Ultimate Level 1

Chapter 393: Orders or Choices

King Dagon Stormfall’s shoulders were wider than Max would have imagined as the dwarf stood there, slowly coming down the steps toward them. His armor was a bronze-red color, and it took him just a few seconds to realize what the scales were made from.

Those are dragon scales!

Probably not a good time to mention to him you have a dragon then. Look at his pants and arms.

Even without Bob’s leading, Max had already taken in the full sight of a dwarf who easily outweighed him by probably twice as much. The king’s build was that of a stocky dwarf who just happened to be taller than anyone else and wider than almost two grown men.

Each step didn’t make a sound as his boots barely clicked against the stone floor.

Never did his dark eyes leave the group as he descended, the smile almost chiseled upon his face.

“My king!” Fowl gasped, dropping to a knee and bending over further.

Batrire and Fowl’s family didn’t waste a second, matching his movement.

Cordellia started to mimic them but saw that Max and Tanila did nothing more than bend slightly at the waist.

A cough came from the butler who had escorted them, and a small snap was heard by Max as the other one instructed his parents to stand.

“Forgive me, my king. I… I do not know how this should all work.”

Chuckling, the ruler of the dwarves continued to walk until he was just a few feet from Fowl and held out his hand.

“Will this work, son of Hammerfall?”

Their warrior immediately reached out and shook Dagon’s hand, pumping it half a dozen times before the king freed himself from the dwarf’s grip.

“And Batrire. It is an honor to meet you.”

Max couldn’t believe it when the king leaned forward and held out his arms, pulling their healer close and kissing her on the forehead like a father might a child.

“Thank… thank you, my king!” Batrire exclaimed, her voice cracking at first.

“And you three, companions of my children! Welcome! I have heard many tales about your feats! Come, let us retire to a different room where I have some beverages and food waiting for us so we can talk as men and women and not a king and citizens.”

Without waiting for them to respond, Dagon turned and moved toward the right wall, where a set of doors opened up, leading into a room where amazing smells immediately began to come out.

“Let’s go,” the butler whispered. “After him.”

All of them quickly began to follow the dwarf, who was hurrying to lead them in the direction their king had gone.

Max saw the look of confusion or what he thought must be on Fowl’s parents’ faces. Both of them had raised eyebrows, slightly cocked, and mouths that were almost open. All three of his family members were quickly ushered by their attendant, and he could sense their steps being an unnatural cadence.

I’m guessing this wasn’t the greeting they were expecting.

Did you receive the greeting you expected from the queens? I can imagine how your friends must feel right now. For a dwarf to meet their king in a private setting is a rare thing from what I have learned from you and your friends. If what he said about his family is true, then yes, I doubt they were expecting the king to lavish such great compliments upon their son.

As they drew closer to the room, the scent of cooked meats and fresh bread reached their noses, and Max found his mouth watering.

Even though I don’t have to eat, I cannot imagine passing up food by the way this stuff smells!

He heard Cordellia’s and Tanila’s stomachs both let out a growl, and each woman did their best to pretend such noise didn’t come from them.

The moment they stepped into the room, Max saw that this small area was easily twice the size of the room they had waited in and had a large table on one side filled with a large assortment of food. Five different animals were all cooked to what looked and smelled like perfection. Three different kinds of bread were all ready to be consumed. Half a dozen different desserts, fresh fruit, and vegetables were all available.

Servants stood at the ends of the table with plates, and a few stood over the meat on the other side of the table, sharp knives and forks ready to carve whatever someone might want.

The place Max realized all the dwarves were looking though was a large cask on a different table, the image of the king’s head burnt into the wood.

“Dear gods, is that—”

“Ahh yes, you noticed my personal brew!” Dagon called out as he reached the front of the table where most of the meat was. “I figured this should be a time of celebration and wanted to let you all partake in the feast we are going to enjoy!”

“But… but why?”

Fowl’s question caused the king to turn around, an empty plate he had picked up in his hand, apparently ready to ladle high with food.

“Why? Surely you must know, Fowl Hammerfall! You and your bride-to-be are to join my Guard!”

A pit grew in his stomach, and behind him he sensed his friend’s father falling, fainting as the dwarf crashed to the ground.

“Someone get a healer,” the king muttered, turning around and holding his plate out to the dwarf, who had already cut off a giant piece of roasted boar.

“No.”

Batrire’s voice sounded so quiet, and yet it almost echoed in the room as dwarves had begun to move to obey their king.

“Excuse me?” Fowl asked, turning to look at their healer.

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She was shaking her head, and Max could see her fists were clenched by her sides.

“I said no,” she declared, this time having found the strength to speak boldly. “I will not abandon my friends to simply stand here and be nothing more than a figure.”

A few gasps came, and Max tried to sense the shifting dwarves in the room, some of the King’s Guard all shifting slightly as they stood in the four corners, eyes fixed upon the dwarf who just denied their ruler’s command.

“I’m sorry, little one,” Dagon said, not turning around, motioning to the servant to keep cutting off more meat. “This is not something you get a say in.”

