The Supreme Warrior *2014 ABNA Contest 2nd Round*

CHAPTER 11.3: The Realm of Queen Sefwyn

Before heading down the ramp, Höfòngar Thyre drew her sword and handed it to Cal. She said, “Perhaps this weapon will be better suited to you. I certainly will not use it.”

Thyre’s utilitarian sword was rather short for Cal; nevertheless, he was pleased to have a hilt in his hand instead of the awkward sledgehammer. If she does not even use her own sword, how can she hold her command to her will?

The musty smell of age filled the dark tunnel, yet the ceiling rose to a surprising height above their heads: big enough to allow the ten-foot-tall fyglóra to pass through without stooping its head. Bodelic and Höfòngar Thyre led the way. The Miner’s staff shone like a blazing sun to light the passage. One Warrior squad trailed behind him. Cal and Queen Sefwyn came next, followed by the second squad.

The tunnel wound through the mountain, preventing Cal from determining if they were heading north, south, east or west; but he sensed they were rising toward the surface as they hurried through the passage. His disorientation reminded him of a childhood excursion in which Alynde had discovered a buried tunnel that led to the catacombs beneath the old Imperial fort near Dannik. Eleven-year-old Alynde had insisted on exploring the crevice until she, Cal, and her brother Tedarius had lost all sense of direction underground. By sheer luck, the three had emerged just before their final lantern burned out. Cal trusted that dwarves could navigate underground passages far better than three reckless kids.

Bodelic opened a second door and the Warriors burst into a large round chamber built into the mountain slope.

Three startled Shepherds looked up from a strange wood and metal device shaped like a bed. The contraption held a metal press within a large, H-shaped wooden support above a stack of parchment. Before the Shepherds could say a word, Thyre sprang across the room and stuck her dagger-point under the chin of the oldest Shepherd who had been pushing down a lever.

“Why do you want the Queen dead?” she demanded.

When the terrified Shepherd failed to answer, the commander screamed, “Tell me!”

The Shepherd’s large nostrils flared, a typical Shepherd response to pressure: using their keen sense of smell to detect scents that reveal mood. “Dead??? No one h-h-here w-w-wants the Queen...dead.”

Thyre did not bother to answer; instead she clouted the Shepherd across the side of his face with the same hand in which she held her dagger.

Cal drifted over to the strange machine and picked up a piece of what looked like parchment, but felt thinner and flimsier. The precisely even script shocked him so severely that it took him several moments to recognize that it had been written in Thorandian.

Why do dwarves use the human common tongue? Could it be possible that the Stemma do not understand one another’s speech?

Across the top of the handbill was written “DEATH TO QUEEN SEFWYN!!!” in large block letters. Cal scanned the document. He read dire predictions that claimed the Gods would punish the Queen for her atrocities against the Stemma. The paper also called for "independence for each kindred".

Sefwyn grabbed another handbill from the stack and her face turned as red as her hair as she scanned the page. Her facial muscles fell with slack resignation. The Queen held up the page for her captives to see. She said, “You had to know that your protests were vain the moment we discovered you printing these handbills.”

Printing? What is printing?

The three lightly built Shepherds cowered before the Queen supported by her thick Warriors. Built for speed to keep up with their herds, the Shepherds appeared frail when compared to the looming Warriors, who possessed thick limbs and heavy bony plates that protected their vital organs.