Page 25 of Court of Treachery

“I thank you, ah…” Aedon bowed, then raised his eyebrow expectantly at the dwarf.

“Jarl Halvar.”

Harper’s eyes widened. He was a dwarven lord.

“My thanks, Jarl Halvar. We shall not delay you any longer. Our own news requires the swiftest passage we can bear.”

“Fall in,” the jarl ordered.

22

HARPER

The world faded in and out once they reached the gates to Keldheim. Harper swayed with exhaustion from one step to the next, forcing her sluggish feet to move and begging her fading mind to stay awake. Before her, a sheer rock face soared into the heavens. Above, low clouds drew in and darkness settled, shrouding the summits. The rock blazed with light, embellished with metal carvings as far as Harper could see. Golden light danced from the stone, making the sea of metal glitter invitingly. Long, slim, octagonal holes punctured the rock at regular intervals, through which more light spilled from the bowels of Keldheim.

Great stone gates rose before them, complete with the same metal details. They barred the way into the heart of the mountain realm, and thudded open to let the company pass. Instantly, the rhythmic tramp of the dwarves’ steps magnified tenfold, echoing as they passed along a high, wide tunnel. Harper and her companions followed the dwarves as the gates boomed shut behind them, sealing them into the mountain.

It was surprisingly light inside. Metal-and-glass lanterns filled with warming glows lined the walls and hung from high ceilings. Harper breathed a sigh of wonder as they stepped fromthe tunnel farther into the mountain. It was as if the entire interior was hollow. Buildings and ways climbed the rock, but none were open to the sky, though far above them all, a great orb of light cast the muted glow of a sunset upon them.

Ducts—some carrying flowing water, others roads and paths—spanned the space upon giant columns that disappeared into the depths. Harper dared to look over the side of the bridge they had emerged onto, but her stomach swooped as she saw just how far down the dwarven city went.

Ragnar wasn’t joking, Harper thought as she recalled how he had told her that Keldheim was vast and sprawling, only a little of it above the level of the ground outside the mountain. Jarl Halvar led them across the terrifying abyss, under which the mountain continued down, filled with dwarven dwellings and buildings built into the very mountain itself. They took another turn onto a sloping ramp that led down one level and then another, until Harper was entirely lost—and when she looked up, could not see where they had entered the mountain.

“Dismissed,” Jarl Halvar called to his troops. They sped up with an extra spring in their step as they broke formation. “You may follow me,” he added to Aedon, Harper, and Erika, his troubled gaze flicking between them. He removed his helmet, revealing a slightly balding head of wiry hair, turned, and led them to a grand pair of doors.

“This is the königshalle, the king’s hall,” he added for their benefit, and Harper was glad. Her companions might already have been familiar with the place to any degree, but already, she felt as though she was drowning, swept away in a tide she could not fight against, into this new place. What ought she to expect here? Would this court be as dark and terrible as Tournai’s? Would the dwarven ruler be as cruel and dangerous as the King of Pelenor? Her nails bit into her palms as she staggered after Aedon with the last of her strength.

At Jarl Halvar’s bidding, guards in uniform much like his own, though with different colours and embellishments woven in, heaved the doors open to reveal a great hall. Tall slits, placed where windows would have been, were filled with what seemed to be a starry night.

“Elven magic,” Aedon murmured to Harper as he walked with her and Erika. “Our gift to the dwarves in ages gone past. Have you met a dwarven king before?”

Harper shook her head.What a preposterous question.She did not have the energy to voice the thought.

“Dwarves respect strength, not delicate flouncing like the elven courts. Fist to your chest when he greets you. Bow at the waist, sharp and neat. Stand tall.”

Harper nodded, committing his instruction to memory.

Halvar stopped before them. They halted abruptly too, their feet crunching the neat mats of woven straw beneath them.

“König Korrin.” Halvar greeted the king exactly as Aedon had instructed Harper to. The king bowed his head in response, but his attention focused upon the three of them—strangers in his domain.

Harper, keeping her eyes lowered in respect, tried to perceive him. A full head of thick, black hair. A beard that tumbled down to his knees but held back in elaborate braids threaded with more treasures than she had ever seen. Tattoos flowed along his hands and the edges of his face, hinting at unfamiliar patterns and runes—just like Ragnar’s. Fine clothes and leathers adorned him, tooled with patterns that matched the gates of Keldheim in both style and metal embellishments, gilded into glorious harmony with those embellishments in his beard. Thick boots gave him a strong, unshakable stance before them as he rose from his angular, carved stone throne.

“Jarl Halvar.” The king’s voice was deep and booming, just like the doors to his realm. “Who do you bring before me? Theelf, I recognise.” He spoke in Common Tongue with fluency, but Harper could not tell by his tone if he said it with fondness or malice.

“König, allow me to present Aedon Lindhir Riel of House Felrian.”

Aedon bowed to the king with his fist to his chest, then stood tall again.

“Harper of Caledan, and Erika of the Indis nomad peoples.”

Harper and Erika bowed, too. Harper’s heart hammered as she did so.

Jarl Halvar spoke in a formal tone. “Welcome to our realm, travellers. The realm of Korrin Dúrnir, König of Dwarvenkin and Valtivar, ninth of his name, the Goblin-Cleaver, the Jewel-Blessed, and the Defender of the Mountain. What seek you?”

Aedon looked to the jarl, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. He cleared his throat. “König, we bring grave news. My companions and I encountered goblins on our journey to Keldheim. One of our companions was taken. We know not where.”

“Ah, yes,” the könig said, nodding. “Your friend, the Aerian, arrived and gave us news of this. Send for him,” he instructed the jarl, who bowed and left.

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