A Knight Falls

         Rud hoisted himself up and sat on a rock wall facing the grand house. The place matched the description given by Dain Low Brow down to the large stained glass windows.
         Rud set a bag of rocks next to him and poured them into a small pile. He selected the smallest one and hurled it at the large stained glass window. The huge mural depicted a knight purveying a battlefield as a slain dragon lay at the hooves of the knight’s stallion. The small rock made a loud crack as it glanced from the window. Rud paused long enough to watch the small stone fall back to earth and lose itself in the tall grass that surrounded this small city castle.
         Again, Rud plucked the smallest stone from the pile and hurled it at the stained glass window. Another crack could be heard, and the sound even echoed down the small courtyard to the castle’s left. Rud’s burly dwarven fingers, again, found the smallest rock in the pile, a rock no larger than the last digit of his thumb. The rock flew from his hand and another crack could be heard. “C’mon now,” he muttered. Rud repeated his actions until the pile dwindled and the remaining rocks rivaled the size of his palm.
         “You there!” A young voice echoed from the courtyard.
         Rud smiled and hurled the rock; it struck the knight’s shield and the glass cracked.
         “You there! Stop that!” The young man, trailed by three others, rushed towards Rud. “What do you think you’re doing?”
         “Removing a disgrace from my sight,” Rud eyed the boy. The hands were muscled but clean, the shoulders stout and he held them as if well accustomed to a warrior’s training. The face still held a touch of impertinence. The three behind the boy were obviously young servants, maybe stable hands, and their bodies bore signs of many a long day’s toil.
         “I command you to stop.”
         Rud lifted a stone and gently palmed it. “And who is it that commands me?”
         “I am Lucien, son of Lukas, and he is earl of Cormint Core and has charge of many warriors.”
         Rud shrugged. “I care not.” He hurled the rock, and it struck the knight’s face.
The three servants raised pitchforks and moved closer to the boy. “Good dwarf,” he said and raised his hand to halt the servants. “Damaging this window would greatly offend me.”
“Its very sight is an offense to all dwarves. I, myself, fed this noble dragon while she grew. Shame would stain my honor and my tribe, it must be destroyed.”
“I will not permit its destruction. The blood of this knight lives in my veins.” The boy placed a hand on the pommel of his long sword, and his eyes narrowed.
Rud lifted another rock.
“Ill-advised,” the boy said. The servants spread out behind the young lord, pitchforks held high, one right, two left. “Very ill-advised.”
Rud stood on the rock wall, barely eye to eye with the young boy. He shifted his gaze across all four of them. As Rud pulled his arm back to hurl the rock the young lord, barely old enough to grow hair on his face, pulled his sword. Rud hurled the rock at the servant on the right and struck his forehead. Rud leaped and somersaulted in the air as the young boy’s blade sliced the air where Rud stood.
Rud landed on a foot and a knee, he pulled his own short sword in time to block a return swing from the young boy. The two eyed each other.
“Fool!” The young lord said. “Four to one, and I have twice your height and reach.”
“Rock face won’t see anything but starts for days, and stable hand are good only for horses.”
“Surround him and stick him.” The two servants moved to flank Rud.
Rud pushed the young boy backwards. His short sword parried the servant’s fork and then flashed across the servant’s thigh. The long diagonal cut split the stained pants and for a brief moment exposed the thighbone to the air before blood gushed and flooded the wound. Rud jumped from the wounded servant in time to dodge the other pitchfork, which stabbed the chest of the wounded servant. Rud grabbed the pitchfork and his short sword flashed again and opened the neck of the remaining servant to fell face first onto the ground. The young boy stood, eyes wide, taking in Rud’s work.
Rud stepped on top of the dead servant, and the boy stepped backwards into the rock wall’s corner.
“I’m sorry the window offends you. I will have it removed.”
Rud said nothing, and a quick parry later, the point of Rud’s blade threatened the boy’s chin.
