Bradok ushered his mother inside the box, not really expecting her to be impressed by the richness of it. He had just held her chair so she could sit when a jovial baritone voice broke over them like a wave.
“There you are, Bradok.”
The intrusion of the voice had a dramatic effect on Sapphire. Her face flushed and she quickly stood.
Bradok turned to find himself face-to-face with the mayor of Ironroot, the honorable Verdel Arbuckle. Arbuckle had been elected mayor of Ironroot a dozen years earlier and had stayed in the job, like all good politicians, through the appropriate application of schmoozing and graft.
Mayor Arbuckle wore perfectly tailored clothes over the fit frame of a dwarf just past his prime, but still well in the game. His graying hair had been pulled back into a knot, and there were silver caps on the ends of his flamboyantly curled mustache. He noticed Bradok’s wary smile and nodded in the affable manner of a wolf acknowledging an equal.
The look passed in an instant, and Arbuckle stuck out a hand packed with seven jeweled rings. Bradok clasped it, and the mayor pulled the younger dwarf close enough to throw his free hand around Bradok’s neck.
“Welcome, my boy,” Arbuckle said with a genuine smile. “Welcome. Your father was quite a force within these walls, and though we’ll miss him, I’m sure we can expect great things from you.”
Sapphire beamed at the praise being ladled on him, vicariously on her, for both husband and son. Bradok managed a smile. He knew what kind of force his father had been. The man was a predator. The only thing he understood was strength and its liberal application. For the first time since he got up that morning, Bradok wondered just what the council would expect from him, the son of the iron-fisted Mirshawn Axeblade.
“Well, I’d best be going,” Arbuckle said, giving Bradok an affectionate squeeze around the neck.
Bradok made to follow him, but the mayor waved him off.
“The session won’t start for a while,” he said. “Feel free to take a tour of the building.”
With an affable wink, Arbuckle departed. Bradok followed after him, intending to ask when the session would start, but suddenly slammed back into the door as he ran smack into someone. The scent of lavender and freshly oiled leather washed over him as he shook the stars from his eyes. When his vision cleared, he found a hill dwarf woman sprawled at his feet. She had the tan skin of a surface-dweller and hair that reminded Bradok of burnished copper. Her clothing was simple yet formal, a purple shirt and calf-hide leggings stitched with red ribbon. A look at her boots told Bradok that she walked rather than rode, and her hands were calloused as though she’d known hard work.
“I’m sorry,” she said, blushing and looking up. “I didn’t see you.”
“Not at all,” Bradok said, stretching out his hand to help her up. “I should have looked where I was going.”
She took Bradok’s hand, and he pulled her to her feet.
“I was just looking for the antechamber to the main hall,” she said. “I’m supposed to be speaking to the council today, but I got a bit turned around.”
“No problem,” Bradok said, not releasing her hand. “It’s one floor down near the front.”
She shook Bradok’s hand, and he finally let her go. Taking a step back, she looked up the hall and down before looking back at Bradok with an apologetic smile.
“Which way is the front?” she asked.
“That way,” Bradok said, pointing down the hall.
As she turned to go, Bradok called after her. “Wait,” he said. “What’s your name?”
She whirled, sweeping her mass of copper hair over her shoulders in the process. “Rose,” she said, still moving down the hall, stepping backward. “Rose Steelspar.”
Bradok watched Rose go until she disappeared around the curve of the hallway; he whistled to himself.
“Don’t be disgusting,” Sapphire said, ripping Bradok back to reality.
“What?” he said, turning back to his mother. “You’re always after me to get married, and she’s quite the looker.”
“Perish the thought,” Sapphire hissed, shaking her head for emphasis. “It’s bad enough that you made your money as a tradesman. Will you pollute our family with filthy hill dwarf blood too?” She gave him a look that said that all that should have been self-evident and that she detested the necessity of saying it. “Really, Bradok,” she admonished. “The things you say. It’s like you want to drive me to an early grave.”
He resisted the urge to answer in the affirmative. Instead he said, “I think I’d better go find out what time the session will be starting.”
“Before you go, Son,” Sapphire said, more sweetly, rising to her feet. “I want you to remember something.” She stepped close, lowering her voice as if afraid of being overheard.
“Your father made his presence felt in this hall,” she said. “There will be certain expectations of you … and there will be dwarves waiting for you to fail.”
“Mother, I-”
She waved him silent. “Whatever you do today, you must keep your wits about you. Don’t speak or comment on issues you don’t fully understand. Don’t offer your opinion unless you are specifically asked for it.”
“Above all,” she hissed, holding up a warning finger. “You must not show any sign of weakness. I want you to show them that you’re not weak, that you can and will take your father’s place.”
“I honestly don’t think anyone could ever take Mirshawn’s place,” Bradok said. Ever since he’d left home as a youth, he’d never referred to Mirshawn as his father. He always said “Mirshawn.”
A cloud crossed Sapphire’s face. Then she turned and walked back to her seat. “You don’t understand the game those men are playing,” she said, gesturing over the rail to the council chamber below. “Their game is power, influence, and favor. If they think you are strong, they will befriend you and aid you and seek your council. If they think you are weak, however,” she said, staring at him full in the face, “they will destroy you.”
With that she turned her back on him and sat down.
Bradok left the box without another word but still caught his mother’s trailing voice as he departed.
“Think about it,” she said.
CHAPTER 2
The Ironroot city council boasted thirty members, elected from the various districts in the city. Each had a seat on a raised ring that ran around the outer edge of the circular audience chamber. Thanks to the wealth and importance of the Mattock Street district, Bradok’s seat was positioned just to the left of the podium where Mayor Arbuckle presided over the council’s business. The podium stood even higher than the councilors’ seats and had been carved from a solid piece of granite.
Each councilman had an ornate desk with a polished top of gray marble. An inkwell and a box of paper were provided for taking notes.
The center of the chamber was a vast open area with a tiled floor, so the councilors and the gallery above could see petitioners or orators as they spoke.
Bradok entered the chamber from the back, behind the raised ring. A narrow walkway, covered with a thick, padded carpet of crimson red, allowed the councilmen to access their seats without mixing with the crowd outside. Bradok ascended the stone steps, running his hand over the polished brass railing. A fat, high-back leather chair awaited him, and Bradok sank down slowly into it, listening to the leather creak.
He didn’t want to admit it, but it felt good-sitting there in a councilman’s seat. Maybe his mother was right; maybe there was something special about the power he was able to wield from that chair. He was a dwarf of influence.
Bradok pushed the thought away as soon as it lit on his consciousness. Looking up at the boxes above, he reasoned that if Sapphire was right about something, he probably didn’t want to know about it.