Page 169 of Of Empires and Dust

“Why didn’t you lead with this? If it truly is a Portal Heart, we may have found our access to the world outside.”

“Because it’s not that simple, dear sister. Hoffnar’s patrols are spreading wider since we broke you free. We must take every precaution not to lead them to the city. Besides, we still don’t know if the Portal Heart is operational. The chamber had collapsed in on itself. We found bodies amongst the rubble. Both dwarves and humans bearing the colours of Belduar, along with hundreds of kerathlin. By the looks of it, the city had become a nest. At least we now know what happened.”

Kira drew a long breath. She had seen dwarves torn to pieces by kerathlin in her earlier years, heard thatclick-clackreverberating through the tunnels, watched those black claws tear through flesh. It was a horrible way to die. “What of the nest now? Surely, you’re not recovering the Portal Heart with a swarm of kerathlin around you?”

“We’re not sure why, but every one of those horrid little bastards is gone. It’s almost as though something scared them away.”

“Or called them,” one of the Ozryn dwarves added. “There’s been rumblings of strange kerathlin movements throughout the Freehold. Outposts overrun, Wind Tunnels swarmed. It’s Hoffnar. The forge fires in Volkur are running day and night, and it’s not weapons or armour they’re producing. It’s giant bells – of a sort – built onto movable platforms.”

“Bells?” Kira did all she could to keep the scepticism from her voice, but it was a difficult thing to mask. “May I ask your name?”

“Drekker, Your Majesty. And I understand what it sounds like. But the kerathlin, as you know, are sensitive to sound. It’s how they move in the dark. It can’t be a coincidence. Hoffnar is scheming. And we would do well to know his plans."

“On that we most certainly agree, Drekker. If he is breathing, he is scheming. Erani?”

Kira’s sister nodded in agreement. “I can send word to our eyes and ears. But there is another thing that requires our attention also.”

Kira raised a curious eyebrow.

“It’s been centuries since any dwarf alive has laid eyes on Vindakur – or on a Portal Heart, for that matter. Even if we can unearth the remainder of the rings, we need someone who understands it. There is an old engineer we’ve tracked down. A scholar of Hafaesir. Without him we may never get the portals operational, or we may walk through them blindly without any understanding of what we are facing.”

“Then bring him here.”

“Wonderful idea, sister. Truly. I understand why you wear the crown… Actually, we’re going to have to get you a new crown – a task for another day. Unfortunately, as nothing in this life isever simple or straightforward, the scholar in question – Rikber Lars – is Volkuran and resides deep within the city. I am already arranging his extraction, but much like that of the Portal Heart, it is a delicate matter. With any luck, once we place him in front of a genuine Portal Heart, his love for his scholarly endeavours will outweigh his allegiance to Hoffnar.”

“Hafaesir willing,” Kira replied.

After that, Erani and the others continued marking the maps, counting losses, and plotting raids. Kira stayed as long as her body would allow, but eventually sleep called to her.

When she finally awoke, she did so to find Oleg Marylin waiting outside her door.

The man sat atop a foldable chair with a journal in his hand, deep in thought, muttering to himself as his pen flitted across the paper. Two guards stood behind him, the purple cloaks of Belduar knotted at their shoulders.

Oleg almost leapt from his skin as Kira cleared her throat, pulling her deep crimson cloak tight around her shoulders. The man started, knocking his inkwell from the armrest and onto the ground, ink spilling across the stone.

“Gods.” He patted something invisible from his stained shirt, rising from the chair in a fluster. “I, ehm… I’ll have that cleaned. Ink comes out of stone, doesn’t it? I’m sure it does. It has to.”

The man was completely lost in his thoughts when Kira waved a hand. “There are slightly more pressing matters, Keeper Marylin.”

Oleg straightened himself at that, pulling his shoulders back, a flash of pride in the smile that touched his lips. “Quite right, Your Majesty. Quite right.”

The man had a way about him, a warmth. His smiles were always genuine. That was partly why he had been the perfect candidate to lead Belduar. He had something that Daymon hadlacked: compassion over self-interest. Specifically, compassion for those he served.

Kira’s mother had been a harsh teacher, but she had always said a ruler needed three things: compassion, strength, and wisdom. Everything else could be gathered. But without compassion, a ruler was nothing more than a tyrant. Without strength, a head would soon become unacquainted with the neck. And without wisdom, strength and compassion were wasted.

By Kira’s measure, Oleg possessed all three, though he played a good part in hiding it, further showing his wisdom. “Kalik tells me you’ve been sitting out here for the better part of three hours.”

Oleg raised his eyebrows, then pulled a small timekeeper from beneath his shirt, brass chain jingling. He clicked open the face guard. “By Elyara, I suppose I have. None the matter, I’ve had much to do. No time wasted.”

“What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Well…” Oleg held up a finger, then looked back at his guard and nodded towards the chair and spilt ink. “Please, Captain Harnett, I’d be much obliged.” As the captain set about folding the chair, Oleg gestured towards the building given over to Kira’s use. “We can sit and talk, if it please. I’m sure your body is still recovering.”

“On the contrary, I’ve spent far too much time sitting within four walls. Walk with me. A little pain lets me know I’m alive.”

They walked in silence for a while around the outpost, both dismissing their guards.

“The journal,” Kira asked, inclining her head towards the black leather journal Oleg still clutched in his right hand.

---