“I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” the boy’s voice trembled.
“I already have an agreement,” Rud said as he pushed the blade in. The boy slumped and collapsed. Rud wiped the blade on the boy. He jumped upon the rock wall, hefted the last rock and hurled it. The rock struck the metal frame squarely and the glass panes fell from the wounded mural and crashed to the ground. Rud eyed the servant with the wounded thigh. “Make sure you get my description correct, and that the boy drew first.” Rud hopped down the other side of the wall and slipped into the city.
***
Rud used the safe-house entrance, a path through the back of a stable and into a hidden room. Dust motes flitted about the air from the dust Rud disturbed by entering the room. The stockroom shelf held an assortment of spices on high shelves, above a few barrels of ground wheat and sacks of vegetables. Rud opened the oldest barrel revealing fresh ground wheat. Rud pushed his arm slowly into the brownish powder until he felt a wooden latch stem on the barrel’s inside. He pulled the latch and the barrel’s bottom half sprung open. Rud replaced the lid and climbed inside the barrel. He curled into a ball inside the exposed opening, and closed the barrel’s bottom half.
The little bit of daylight in the room, disappeared when he closed the barrel. He pulled a small dagger and held the point close to the barrel’s opening. Men would come looking for him. A killing attracted attention, killing a council member’s son attracted additional attention and additional guard and additional checkpoints. Killing the only heir of the grand councilman would send search parties through the city and countryside looking for an old dwarf. Pity those they found.
Slipping the search party’s net required a few friends. Yet once they passed, time could be spent in relative luxury. A week he figured, maybe two, before things calmed down. Another two before he could be seen outside.
Time spent here would seem more like living in a tomb. An experience best forgotten, but ever so useful. The gold from this job could pay down a sizeable chunk of his debt.
Murder was not particularly desirable to Rud, but the sum offered was difficult to resist especially with how unguarded the boy was in the city. Men of power often made such mistakes. Believing your castle unassailable from within leaves a path for such things. The trouble was escape. A dwarf would stand out anywhere over the next few leagues. Deception was necessary. Rud hated the barrel, felt like a cheap coffin, not the stone sarcophagus he deserved, or at least he used to deserve.
The barrel smelled of grain, even though the miller had taken precautions against the powder seeping in and forcing a sneeze from the dwarf.
He felt regret over boy. Even with four against one, Rud knew his weapons and combat training should be at least double of all four combined. Rud asked not of the reasons, only assurances of escape and promise of payment. The ways of human power made no sense, striking at a man’s legacy was not the way.
He placed his mind at ease, except for the dagger in his hand. The cramped position felt no different from following a hard vein through the mountainside. But those were younger days, nothing he would care to try again in the last two centuries. Even if he were allowed, which he knew he would not be. Save for jubilees and death of immediate family, Rud knew the clan meant he stay away otherwise. Old friends gave him a frosty reception, even those that owed him battle favors.
Hours passed as his thoughts rambled over the last jubilee, and whether he would bother to attend the next. Many young dwarves do not recognize him, and once they relate him to the deed they shun him. No matter. Rud swore again, silently parting his lips, that the debt would be paid while he breathed.
He heard the door creak open. He fingered his dagger and waited to spring from the barrel, but hoped he would not have to. Hearing footsteps through the barrel’s hull proved near impossible, even if he could lay an ear on the inner wall. He gripped the dagger tight as whoever moved about rapped on his barrel.
“Many in the city search for a dwarf. They will come here soon. I will do my best to persuade them to move along, but my talent is running a store, not in games of the tongue. If they find you, I know I will share your noose. If I must bribe them to move on, I expect additional coin.”
“I will pay the bribes.” He unlatched the barrel and let two gold coins drop to the floor.
Rud considered the man’s words for only the time until he heard the door close. Treachery, a sure double cross, was the way of humans. Every one of them would sell out their clan for a handful of gold coins. Rud had no doubts that the city guard was searching for him, and the councilman, stricken with grief over his son, has given as many threats of retribution as entreaties of fat purses, and appointments of power for Rud’s head.
