, Severus Stonehand, off into the blue, trying to reclaim the lost kingdom of Thoradin. The Daewar had long been the Hylar’s greatest ally, but now there were so few of them that Jungor had been forced to recruit among the other clans in order to consolidate his power. Still, Rughar Delvestone maintained the traditional Daewar loyalty to the Hylar clan, and to their thane. Thane Delvestone was also a purist, and like most Daewar, suffered fanatical tendencies that clouded his judgment at times. Jungor had long ago learned to exploit those tendencies, and so the Daewar thane greeted Tarn with haughty reserve.
Next was the Klar thane, Glint Ettinhammer. Jungor didn’t give the Klar a second thought. If the Daewar tended toward fanaticism, the Klar embraced it wholly and without reserve. After the Chaos War, Tarn had won the Klar’s undying loyalty by unconditionally forgiving them for joining in the Daergar revolt, led by his mother and his uncle, Darkend Bellowsmoke. Their thane at the time, Tufa Bloodeye, had pledged undying loyalty to Tarn and Tarn alone, and his successor, Glint Ettinhammer, had renewed that pledge in the usual grisly Klar manner, by slicing open his hand and smearing his blood on Tarn’s sword hand. Jungor had never even tried to woo the Klar to his side. They were a scattered, disorganized clan, anyway. More than half of them didn’t even live in Norbardin. They still lived out in the ruined cities, preferring darkness and the constant danger to the light and safety of civilization. Jungor had plans for the Klar once he became king.
Tarn then greeted the other thanes by rank of seniority. Naturally, this offended the entire Theiwar clan, since he chose to bow to the suddenly resuscitated gully dwarf, Grumple Nagfar, before greeting Brecha Quickspring, thane of the Theiwar. Brecha was reckoned the youngest of the six thanes. Although no one could be entirely sure of the age of any gully dwarf, Grumple Nagfar certainly looked old enough to predate the mountain itself (as the saying goes).
Jungor knew that he could count on the support of Brecha Quickspring. The staff in his hand was hers; it had saved his life in the arena, and she had pledged the support of her clan soon after. Jungor suspected that the crazy dark dwarf sorceress might even be in love with him, and if that aided him in his efforts by assuring the support of the Theiwar, he wouldn’t actively discourage her aspirations. Neither would he encourage her, as the thought of a Theiwar wife literally made his stomach churn. He had no time for wives or thoughts of marriage. When he was king, then he’d need a wife because he would need an heir to solidify Hylar supremacy on the Council of Thanes. But by then, he’d have his choice among the most powerful Hylar families. He could always deal with the Theiwar after he was king.
As for the gully dwarves, Jungor never even considered them. Few did.
Last of all, Tarn bowed to the empty chair of the Kingdom of the Dead. Jungor noticed that Tarn’s gaze lingered perhaps a moment too long on that place, as though the king’s thoughts were preoccupied with the dead. Glancing around at the crowd, Jungor noticed that many were now looking at him, and waiting for him to speak, or act.
A mystique had begun to surround him after he defeated Vault Forgesmoke in the arena. Without really knowing why, he had cursed his dead opponent’s soul, speaking in the heat of his anger and his pain. Brecha Quickspring had built upon this incident by claiming to have seen the spirit of the dead dwarf bow in obedience. Dwarves who met him on the streets of Norbardin now shrunk from his scarred cyclopean visage, not out of fear, but from reverence. People whispered that he could speak to the dead and they obeyed his commands. Only a few days had passed, but already a cult had begun to grow around him. Its mistress was Brecha Quickspring.
After honoring the Kingdom of the Dead, Tarn sank into his chair. For a few moments, his chin rested on his bandaged chest. With a deep sigh, he then pulled himself erect and gripped the ornately carved arms of his chair. At his movement, Thane Rughar Delvestone rose from his own seat and spoke in tones rich with formality but empty of true feeling.
“The Council of Thanes welcomes King Tarn Bellowgranite home from his travels and adventures, and begs that he delight us with the tale of the honor and glory he won while abroad,” Rughar said, then resumed his seat. Though the phrases were nothing more than mere formality, Tarn’s face blanched when he heard the words “honor and glory.” His will seemed to waver for a moment.