The Dwarven Sorcerer

The Dwarven Sorcerer Ch 21

Deltryd sat in the interrogation room on a cushioned chair, her arms crossed in front of her chest, a hot spiced mead sat untouched, steaming away on the table while staring icy daggers at the inquisitor across from her. The inquisitor shifted uncomfortably, feeling like he was the one being interrogated. Mordin and Kargan talked in quiet tones in the adjacent room.

"Ain't no way she'll talk," said Kargan, glancing at the she-dwarf. "A dwarf mum is like a mama bear when it comes to her children. She'll die before she gives up her child."

Mordin cursed, knowing that was true. He had to be careful with this one, being a female and all. If she were a male he could just beat the answers he needed out of her but to hit a she-dwarf was an unforgivable crime.

I'd be hanged for sure. Normally, Mordin would turn to The Hammer of Wizards to find his answers, but unfortunately, Henrik Krammsson was annoyingly silent on the matter of interrogating she-dwarves — at least when it came to the non-magical variety.

Mordin cursed again. "Bloody hell," he said. "Do what you can. Just get something from her. I won't let that last bloody wizard escape."

Kargan entered the room. What the fuck was he supposed to do? She wasn't about to give up her son no matter what and there ain't no way he was going to ask hard. Deltryd stared unafraid at the giant. He walked calmly to the empty chair across from her and slowly lowered himself onto it.

"Leave us," he said to the other inquisitor, he wanted to be alone with the prisoner. He waited for him to leave before continuing. "Do you know the damage a single wizard can cause if he were to be allowed to run free in the city?" Asked Kargan. "Lives are in danger."

"Do you know the damage a pissed-off mum can cause to your ugly fuckin' face?" asked Deltryd, her voice calm and even. "Your life is in danger."

Kargan sighed. Oy, this ain't going so well. "I don't want to hurt your son. I'm sure he's a good lad; he's a Thenge, and a digger — a noble profession if ever there is one; he has many friends, I hear. I ain't gonna hurt him, I just want to ask him some questions is all," said Kargan as gently as possible.

"I know all about the kinds of questions you ask. I've seen the bruises and broken faces."

"It ain't like that," reasoned Kargan. "Them dwarves were wizards, using dark magic and all. I don't reckon that your boy is one of them bastards. Just might have gotten himself into a wee bit of trouble is all."

There was a long pause as Deltryd seemed to think about it, really consider it. She leaned in and spoke conspiratorially. "You promise not to hurt me boy?" she asked.

Fat chance. "Of course," said Kargan.

She spoke softly, forcing the inquisitor to lean in closer to her. "Ok, I'll tell ya." She looked around the empty room as if ensuring no one was listening in. She leaned closer until Kargan could feel her breath caress his hair as she spoke. "There is one place you might want to look. I know for certain you haven't checked yet."

"Yes?"

"Have you checked," she looked around the room one last time. "Up your fuckin' arse?" she leaned back and started laughing. "You he-dwarves are so fucking stupid sometimes. It's a wonder you've lived this long without stabbin' yerself in the eye whilst eating," she laughed again.

Kargan's face turned red in anger and embarrassment. You're a bloody fool for believing she was about to give him up. Kargan stood and left the room, her laughter echoing after him.

. . .

Grundi drank alone whilst surrounded by dwarves. Emptied bottles of extra strong mead laid scattered on the table like dead bodies. He looked at how many he had killed — he truly was a great warrior. He laughed at his private joke, a laughter that bordered on hysteria. The dwarves in the tavern looked at him nervously. He was wearing his inquisitor's armour so no one approached him, other than the poor dwarf who served him, who only did so hesitantly. Because he was an inquisitor, Grundi was allowed to drink in The Two Ravens with the Huskarls and Merkesmenn. It was a great step-up in his life.

The tavern was nice, nicer than The Miner's Crack. It was bigger, brighter, and the food was better. A memory of Ailiana threatened to present itself. He upturned the bottle of mead into his mouth but it was empty; he knocked it over so it could join the rest of the fallen and called for another.

A server hesitantly approached Grundi. "Um, sir, I think you've had enough, maybe you should call it a night."

Grundi gave him a dark scowl. His first reaction was to lash out, to smash this idiot's face, but it wouldn't accomplish anything. He looked around the room at all the frightened faces. Some battles weren't worth fighting. "Give me one to go then," he said.

The dwarf looked relieved. "Yes, sir."

He returned quickly with a new bottle. Grundi took it from him and stood. He nearly fell as the world spun away from him, but caught himself on the table first. He managed to save the bottle. He threw some coins on the table, more than enough to pay for his drinks, the inquisition paid well.

The few dwarves in the streets gave him a wide berth as he passed. It wasn't curfew yet but most stayed inside anyway. This scarlet cloak works better than a bloody shield. He enjoyed being an inquisitor, sure he hadn't been doing it for very long, but the benefits were incredible.

He took a long swig of his bottle and stumbled. Yeah, he liked being an inquisitor, it gave him a chance to rid the city of wizard scum. It was good work, the will of the gods. It was better than digging; what did digging do? He cut holes in the mountain. The Inquisition helped dwarves, they made Rathgar a safer place to live. Every wizard they took off the street was an infected limb cut from a dying body, stopping the spread of decay. He didn't even miss digging anymore. Maybe at first he missed the work and being around his friends but they were weak and didn't understand that what he was doing was for their own good.

The first arrest was hard, not hard like the dwarf put up a fight or nothing; no, it was the opposite, he had given up completely: body, mind, and soul. Grundi had never even heard of a dwarf surrendering like that before. He had seen dwarves completely surrounded by enemies, fighting in hopeless battles and still they fought on. And yet, that dwarf had given up so completely — He found the drink helped with his guilt afterwards. Warriors never surrender like that. I guess that means the Inquisition has them beaten down pretty good right now. He took another swig. Good for us.

The Inquisition was becoming the most powerful organization in Rathgar; in size, they rivalled even the army, and in practice, they had nearly unlimited power. It felt good to be on the winning side, to be on the side of righteousness. A she-dwarf pulled her child close to her and crossed to the other side of the street as Grundi passed, eyeing him suspiciously; he pretended not to notice.

Yup, the Inquisition was the right choice; digging was a waste of time. He finished his bottle as he reached his home.