Rud lifted the crude wooden latch from inside the barrel. The barrel’s bottom half opened and Rud peered out looking for signs of men. None were here.
In the darkened gloom of the room Rud could clearly make our foodstuffs that kept an inn busy. Sack of potatoes lay next to barrels of flour, canisters of spices, and vegetable bins felled with squash, carrots, onions, and various other tubers. Rud could sense a rot in this room, nothing was fresh and bits of last year’s harvest were scattered about, kicked to the corners, forgotten amid the clutter of the room. “Of all the hardships I face, human food is by far the cruelest.”
Rud pulled his dagger and carefully unraveled the stitching on a large sack of potatoes. He pulled potatoes from it and stuffed them into the bottom of the barrel. The barrel’s latch clicked loudly as it snapped into place. He pulled a touch of flour from the top of the barrel and dusted the floor to cover his tracks. He slipped into the potato sack and began using his dagger as a needle to sew up the bag.
He waited. He breathed easier, and the sack allowed him to stretch more than the wooden coffin of the barrel. He slept in between the times the cooks and servants retrieved foodstuffs. The movement became rhythmic and Rud began to listen for the differences in sound. There was the light touch of a female who grunted every time she closed the door, the boy who dragged his feet, and the buffoon for the many times he dropped things.
But as the door slammed open, he knew this was certainly the city guard. The clink of swords confirmed it. He pulled his dagger and slit a hole so he could see out.
A storeroom, lighted by lamps, with two ways out: a hidden floor entrance and the door where all the guardsmen stood. Liars and cheats, all of them he thought. Rud disliked working with humans. Common cause and a clan’s camaraderie were unknown here, every man for himself.
The same voice that asked for more gold could be heard in the distant hall. “Why sir,” Rud heard the voice exclaim. “It is only when I heard the terrible news that I suspected. A merchant that I’ve seen on very rare occasion offered me this barrel at a very favorable price. Very favorable. I thought myself lucky to buy a barred of milled wheat flour. The merchant said he was in a hurry to depart and did not want to burden his miles with the extra load as he climbed the Coridean hills. Afraid of breaking the cart’s axle I presume. Anyway, I have summoned you as soon as I heard, as soon as I heard!”
Rud saw the man slip a thick belt around the barrel.
“When shall I have my reward? Times have been hard, I’ve debts to settle, debts to settle.”
“You will appear at dusk in the councilman’s courtyard. He will deal with you then.” Rud was sure the unseen voice was a city guard commander because a voice so firm and sure had given many a command. It was not the firmness as much as the boredom of the situation, a voice that knew his ears must endure many blithering exclamations, empty oaths of fealty, and shrieks from family.
The barrel was thrown on its side and rolled out. Rud heard the guard members cry out about the success of their mission, and the rewards that would follow. Rud wasted no time slicing the sack open and stepping out. He stuffed the half-empty sack with whatever vegetables were at hand and folded the sack so it looked full, then slipped through the trap door.
Rud waited in the tunnel for nightfall. The inn and the street fell silent, few moved about. Rud presumed they would all be at the councilman’s courtyard. Rud smiled thinking of the disappointment when potatoes fell out of the barrel instead of a dwarf. Rud moved in the night and scrambled up the side of the inn and slipped in the innkeeper’s open window. He strolled about the room. Many a fine object glittered in the available light, none that were worth more than a couple of gold coins—except for the liquor cabinet. His fingers found a flask of elven apple cidre. “Maybe this innkeeper and I could be fine friends.” He pulled the cork and took a long pull. The fruity concoction tickled his throat, filled him with a sense of the forest, and a warm alcoholic chill took his spine with a vicious tingle. “Too bad I’m going to kill the bastard,” he held the bottle up again and swallowed the rest of it. He grimaced as he realized his throat claimed the flask. “Elves know cidre.”
