“Belated warm greetings, Goblin-Master,” began Cornellus, as slaves poured them huge mugs of mulled wine. The half-ogre swelled across his huge chair, his short, golden tusks gleaming in the torchlight. Sweat glistened on his round head, and slaves blotted at his smelly wetness with cloth towels. He was a huge creature, but even seated on his grand throne he found himself looking up at this half-giant called the Speaker of the Truth.
“I fear I do not have lodgings for all the guests you bring to my lodge,” said the bandit-lord, waving a pudgy hand toward the unseen horde that, as yet, waited outside the walls of his stronghold.
Ankhar chuckled, deeply amused. “Goblins say you got room for ears of their cousins to stay here. They say you pay for those ears.”
The grotesque ogre flushed and choked, spilling some of his wine across his massive belly. He shook his head, heavy lids slamming down over his eyes in a practiced expression of boredom that attempted-without much success-to mask his fear.
Ankhar could see that his opening shot had struck home.
“I am afraid my esteemed guest has been misinformed,” Cornellus declared sanctimoniously, his voice rising. “I make bounty hunters pay for their killings! I do not pay them!”
“Of course,” Ankhar replied, his deep voice genial. He paused, slurping at length of the sweet, spicy wine. “Not important, anyway. Gobs can be pests. Filthy little runts. They like trapped furies when got good leaders.”
“So I hear,” the bandit lord allowed.
“Oh?” The half-giant raised a bushy eyebrow. “You hear about us defeat Thelgaard? Drove whole army of knights into river. Killed hundreds, drowned hundreds? Got whole baggage train?”
“Yes, word of that battle reached us even here, high in the mountains. I did not know if the stories were exaggerated, or not,” Cornellus said carefully.
“Of course, Thelgaard not such a wealthy duke. Not like in Solanthus! In Solanthus they got vaults filled to ceilings with treasures. But, Thelgaard not poor man. At least, not poor at start of day!”
Ankhar reached into his spacious belt pouch and pulled out a long strand of dazzling silver links, pouring the gleaming metal from one massive hand into the other. Laying the treasure on the table, his blunt fingers gently stretching the links apart, the half-giant revealed a chain holding a large disk emblazoned with diamonds and rubies.
The bandit lord’s eyes grew wide.
“This one of many tokens carried by Solamnic duke into battle,” the half-giant chieftain said with a belly-rumbling chuckle. “Don’t know why. Maybe he try to bribe us.”
“It is quite splendid,” Cornellus allowed, all but drooling as he leaned forward, probing at the gleaming necklace with one of his sausage-sized fingers. “May I hoist it?” he asked hesitantly.
Ankhar looked astonished. “You may have it! I bring it as gift for you. You like this stuff?”
“My honored guest, I am humbled by your generosity!” exclaimed the half-ogre, snatching up the chain, pouring the links between his massive hands. “It is truly a splendid gift.”
The grotesque Cornellus looked at Ankhar with an expression of almost tragic regret. “Would that I could offer something even a fraction as valuable in return. Alas…”
Ankhar waved away the offer, a magnanimous gesture of one massive paw. “I knew you like trinket,” he said. “Besides, I got no use for such treasures. I want other stuff. Not gold. Not gem. Not precious metal…”
Cornellus, ever the alert merchant, smelled a deal. “Tell me, O mighty war chief, what is it that you most wish for?”
“Ah,” Ankhar said, with another chuckle. “Maybe dusky giantess with big breasts-that rare treasure! Or maybe palace in the sky, on top of clouds. Of course, can’t have these…”
“No,” Cornellus agreed, with some relief. “Though I can inquire as to the matter of a giantess…”
“I tell you what make me happy right now, you know?”
The half ogre raised an eyebrow, listening.
“I want regiment of draconions. Back up my goblins. Then I take what I want, burn rest!”
“A regiment of draconions? With that, yours would be a force of raiders such as the plain has not seen in many years,” Cornellus agreed, thinking it over, imagining the plunder.
“Raiders?” scoffed the half-giant. “They more than raiders-they an army!”
“What would you do with such an army, may I ask?”
“With army like that, Ogre, I tear down walls of Solanthus itself. Open up vaults, where treasures piled to sky.”
“I wonder… is it possible? Would the draconians fight their best under your command?” The bandit lord’s eyes flashed.
“Est Sudanus oth Nikkas,” murmured the half-giant, watching his counterpart carefully.
“Eh? What does that mean?”
“They follow me, friend, and city, any city, can be taken. My power is my Truth.”
“Do you mean to say that you had him in chains? That you brought him all the way from the southern plains? And that he escaped on the very doorstep of the High Clerist’s Tower?”
Bakkard du Chagne’s voice was strangely hushed, almost a hoarse whisper, as he spoke to the captain of his guards. Even so, Selinda, who was off to the side of her father and Captain Powell, was certain that she had never heard him so bottled up with fury.
“Yes, Excellency. That is exactly what happened. It was a monumental failure, and the fault is naught but my own. My men acted bravely and competently throughout the long journey. I can only offer up my sword and my epaulets as penance.”
“You can offer more than that!” The Lord Regent’s voice rose, becoming shrill. “You can offer your blood, your life!”
“Father!” Selinda declared, stepping forward and raising her own voice.
“You stay out of this!” du Chagne snarled, turning to glare at her. His expression blazed, almost causing her to falter, but she raised her chin and met his fury with her own fierce determination.
“I won’t! Captain Powell’s behavior and his leadership were exemplary. The fault, such as it is, lies with me and with that wretched Assassin. The captain would have executed the prisoner at once, and I now see-too late-that this would have been in accordance with the situation. Instead, I insisted he be brought here to stand trial. I overruled the captain’s strenuous objections, invoking my own rank in imposing my will. I see that this was a mistake, and as a result of my mistake, not only has the fugitive escaped once more, but a good, brave knight has perished.”
Her father’s face turned a most disquieting shade of purple. His mouth moved wordlessly. Captain Powell broke the awkward silence.
“No, I cannot allow your daughter to accept fault in this matter, Excellency,” the knight said stiffly. “Though ’tis an expression of her noble nature that she does.” He softened slightly as he looked at Selinda, and she saw the gratitude in his eyes.
He abruptly snapped to attention, looking at some place on the windowed wall beyond the lord regent’s shoulder. “If your Excellency wishes some miserable portion of my unworthy flesh as just retribution, I offer myself willingly. Though it would not make amend for my failing, it is only justice I should suffer such fate.”
“Bah-get away from here, both of you!” snapped du Chagne. “This bastard has already cost me too many men-I cannot afford to lose even an incompetent, Captain! Go and supervise the stabling of the horses-I shall send for you at some point in the future.”
“Aye, Excellency.” Powell turned on his heel and with as much dignity as he could muster marched out of the vast chamber.
Selinda, steeling herself in the face of the lord regent’s anger, spoke softly. “Father…?”
“What is it now?” he snapped, then softened his voice. “What now?”
“The man who died… Sir Dupuy. Did he have a family? I should like to offer what comfort and recompense I could to his widow, see to the future of his children. It is only fair.”