Jordi Villalobos

The Invasion Of The Sombers


Скачать книгу

any dwarf could react, Syriel unsheathed his sword with superhuman speed and held it threateningly to the dwarf monarch's neck. It was a moment of extreme tension, the dwarves targeted orcs and humans with their crossbows and axes and, in response, humans and orcs drew their swords and weapons.

      Ankar, with a furtive drop of sweat slipping down his cheek, raised his hand slowly, giving orders to lower the weapons. While the dwarves obeyed, Syriel faced the dwarf king.

      "Your prince comes to ask for shelter, food and escort through the Peaks Pass and does not come with filthy beasts but with allies, friends and a future wife. If you do not willingly offer us what we need, it will be taken by force, and if you do not immediately retract your infamous words, do not welcome all my companions, and do not appropriately pay homage to my fiancée, your head will roll at your feet before you take the next breath. I never wield my sword without staining it with blood, but being you, I will accept your apologies if you are diligent," threatened Syriel without hesitation and with a determination that brought the daring sovereign to his knees and left him almost breathless.

      Ankar swallowed saliva loudly and, in the midst of copious sweat, apologized.

      "Forgive my haste and be welcome, especially the lady and fiancée of our prince," he hastened to say, repressing the rage.

      Syriel accepted the apology, sheathing the sword with slowness.

      "Another precipitation like that will cost you your life," he said. "Take care that it does not happen again in the future. Now, the enemy are the sombers and the orcs are our brothers," warned the prince with less hostility, but with the same firmness.

      "Welcome, all of you," repeated the dwarf, lowering his head.

      "We'll have dinner, we'll make night and early tomorrow we'll leave for Peaks Pass. Fifty dwarves will escort us to the exit to the Badlands," ordered the prince coldly.

      "This is how it will be done, my prince. We have prepared a reception bench for you," masked Ankar, with a forced kindness.

      Orcs and men entered Karbandur. Meanwhile, Baldrich passed by Syriel.

      "Let us watch our backs, a proud dwarf like Ankar neither forgives nor forgives such a humiliation," warned the elf in a whisper, with worried conviction.

      Smolion and Gungaroth walked beside Ankar looking at him with manifest hostility and, although they found it difficult to recognize him, they began to feel sympathy and admiration for Syriel.

      In the main hall of the fortress was prepared a sumptuous banquet with all sorts of delicacies, as well as wines and beers brought from the most famous origins. Dwarves, men and orcs sat around the tables in an atmosphere of palpable tension. Syriel and Lirieth were placed right next to Ankar and only when the dwarf began to eat and drink, Syriel also began to do so, though taking care that they were from the same sources of food and the same pitchers of drink. But, little by little, the food and especially the wines and beers gave way to laughter, chants and talks to replace the initial tension.

      Syriel found Garin, Ankar's son, with whom he had got on very well, and asked his father about him.

      "I don't see your son. Isn't he in Karbandur?"

      "Well, I'm sorry to say no. He is far from here; I saw his uncle and his cousins in Kandar. He will be very sorry not to have been here to see you," apologized Ankar.

      "I'm sorry too," added the prince.

      Ankar avoided putting his eyes within Syriel's reach as he replied, but he couldn't avoid Baldrich's, who stared at him for a while with a semblance of deep concern.

      After a moment, when the copious food and drink was beginning to run out, Syriel looked at his host.

      “I would appreciate it if you could indicate our rooms to rest, we have been travelling for many days and tomorrow we’ll have to continue it,” asked the prince with courtesy, although without ceasing to show an imperative tone.

      “We have prepared comfortable beds for everyone, I will send them to accompany you," replied the dwarf without too much enthusiasm.

      They accompanied them to a spacious room, very well-conditioned, with enough beds for all the warriors, as well as several individual rooms for the highest rank entourage. The princess' room was arranged in detail.

      However, Syriel ordered guard duty, as he had not just trusted Ankar and sensed that something was not right, as did Baldrich, who was convinced that something would happen during the night.

      Bellamir left the room where her companions were accommodated in their beds. Baldrich had asked him to take a look around and, if possible, to search the dungeons for a certain Garin, release him and bring him before him without being discovered by the dwarves.

      The médium man dredged the path made shortly before, supposing that the dungeons would be at the underground levels. He soon found a ladder and descended. Luckily, no one came across him, as there was no possibility of hiding or going unnoticed on the staircase.

      The mediam man continued descending until he reached a level where he began to hear voices.

      “I don't like it at all: Garin rebels against his father, Ankar confronts the humans, the prince stopping over here while his host's son is locked up for being loyal to him, before his own father… This won't end up well....

      He peered out stealthily and saw several corridors with dungeon doors and two dwarves turning their backs on some of those runners as they played a game in which they rolled something similar to dice.

      The rogue snuck down the first corridor and looked for Garin, calling him with just a whisper, until he heard a voice.

      “I'm Garin. Who's going?” the voice whispered, hopeful.

      “Your Highness, I have come with Prince Syriel, I am going to free you and bring you before him," replied the mediam fellow with relief.

      “Hurry, there's no time to lose…" said the captive prince.

      In just a few seconds, using his set of picklocks, the skillful rascal opened the door with barely an imperceptible click.

      “I beg you to follow me quietly, Your Highness," Bellamir asked to the dwarf prince.

      Shortly afterwards, two silent sombers climbed up the narrow and gloomy staircases.

      Baldrich woke up the prince.

      “Wake up Syriel! We have a visitor. It's only three hours till dawn and we need a plan.”

      When the prince opened his eyes, besides seeing Baldrich and Bellamir, he also recognized his friend Garin.

      “Garin! Weren't you in Kandar?” Syriel burst with joy.

      “No, he was locked in the dungeons with those who are still loyal to you. My father has prepared an enclosure for you with the dark ones in the Peaks Pass. Bellamir has rescued me, but all my dwarves are missing," said Garin regretfully.

      “I suspected something strange and I sent Bellamir to take a look. He found Garin locked up, freed him and brought him here," Baldrich explained.

      “The situation is very delicate, let's wake up the princess and her generals," ordered Syriel.

      Once all gathered and after bringing up to date to the newcomers, Syriel asked:

      “Garin, how many dwarfs are locked up?”

      “One thousand and five hundred," replied Garin.

      “How many dwarfs does your father have in Karbandur?" asked the human prince.

      “More than ten thousand, but a thousand really faithful. The rest will follow my father or me, depending on who holds the power," blessed Garin.

      “How many dark men are preparing the ambush?” asked Syriel.

      “About five hundred, but they're not a problem. I know where they are and we can catch them by surprise. I'm more worried about my father," he declared with sincere