Rud fumbled about for another bottle, this time a cognac. Rud did not know from where but could tell the quality was better than average, but not by much.
From the window Rud heard a great sigh of disappointment, as if the courtyard crowd now knew his secret. Rud smiled and lifted the bottle, toasted the night and his health. He sat down in the innkeeper’s chair and waited in the dark with a dagger.
Tobias T. Crebbs stood, jaw open, the same as everyone else in the councilman’s courtyard. The barrel’s door was opened wide and instead of a dwarf tumbling out, a few dozen potatoes lay sprawled about the ground.
He began to sense people looking at him. Their eyes searched him for an answer. He himself could not think of one. Obviously the dwarf was not here. The barrel that should have held an undersized assassin held naught but potatoes. A guard ripped the fat purse of gold coins from his belt. Tobias drew back in shock from the sudden grab.
“Where’s the dwarf?” a voice called from the assembled crowd. He knew most of the faces, and felt exposed at explaining his barrel’s trick. He hated sharing the tricks of his trade, but the purse size offered by the councilman was too large to resist. The councilman’s grief could be felt in the heft of the gold purse he offered. The sum grew higher and higher as Tobias reasoned out a lie to claim the fat purse. His mind had spent much of the gold: repairs for the dining hall, another pot for the fireplace, and more mugs for feast days, not to mention new rooms.
“I swear I heard a dwarven voice come from the barrel.” And his hand had felt the two gold coins dropped from the barrel. “My lord, humbly forgive my error. It must be witchery that affects me.”
A glare set about the councilman, and Tobias felt it crawl all over his face. It did not help that the councilman’s eyes were pale blue and naturally frosty. Tobias repeated his pleas, and kept repeating them until the councilman finally walked away. As others followed the councilman’s lead, he felt the tension in his chest relax, and he took a deep breath.
A hand slapped his back, nettles of pain sprung up. “You’re a fool Tobias,” he heard.
He spun around to find Nashim the stable master wagging a finger at him. The man reeked of sweat, stable work, and horses. “Harsh words, master Nashim. I was in error, an honest error.”
“The councilman didn’t believe you, neither did I. Mark my words, once he’s done with his search, he will come for you.” Nashim wagged his finger at Tobias, “a man flaunting that much gold will have ways.”
With little thought, Tobias’ mind arrived at the same conclusion. Understanding and forgiveness were not strong qualities of the councilman’s ancestry. In fact, those that opposed his house found a ruthless opponent. But surely he would not suspect that he harbored the dwarf… maybe it mattered not. The young boy was his only progeny.
Nashim spoke many words as was the way of stablemen. Nashim, worst of the lot, was not known to restrain his tongue with courtesies. But the words made sense, and Tobias suspected grief might drive the councilman to rash action. With the town all stirred up looking for the dwarf, and the fat purse still seeking a palm, Tobias decided the risk to remain in town was too high and hurried from the courtyard.
The courtyard’s rough cobblestones soon gave way to dirt cart paths as Tobias made his way back to the inn. A deal with a dwarf, how could he have been so stupid? The answer came faster, his beloved Lady Titia. Her taste for elven apple cidre, fine cloth, jewels, and parties had consumed most of his fortune before she left in the night. “Witch,” he said. Night would fall soon, but today’s sun still held light enough to rent a room in Strapsburg… if he hurried.

***

Rud would know Tobias just for his face, but he spotted the man long before he could make out Tobias’ face. The nervous gait and the number of times he looked behind gave the man away. A slight grin spread across his face. “Double dealing is dirty work.” Rud readied his sandbag, a sandbag the length of his arm but only the last finger length held sand, knotted in place. The rest of its length appeared as an ordinary long sock. He let it hang by his side, and moved it only in a slight swirl just enough to keep some momentum in it.
