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not obtain the assistance of neighboring dwarf cities. The forces of Dunop would stand alone.

Yet, he abandoned all hope of making Yave see this point. There was little he could do or say to convince her. If he resisted her orders, she would call for his execution. He would be forced to remove her from power. Subsequent events became clear. Royalists that accepted the separatists because of the queen would revolt. They would be embroiled in a civil war. Neighboring dwarf cities may then interfere, but not on the side of the separatists. They would seize the opportunity to restore pure monarchy to Dunop. The separatists would surely be defeated and their cause destroyed forever.

There was but one hope Strog could seize upon. If Yave could be pacified with a small strike upon the elves of Dark Spruce and one human village, he may yet keep his army intact without inviting major reprisals. The humans will not know where to attack and the elves may be too confused to understand what is actually happening. If he was lucky, he could regroup his army and send them to finish off the algors before they truly allied in force against him. It was thus now to his advantage to uncover the very knowledge Yave desired. He needed to narrow the possible human target sites as well as uncover any information as to possible dwarf traitors that might warn the elves.

Strog turned from Yave, exasperated but intent on obtaining what he needed to know. He swung the cell door back open and again stepped back inside. He pulled the door shut before Yave could accompany him. Best to leave her outside where her tirades would not deter the success of the interrogation.

Jon remained standing. He stared contentedly at the floor. He showed no response to the opening of his cell door and made no acknowledgment of Strog’s return.

The War Com considered how to bring Jon back to a susceptible state, to place the dethroned king into the trance that made questioning more permissive. Strog whispered words and phrases that he hoped would recall the trance.

“Sanctum. Ryson Acumen. The elves, Lief Woodson and Holli Brances. They wish to be with you again.”

“Sanctum?” Jon closed his eyes in anguish. He thought of the dark hollow mountain, how it claimed the life of his brother. The pain began to clear his mind.

Strog cursed under his breath at his own error. He struggled to correct it. “The delver, Ryson Acumen. He saved the land. Do you not wish to see him?”

Jon opened his eyes. He looked to the War Com. There was no trance. He recognized Strog immediately, a leader of the separatists, an enemy to the throne. He recalled the last few moments. He knew his mother was in his cell, guessed she was now waiting outside. The ex-king bristled with animosity.

“What is it you really want? What is it your queen wants?”

Yave threw open the cell door. The resoluteness of Jon’s voice disturbed the War Com, but it enraged the queen.

“I want to know everything about the delver Ryson Acumen.”

“Why?”

“You will tell me what I want to know!”

“Why?” Jon repeated. He stood straight and defiant. For only the second time since Bol left, he appeared as a king.

His resolve enraged the queen. Yave shrieked. “Because I command it.”

Jon almost laughed. “You? You command me? I am either a king or I’m a condemned dwarf. No matter which way you look at it, I do not have to take your orders. Since my removal from the throne was illegal and immoral, I will not recognize your rule, and I do not take commands.”

Jon turned his back on his mother. He thought of Bol, how he turned his back on all of Dunop. He almost smiled at the irony.

“You will tell me!” Yave bellowed.

Jon’s back responded the same as his front. “Why?”

Strog interrupted strongly. “The delver has made an attempt to interfere with us. We wish to know why.”

“What has he done?”

Strog grumbled. He was supposed to be asking the questions, not answering them. Still, he needed the information.

“He was in the desert, heading toward the algors. He was going to warn them of our attack. You believed he was a friend of yours. If he is a friend, why would he take the algors’ side over ours?”

“Probably because he knows your cause is unjust.”

Strog saw an opening, a way to trick Jon into saying more than he should. He moved carefully. “The delver would not take sides otherwise?”

“Of course not.”

“You know him that well?”

“Well enough.”

“So he would wish to help the algors against the dwarves only because, as you put it, we are being unjust.”

Jon nodded.

“Why would he think our cause is unjust?”

“Because he knows the algors had nothing to do with…” He could not say his brother’s name. “The algors did nothing to invite an attack against them.”

Jon became tired. He had not had to think much over the past few days. If anything, he avoided contemplation while he embraced the welcome oblivion of his cell. Strog was forcing him to recall painful memories. He did not wish to continue the conversation.

Strog, however, pressed the weakness of his opponent. “You might hold the algors blameless, but you can not deny that they had much to do with your brother’s death. After all, they created the sand giant that killed him.”

Jon did not answer. He walked back to his stone bed. He threw himself down upon it heavily, his back still to the queen and the War Com.

Yave was about to demand answers, but Strog held his hand up for her to remain quiet. Amazingly, she obeyed. She watched curiously as Strog continued to build the web that would ensnare the answers he desired.

