The Special Economic Zone Chapter 7: On the Iron Throne

 

On the Iron Throne

Thorn motioned towards the street. “I’m going to need your help. Has your master given you a name?”

The bunny girl shook her head.

“Okay. We can get by without one. I wouldn’t want to give you a name here and screw things up.”

The bunny girl looked up. “Are you going to save me?”

“I’ll try my best. You’re owned by the Guild Master, right?”

“I am.” The bunny girl lowered her head.

“Then let’s go. I’ll buy you off him for a price he can’t say no to.”

“Really? Why would you do this for me?”

“I just want to spread a bit of positivity and kindness using the powers that were gifted to me.”

The bunny girl almost smiled. “I can lead you.” She stood up. “Follow me.” She began skipping down the road towards the center of the city.

Thorn stopped her. “Calm. We don’t want people thinking something’s wrong.”

The bunny girl stopped skipping. “Okay. Sorry sir.”

They reached a large mansion in the merchants’ quarter of the city. Thorn knocked. A well-dressed butler opened the door.

“May I help you?”

“Yeah. I’ve come to buy this slave off of the owner of this house.”

“You mean Master Gilmore?”

“Yeah, him. He’s the merchants’ Guild Master, right?”

“He is indeed, sir. I shall take you to him.”

The bunny girl hid behind Thorn as he entered the foyer. Inside the building, luxury was obvious. Suits of plate armor and fancy profile paintings lined the halls.

A old man wearing ornamented glasses stepped out of a room on the second floor, overlooking the foyer where Thorn stood.

“I am glad you have brought my errant slave back.” He walked down the spiral staircase, keeping his hand on the railing. “I would punish her on the spot, but since you are a guest I will refrain.”

“I want to buy her from you.”

“What, have you taken a liking to her form?” Gilmore’s face showed a bit of scorn. “You can have her for three silver coins.”

“I’ll buy.”

Gilmore reached the first floor and walked towards Thorn. Thorn handed him three silver coins. Gilmore examined them, and raised an eyebrow. “These coins have not been clipped.” Gilmore chuckled. “You are an honest fellow. Since you have deigned to give me unclipped coins, I will answer one question for you. Speak.”

“Okay. I need to hire a few dwarven architects and smiths.”

Gilmore pursed his lips. “I know of only one dwarf who lives among humans.”

“Why is there an army around the dwarven city?” Thorn pulled the bunny girl away from Gilmore.

“You did not know? You must be a traveler from out of country. Very well then. I shall answer your question. The King has decreed that all non-humans shall be enslaved. This includes elves and dwarves.”

“All of them?” Thorn tilted his head. “Do you know why?”

“It is not my business to ask why to the king. I do value my head as it is attached to my shoulders, after all.”

Thorn sighed. “Okay. Show me to that one dwarf and we can call it even.”

Gilmore shrugged. “He works in the smithy at the intersection of Brawn and Center Lane.”

“Thank you.” Thorn pulled the bunny girl with him as he left the mansion.

“If you ever need something,” Gilmore nodded his head, “you can come asking.”

“Sure. I’ll remember that.”

The butler closed the door as they left. Thorn turned to the bunny girl. “It’s no good that you don’t have a name. I’ll call you Sally.”

“Sally.” The bunny girl spoke her new name with reverence. “Why did you bother with me?”

Thorn made sure that no one was in earshot. “I work with the Underground Railway.”

Sally covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh.”

“So it’s my job to rescue as many slaves as I can.” Thorn put his hands into his pockets. “You know your way around this place, right? Can you take me to where the Guild Master said the dwarf would be?”

“Okay.” Sally led Thorn through the city until they came to a corner in the middle of the trade district.

Thorn stopped walking. “Is this it?”

The building was tall, with barred windows up to the third floor. A yellow heat radiated from the opening at ground level, and through the door Thorn could see a full blown smithy, with bellows and anvils and hammers. The sound of a blacksmith’s hammer resonated across the street.

Thorn walked up to the entrance. “Hey!” He yelled into the building. “Does anyone know where the dwarf is?”

A short, stocky being with a huge beard and large nose stopped his hammer stroke in mid-air. “Who are you?”

Thorn rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m looking for the dwarf that lives here. Is that you?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I have a question for you. Are you happy where you are right now?”

The dwarf scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re trying to sell me, but I’m not buying.”

Thorn held up his hands. “I’m not trying to sell you something. I want to know what’s going on with the dwarven kingdom ten miles down the road.”

“Ah, you mean the “lonely mountain?”” The dwarf spoke the name in Dwarvish, which Thorn’s magic instantly translated.

“Yeah, the “lonely mountain.”” Thorn switched to the dialect of Dwarvish that the dwarf had been using.

The dwarf put down his hammer. “Hm. Since you speak my language so well, you should already know what’s going on.”

“I don’t. So do you think you can tell me?”

The dwarf sighed. “My name is Galena. I’m the only dwarf with a license to live here in this city. All the other dwarves have been forced out.” Galena pointed in the direction of the lonely mountain. “The king has decided, in his ever great wisdom, to try and enslave the dwarves of the lonely mountain. They’ve been putting up a good fight, however.”

“I’m looking for a couple of dwarven smiths and architects. I’m building a new town in Farrow Dells.”

“I’ve heard of that place. A grand red dragon lives there, if I’m not mistaken.”