Tobias’ footfalls could be heard long before the door opened. The man was too preoccupied to check the room. From its gentle swirl, Rud spun up the sandbag and aimed for Tobias’ head. It was a quick silent thud on the head, a much larger thunk as Tobias fell onto the floor, clearly unconscious. Rud let the door silently close, and slid the bolt into place.
Rud bound Tobias. Hands and feet were tied to the opposing limb, then the limbs together. He slipped a gag into Tobias’ mouth, careful to ensure the man still breathed. Atop the bound hands and feet, Tobias balanced an empty bottle. Rud sat back in the innkeeper’s chair, and finished off the bottle of cognac as sleep claimed him.

***

Tobias woke. His head throbbed. There was a tug on his face as he lifted it from the floor as if something peeled off. Blood. Lots of it dried and pooled. His he presumed. Thoughts came with difficulty. He remembered the courtyard and hurrying back, then watching the floor rise to greet his face and the blackness that prevented his arms from rising to save him.
He could not feel his feet or hands, but his shoulders throbbed. Confused, but Tobias figured things out when he felt the gag that prevented him from speaking. Chills ran through him, Nashim was right. His eyes looked about and he was sure this was his room. Then he spotted the shoes, barely sticking out from his chair. Throbbing head or not, he knew it was the dwarf. And he knew this was bad, very bad.
Tobias listened. The dwarf breathed rhythmically. In, out. Again. Once more. Again. In, out. Sleep had the dwarf; Tobias hoped for escape. He rolled onto his side and heard a loud thump followed by a series of small bumps. He froze. The dwarf’s breathing changed.
“An empty bottle of cognac is quite handy. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, and hoped I didn’t strike you too hard.”
Tobias grunted as best as he could with the gag in his mouth. He reared his head and saw the dwarf’s legs approach him.
“I feel you betrayed me. This upsets me.”
Tobias shook his head vehemently. And a series of grunts came out.
“So I am mistaken about what my own ears heard as you sold me to the city guard?”
Again Tobias issued a series of grunts.
“Shut up, shut up. I can’t make out what you’re saying.” The dwarf knelt down and looked Tobias in the eye. “I’m going to take the gag from your mouth. Talk in anything above a whisper and I’ll cut your tongue from your face.”
Tobias felt his head nod. There would be a time to call for help, but this would not be it. He had an explanation for the dwarf, he knew he did. Everything had good reason. His thoughts were running madly in his mind as he glimpsed the dwarf’s dagger.
“Just so we understand each other.” The dwarf’s hand clenched his hair and raised his head while the dagger stroked his face.
Tobias remained silent, but his breathing became rapid and shallow.
“I’ll get some water.” He released Tobias’s hair.
The sudden release did not surprise Tobias completely, and he was able to keep his face off the floor this time. The dwarf returned with a bowl of water and placed it in front of Tobais’ face.
“Hold your breath. In you go.”
Tobias felt the dwarf push his face into the water bowl. The dwarf released his head momentarily, not the long minute Tobias expected from the situation.
“Again, I remind you of your voice.”
This time the dagger graced his face. He could hear the cloth separate in response to the dagger’s tip. The gag felt loose, and Tobias pushed the wad of cloth from his mouth with his tongue. He had barely drawn breath when the dwarf shoved his face into the water bowl again.
“Rinse out your mouth. I don’t care if you spit or swallow, but I want to clearly hear you whisper lies to me.”
Tobias did as the dwarf bid. He spit globs of clotted blood into the bowl, and rinsed. Finally the dwarf pulled his head up, and looked him in the eye. Tobias drew breath and hissed, “Fool. We are in great danger!”

***

“Brave words for someone in your position,” Rud said as he stared into Tobias. Despite the water, gooey blood still clung to his face, and his eyes flashed about wildly.
“The city guard will come for me, and then they will find you. You must release me so we can escape together.”
“I was working my escape until someone pointed out my hiding spot to the city guard.”
Tobias’ eyes whirled around and searched Rud’s right side. “A servant betrayed us. He must’ve overheard us.”