“You bet your hairy ogre nuts I do!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot. “I didn’t come here to join this Guard or be told by anyone what I can and can’t do! I came here to tell Fowl’s parents about how wrong they were about their son and how great he is! I came here to get married and have a wedding every dwarven girl dreams of! What I didn’t come for was for a dwarf I’ve never met to tell me what the rest of my life is going to look like after they haven’t done a single thing for me besides apparently rig a contest so that Fowl’s and my parents would win an award and perhaps make me more inclined to obey your commands!”

Each word was emphasized with her displeasure, and Max almost winced as he saw the king react just slightly when the accusation of the contests was said out loud.

“Batrire, please—”

“No!” she shouted, turning and cutting Fowl off. “We didn’t come here for this.”

Pointing a finger at Max, Tanila, and Cordellia, their healer looked at them and tried to smile.

“They are our family… my family, and I will not leave them. No matter who tells me to. Not even you.”

Her last words were almost a whisper, and the clattering of a knife hitting the ground, one of the servants having lost it, shattered the moment slightly.

Before them a scene started to unfold.

Fowl stepped forward and raised his hand slowly, his thumb wiping away a few tears that were streaming down Batrire’s cheek.

His head moved up and down slowly, a smile starting to form.

Meanwhile, the king had turned around, and Dagon’s face was beginning to look a little sunburned as it took on a reddish tone.

“You think you have a choice!?” he bellowed.

His outburst felt like a wave of power had been sent at them, almost as if a large hammer had slammed into them.

Neither dwarf acknowledged the king; instead, both grabbed the other’s hands and looked deeply into one another’s eyes.

“You mean that, don’t you?” Fowl asked. “We wouldn’t abandon them, no matter what.”

“How many children do we owe them? How many poor dwarves will be cursed with a name that starts with Max or Seth?”

Laughter came from their warrior as Dagon almost began to have smoke coming from his nostrils, the way they flared and his eyebrows danced as one.

“My king!” The butler who had been leading them moved forward a step, holding a hand out. “Do not lose your temper!”

Max moved toward his friends, sensing the shift in the room, guards moving in slightly and the other dwarves backing up.

“No! This is my home! Who will defy me in my own home!?” the king called out.

His voice rang out across the room, and Max could see the fire that almost seemed to rage in the leader of the dwarves’ eyes.

And then a presence from behind told him Tanila wasn’t taking this any longer.

“It is a shame,” their mage said, her voice calm and measured. “For so long my father had told me that King Dagon Stormfall was a gracious leader to his people. Never forcing their hand and that he led with a fatherly love that sickened him. Perhaps he was wrong; you are more like him than I realized. Pity. For once, I had hoped to meet a king I could admire.”

Gasps came, and a sword appeared in the hand of a dwarf on Max’s left.

Dagon’s eyes blinked a few times rapidly, his nostrils still flaring as he took in the sight of Tanila. Her hair and eyes glowed gold, and the aura that came off her was overwhelming.

“A daughter? Of Savantus? Why are you here?!”

“Because for whatever reason, Ockrim has put Fowl and Batrire in my life and then added Max and Cordellia,” she replied, back straight and not backing down as the king of this mountain stared her down. “They are my family, not some elf who sits on a throne imprisoning, torturing or killing anyone who doesn’t bend to his will. Who knew it seemed to have spread here finally.”

Max looked at the King’s Guard, who was drawing close, sword and shield now out and in full plate armor.

“If you make a move,” he growled, “I will show you why I am the master of the arena in Peltagow.”

Another guard suddenly had a hammer and shield present on his other side.

“My king!” the butler shouted. “Look at what is happening!”

Snorting, Dagon glanced around the room, finally noticing what was about to take place.

Behind him, meat was on the floor, dropped from the metal plate he had smashed in his massive hand.

Two guards were armed for battle and approaching the guests he had invited here.

Before him, two dwarves stood, now shoulder to shoulder with Max, plate armor covering Fowl and Batrire in her healer garb.

“I…” Dagon sputtered for a moment and then took a deep breath, letting it out and holding up both hands, the broken plate falling onto the stone floor.

“Stop. Put the weapons and armor away. This shouldn’t happen. To act in such a way would be a disgrace upon the throne I have sat in for over a century!”

Everyone froze as the massive dwarf huffed a few times, his eyes fixated upon their mage.

“It would appear the daughter of Savantus is right. I have not acted like the king I have long proclaimed to be.”

His eyes moved to Fowl and Batrire, and a slight frown appeared.

“I must ask for your forgiveness. I… did not think of what you two might desire and simply thought the honor of being in my Guard would be too much to pass up. My queen is usually by my side, and I’m afraid that I have acted in haste, not listening to her council, which no doubt would have prevented such a thing as this from happening.”

Motioning with a hand at Max and the other two, all three now wearing their armor, weapons still not present, he slowly smiled.

“What kind of friends would risk everything to fight against a king and his guard?”

“The kind of friend every dwarf dreams about,” Fowl stated. “The kind of friend that is family.”

Nodding slowly, Dagon clapped his hands and motioned at the guards prepared for a fight.

“Return to your posts. Someone get me a drink. I need to sit down and relax.”

Max felt multiple dwarves let out a sigh of relief as their king moved toward a chair and plopped down.

“Never a dull moment,” Cordellia muttered. “And for a moment I was ready to see how great you were in a fight like this.”

Chuckling, Max shook his head.

“No… I would have grabbed you all and ran.”

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