Thorn shrugged. “Yeah. She’s kind of my friend at the moment.”

Galena scoffed. “Well then. You certainly came here asking the right questions.” He stretched. “I can get you into the lonely mountain. It may be risky, but I’ll do it for you, since you speak my language so well.”

“Thanks.”

Galena looked around the place to make sure no one was listening. “Okay. If you can figure out a way to climb the cliff at the back side of the mountain, there’s a secret entrance near the mountain’s summit. Only a few dwarves know of it, but if you go there and speak the passcode, they’ll let you in.”

“What’s the code?”

“Peanuts.”

“Erm, peanuts?”

“Yes. In Dwarvish, it’s slang for small gems that aren’t worth very much.”

“Oh, okay.” Thorn nodded. “I’ll be on my way then.”

Galena paused. “Do you mind taking me with you?”

Thorn looked at Galena for a moment. “Yes. If you want to start a new life where you won’t be prejudiced against, you can come.”

“Good. Let me get all my things ready. I’ll be prepared by the time you come back from the lonely mountain.”

“Thank you. Obviously I can’t bring the dwarves I hire into the city.”

“We can meet in the king’s forest to the north of the city walls.” Galena looked around. “I’ve got a few people I’d like to bring with me. If I’m not there by the time that you’re done, please wait for me.”

Thorn turned around. “I’ll hold you to it.” He patted Sally on the head. “Stay with Galena while I figure out how to get into the lonely mountain.”

Sally shook her head. “No. I want to come with you.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to carry you up the cliff.”

Sally looked down. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be alone.” Thorn looked down at Sally. “I trust Galena. He knows what it’s like to be a stranger in this city.”

“Okay.”

Thorn looked at Galena. “Do you mind keeping her while I’m gone?”

“Of course.”

Thorn flipped Galena a silver coin. “Here. For your trouble.”

Galena pocketed the coin. “Thanks.”

Thorn turn around. “I’ll be waiting in the king’s forest.” He left the smithy and walked out of the city using the north gate. When he was in a clearing and was certain no one was watching, he took off into the air, headed towards the lonely mountain. He reached it in about ten minutes. He saw the cliff face that Galena had mentioned and landed on it.

A small crevice marked the location of the secret door. Thorn walked up to it and knocked.

The answer came in Dwarvish. “Who goes there?”

“Peanuts.” Thorn stepped back.

The door opened slightly. A dwarven face looked out. “What’s a human doing here with our passcode?”

Thorn stepped forward. “Galena, back in Dalmor, gave me the code. I’m looking to hire some dwavish architects and smiths.”

“Eh? Why would we trust a human like you?”

Thorn conjured a large gem using his ability. “How about I show you?” He tossed the gem at the doorman.

The doorman caught the gem and admired it. “You do have good taste. Fine, then. We’ll call this a bribe and I’ll let you in.” The dwarf opened the door all the way.

Thorn stepped through the portal and into a narrow hallway lit with magical lanterns. The door slid shut behind him.

The dwarf doorman led Thorn through a maze of corridors, until they finally reached a populated area. A large arcade was covered in mushroom farms, with some stone alcoves being used for shops. About a hundred dwarves walked around the open street going about their business. Thorn had the feeling he was inside of a miniature dollhouse.

The doorman led Thorn along the road until it intersected a large highway with tall, vaulted ceilings. As he walked dwarves turned to look at him, muttering as they did so. The doorman took Thorn directly to the dwarven palace. The doors to it were gigantic, twice the size of the gates to a human city. They were foiled with ornate gold bas motifs. Rare wood was used in its construction.

The doorman stamped his staff on the ground. “I am requesting an audience with King Dwargon.”

The gates opened. Thorn waited for the doorman to step forward.

“You must go alone, human.”

Thorn nodded. “What is your name?”

“Malachite. Now go.”

Thorn stepped into the palace. The doors swung shut behind him, closing with an echoing thump. Lines of dwarven soldiers stood along the red carpet that led to the throne.

The dwarven king, Dwargon, sat atop the throne, his chin sitting on his palm.

He spoke in Dwarvish. “Is it true that a human who knows our tongue has arrived via the ancient door?”

“Yes, your honor.” Thorn used the most polite conjugation Dwarvish had to offer in his response.

“Hm.” Dwargon tilted his head. “And you come here to ask for help?”

“Yes. I’d like to hire some dwarven architects and smiths to help my burgeoning new town in Farrow Dells.”

“The home of Akkandocastulcar, feared red dragon? You lie.”

“I actually made friends with her. She likes to be called Aki.”

“I do not trust you, human, but I find your proposal interesting enough to investigate. Until I find out if you are telling the truth, you will be locked within this fortress. I will not detain you, and you will have full run of the facilities, but you may not leave. I will assign a guard to you at all times.” Dwargon narrowed his eyes. “If this is true, then what I have been hearing of late may not be as dire as I thought it would. A friend of Akkandocastulcar, someone who can stand as their equal, would be a welcome change to the world’s political structure.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just a level two E class adventure.”

“I am the king of dwarves. Do not think I am unaware of your aura suppressing ring. That deep purple color tells me that you are a being of great power.” Dwargon slammed his fist on the throne. “If it is decided that you can be an asset to the dwarves, I will make your stay here worth your time. Now go.”

Thorn bowed, and then turned to leave the throne room.