“Trust is the problem here Tobias. You don't have any. How is it humans sell their word, their bond so easily?” Rud leaned over, his mouth close to Tobias' ear and stroked his hair. “Speak true. That big sigh I heard last night... that was you relieved for my safety?” After a moment’s silence, Rud harrumphed. “Most folk cannot tell a really good lie. Some can, and their words twist and turn and all believe many a strange thing. You though, you’re not that good.”
    The dwarf’s gentle words cut hard. For a moment, in his mind’s eye, Tobais saw again the potatoes fall from the barrel... “That changes nothing now,” he said after a inhaling a lungful of courage. “Councilman Lukas will come for me. He'll surround my inn with hundreds of men and he'll find you too. This is my inn. I can supply things: cart, a horse, wares to hide you.”
    “More trust? Was it not enough that I look the fool once?”
    “You needn't trust me, don't leave me here, just take me with you... I don't see as we have much choice, Councilman Lukas will force our hand. We need to leave now, sir I urge haste. Now, we need to leave now. While there is time, while there is time.”
    “Food first. Call the maid servant. We need a large plate of food.”
         “Food? You know the time that will waste? We need haste!”
    “Food first,” Rud said calmly.
    After an incredulous look, Tobias told Rud where to pull the cord that rang the bell that summoned the maidservant. In short order Rud heard the footsteps down the hall. He flashed his dagger before Tobias' eyes and whispered, “Just so we understand each other.” A knock on the door followed.
    Tobias raised his voice, and it quivered, “I wish a feast. Bring me—”
    Rud pressed his dagger upon Tobias' throat. "Any warning, anything curious about your food, any word sign and I will open your throat long before anyone arrives."
    Tobias nodded. “We escape together. Together.”
    Tobias again raised his voice. “Bring me my three favorites, and bring them in grand portions.”
    “Yes my lord,” came the response from the door.
    “And leave it by the door,” Rud whispered to Tobias.
    “And leave it by the door,” Tobias said to the servant.
    “Sir?”
    Tobias shot Rud a worried glance... “I feel unwell and I wish to see no one.”
    “As you bid,” the voice replied.
***
    The time passed with Tobias chatting up their escape, always both of them together until the servant's knock interrupted. “Sir, I have your favorites as you desire.”
    “Leave it, please. I wish to see no one.” Tobias bellowed.
    The footsteps trailed down the hall. Rud opened the door and pulled the cart in. He sighed after a quick scan. The cart held simple fare: greasy bits of potatoes mixed with the local waterfowl, chilled goat's milk, dried tack dumplings, a green sauce of weeds and mushrooms, plus a few other things Rud was none too certain of. Rud grew more disgusted as he looked at the plate.
    “That smells really good. I'm hungry, very hungry. I could go for a bite myself,” Tobias said. He craned his neck to look up at the cart, but his bonds still held him fast. Even tried rocking on his belly.
    “Just a moment,” Rud walked over, and stood over Tobias. He pulled out the sandbag and slammed it into Tobias' skull. Tobias” head again thudded on the floor. “That's for having lousy favorites.”
    Rud picked at the food, never enjoying any part of it. He pulled a feathered pen from its inkwell and began to write on a scroll. In large letters he wrote The dwarf confesses and a few more words. He rolled it and laid it where Tobias could see it. Rud then turned his attention to a large blank wall just out of Tobias' sight.

***

    Tobias woke again. Head throbbing more than the last time. From the long shadows he could tell night approached. The food smelled stale. He looked around as best as he could but saw no signs of the dwarf. He called out softly, but heard nothing but silence.
    On the ground before him he spotted the scroll. His heart leapt as he read the words twice, thrice before he stopped and suspected a trick. He snickered softly thinking his troubles over. He stopped. A test, the dwarf must be testing me. This cannot be.
    “Hey.” He called in a conversational tone. Still silence. “No need to anger the councilman with a confession. No need to say anything. C'mon now. We're supposed to leave together.”