“So, the delver may agree with you that the algors were not at fault. He would argue your cause?”

Ryson’s face etched itself in Jon’s thoughts. Yes, the delver would argue for him, would argue for the algors. That was the answer. With a spark of hope, Jon turned to face Yave. He spoke to her, not to Strog.

“You blame me, you blame the algors, but you are wrong. Ryson would know that. Ask him.”

“He would lie.” Yave spat out before Strog could stop her.

“No, he wouldn’t. He did everything he could to save the land, to save everyone, including the dwarves. You would have to believe him.”

“We can not talk to him,” Strog interrupted and then quickly pressed a question for information he wanted. “We do not know where to find him. We do not even know where to look. Do you?”

“But you said you knew he was in the desert hoping to warn the algors.”

“The delver forced a small party of dwarves at a listening post to retreat. He did not stop to explain his actions or tell us where he would be. I imagine he has returned to his home. I do not know where that is.”

Jon searched his memory. It caused him pain, but he recalled such facts which he unwittingly revealed to his captor. “He lived in Connel. That’s where we met before we went to Sanctum. He also said something about Burbon. He said he had to go there to explain things to some humans.”

Strog nodded appreciatively. Two targets, not dozens. Connel was large, fitted with a human army according to his own information, but Burbon was small and relatively unprotected.

Jon clung to his hope. He turned his attention back to Yave. “You will talk to Ryson. He will tell you, tell you it was the sphere, not the algors, and not me.”

Strog placed himself in between Jon and the queen. He still needed more information. He could not afford to have the queen force an end to this conversation. He spoke quickly before Yave could respond on her own.

“He may do that, then again he may not. As I said, the last we saw of this delver friend of yours, he was attempting to help the algors against us. I still don’t know why he would do that.”

“Because he knows what you’re doing is wrong?”

“How would he know exactly what we’re doing or why? He has not been to Dunop. How can you say he knows our intentions or our reasons?”

“He would hear of it. He is a delver. He thirsts for information.”

“But how would he come about information like that? It doesn’t make any sense to me. Unless of course you think he was spying on us? And if he was, why would he?”

“He wouldn’t spy,” Jon insisted. “He probably heard rumors.”

Strog spoke quickly, pressing the matter to a head. “But this is not a rumor. He knew of a fact, he knew of our plans to attack. You ask us to speak to him, to allow him to convince us the algors deserve no blame. But how can we trust him, if it seems as if he has knowledge of secret plans? What if he had warned the algors? Many dwarves would have died. You have to explain how he knew this before we can trust any of his own explanations.”

“I don’t know how he found out. There were probably dwarves who told the elves.”

“Why would dwarves tell elves of our plans?”

“Because it’s wrong to attack the algors.” Jon was going in circles. He was confused, exasperated.

“Do you know how far-fetched that sounds? Dwarves warning elves about our plans involving algors? I would never believe it. The delver must have been spying on us, thus he is an unreliable source of information.”

“It’s not far-fetched.”

“It is! What dwarf would do such a thing as reveal secrets to the elves? Name one?”

The question hung in the air. It went unanswered. Again, only for a moment, Jon’s mind lost its confusion and Strog’s desire was clear to Jon. He wanted names, names of dwarves he could list as traitors and publicly execute. Jon thought of Hern, his friend, his advisor, pierced through the heart because he condemned the actions of the true traitors. Jon knew, knew if he spoke a single name, he would condemn that dwarf to death. For the first time since being thrown in this cell, he felt that familiar twinge in his stomach. He felt the burden of knowing too much. He shook his head at Strog.

“No. I won’t give you want you want. If you want to hang traitors, look no further than a mirror. And hang those that helped you.” He looked to Yave. “Hang her as well.”

Strog saw the conviction in Jon’s expression. He would say no more. It didn’t matter. He had gained enough. He had learned of the delver’s territory. He would not have to spread his army thin to meet Yave’s cravings for vengeance. He led the queen out of the cell and relocked the door.

Jon was left to his emptiness; an emptiness he wished had remained unbroken.

#

At Yave’s order, Strog assembled his generals, and the queen addressed them with unyielding demands.

“The algors are not alone in their assault against us,” she declared wild-eyed and snarling. “We have been targeted by others. It seems as if the elves of Dark Spruce are not happy with our arrangements. Perhaps they believe if we won’t trade with them, they will simply steal from us. If you doubt me, know this; two elves were found trying to warn the algors of our plans. The only reason for this is obvious. They wish to gain allies in hopes of restoring their power over us. We will not allow this. Their interference is as much a declaration of war.”

The dwarf generals murmured. They

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