    “Hey!” He called out strongly. He craned his neck looking to and fro, but seeing only part of the room. Still silence.
    The curtains rustled from a slight breeze. “Hey!” he yelled with all his strength. “Hey!”
    “Who calls?” came a voice from the street.
    “Help me. I've been assailed.”
    Tobias looked around the room expecting the dwarf's dagger to suddenly appear, but still nothing. “Assailed I tell you.” His heart bust with relief, a confession and life. Nashim is the fool, not I. Not I.
    He heard many footfalls in the hall. “Here! I am here! Break the door if you must. Free me! Free me from my bonds.” The door opened without the large crash Tobias expected. “Here,” he said looking up at the city guard. “I've been assailed. Here, before me, the scoundrel's confession.”
    The guard though said nothing, but whispered to another guard who promptly went from the room.
    “Release me!” Tobias commanded. “I cannot feel my hands and legs.”

***

    By the time more guards returned, Tobias was quite cross with the remaining guard. Tobias saw the guard's commander enter the room. “Thank the stars!” He flashed a triumphant glare and the guard and addressed the commander. “Sir, this fool has seen fit to—“
    “Silence,” the commander spoke with a firm voice that left Tobias sputtering. He fingered the scroll, “You realize the importance of such a confession?”
    “Yes, yes, I do. It will vindicate me. All shall see that I am true. True I tell you.”
    “Councilman Lukas will arrive in haste. Given the loss of his son, I feel it important he see with his own eyes. I fear he may be given to rash conclusions, and a foul temperament.”
    “Surely there is no need to leave me tied so? My good sir.” Tobias let out a small laugh. “Sir, I am but a simple innkeeper, I—”
    “Councilman Lukas will judge for himself. With this confession I think we have all that is necessary to testify to your honor. You wouldn't want to leave him with doubt now would you?”
    Tobias thought it over, and reluctantly said, “No. I suppose not.” The surety of the commander’s voice and the man’s calm left Tobias without words. The confession, the room, his bonds, the bloodstains on the floor, all of these things flashed in his mind. Proof, good proof. He began to feel sorry for ever troubling the dwarf. Couldn't blame him for leaving this way. Suppose he couldn't trust me again. He escapes. I am restored. Clever dwarf. Clever, clever dwarf. Tobias relaxed. Hoof beats clattered on the cobblestones.
    “Escort him in,” the commander ordered.
    The strong, urgent footfalls in the hall Tobias could only presume to be the councilman. Tobias braced himself. In his mind he began rehearsing his words to the councilman.
    The man stopped abruptly in the doorway. Tobias did not look up past the councilman's knees. The man moved slowly as if unsure of his footsteps.
    “The scroll my lord.” The commander handed the confession over.
    After a quick read, “Raise him,” the councilman spoke softly.
    “No need. Cut my bonds. I can stand by myself.”
    The guards lifted Tobias despite his protests, and his eyes fell on the far wall that had been hidden from his eyes by the bed. A small green handprint stood out against the whitewash. Carved letters could be read. The innkeeper traded a hiding place for gold after I killed the boy.
    “What trickery is this?” Tobias sputtered and squirmed at the bonds that held him fast. “The scroll, he confessed.”
    “I cannot make out what the scroll says. It is written in a dwarvish tongue,” the commander said.
    The councilman cleared his throat, “It says, “Treachery is a cruel mistress.””
    “This be witchery. Witchery I tell you!” Tobias looked into the councilman's eyes. Pale blue, frosty, and no sign of warmth in them. “I would do not such thing I tell you.” But the eyes seemed even more distant than before. More lies spewed from his mouth until a guard kicked Tobias' jaw with the strength of a mule. Several teeth fell out when he opened his mouth.
    “Don't worry,” said the councilman. “You won't need them again.”



*** I hope you enjoyed this story. Feedback is welcome. ***