Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“That’s true.”

Gronbach nodded. She didn’t see any hint of concern in those flinty eyes, but at least he didn’t smile.

“Have you finished making the swords we agreed upon?” Persephone asked.

Gronbach pushed back in his chair, an irritated grimace squished his lips, and she knew bad news was coming.

When he remained silent, she asked, “So you haven’t started? How long will it take?”

“What swords are you speaking of?” Gronbach steepled his fingertips. His face took on a forced expression of innocence that appeared as awkward on him as a smile on a snake.

“What swords?” Moya asked, stunned, and Persephone knew she wasn’t done.

She stopped Moya by holding up a hand. “We had a bargain, sir. One thousand gray-metal swords in return for killing your demon. We killed Balgargarath. Now we—”

“Do you have his head?” Gronbach made a show of lifting himself on the arms of the chair and stretching his neck. “I don’t see one.”

“He burst into dust and air.”

The dwarf leader settled back on the cushion of his seat and looked at her with a skeptical, pitiful shift of his brows. “Now isn’t that convenient.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

Gronbach did smile then, a horrible, dismissive grin. “Three Rhune women, two Rhune girls, a Fhrey, and three criminals go into Neith…it sounds like the opening of a joke, doesn’t it? You go after a demon that has effortlessly destroyed armies of well-armed, well-trained Belgriclungreian heroes. Then you poke around for a few days, and then come out with this…this story…this claim that you destroyed something invincible.” Gronbach held his hands out and made a show of dusting them off. “He’s dead, you say. Balgargarath is vanquished, you proclaim. All done, all taken care of, no problem.” He leaned farther forward with a smile of amused condescension. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

She pointed at Frost, Flood, and Rain. “Your own people will confirm what I say!”

“Of course. Criminals will say anything to stay alive. Besides, we had no bargain, you and I, no deal. I am not in the habit of giving dangerous weapons to foreigners. There’s a law against that.”

“What law? You have no king. In Caric, you’re the law.”

“Yes, I am.” Gronbach grinned. “As such”—he raised his voice, speaking to the room—“I hereby decree, by the power vested in me by the Caric Crafters’ Association and the citizens of the City of Caric, that these Rhunes and the Fhrey with them, as well as the felons Frost, Flood, and Rain, be executed for the high crime of unlawful trespassing on Belgriclungreian lands and the defiling of our most sacred city of Neith. Sentence to be carried out immediately.”

“What? You can’t be serious!” Moya erupted, advancing on Gronbach, who jerked back in his chair. “We killed that thing. I did it myself. Arion nearly died. She may yet. Suri lost Minna in the battle. We can take you down there right now and show you that it’s—” Two dwarfs grabbed Moya by the arms, pulling her away.

“He’s lying, Moya,” Persephone said as she, too, felt the hands of dwarfs upon her. “He knows we killed it.”

“The bastard is just refusing to keep his end of the bargain!” Moya shouted.

Persephone struggled to break free, but the hands of the dwarfs were as strong as their metal. “You never had any intention of giving us those swords. And now that Arion is hurt, now that she’s no longer a threat, you think we’re helpless.”

Gronbach smiled. “I’m pleased you understand the situation so well. Take them to the yard. Have Kirn put shackles on. We’ll toss them back into the sea from whence they came. Better that way. Less mess, and if anyone asks, we can honestly say they drowned.”

The dwarfs hauled each of them toward the exit. Moya put up the best fight, kicking one of the two holding her to the ground and nearly getting clear of the other before she was grabbed again.

“Break their arms if they resist!” Gronbach shouted as he stood up on the edge of his box.

“You still have a problem,” Persephone shouted. “A big problem. A dragon problem.”

This caught Gronbach’s attention. “What? Did you say dragon?”

“I did.” Persephone was hauled toward the door. “In our fight against Balgargarath, Suri, apprentice of the Miralyith, created a dragon. It’s still in Neith and is just as formidable as Balgargarath.”

“You’re lying.”

“Send a runner. It’s easy to find. The dragon is right inside at the top of the stairs. It’s on guard there with the ninth of our party, Suri. The dragon does as she commands. Do you think we are so foolish, so na?ve as to trust you and your ilk? If we don’t come back, Suri has orders to come down here with the dragon and find out why. I’m not sure you’d want that.”

The dwarf pulling on her stopped. Persephone didn’t think most Dherg understood Rhunic, but it appeared the majority of those in Caric—or at least those in that room—did, as with no comment from Gronbach, the efforts to force them out the door ceased. The dwarf holding Persephone still gripped her elbows, forcing them behind her back and keeping her off balance, but he no longer made any effort to drag her away.

Gronbach nodded to a dwarf near the door, who ran off.

The Master Crafter slowly sat back down. He looked at each of them, making a study of their faces before coming back to Persephone, whom he studied the longest.

Can’t tell if I’m bluffing, can you, little worm.

“Assuming there is a dragon,” Gronbach began, “what do you propose we do about it?”

“I’ll get rid of it for you. Destroy it.”

“In return for what?”

“For one—” Persephone jerked against the hands restraining her, then glared at Gronbach.

The Master Crafter nodded, and the hands let go.

Persephone took an irritated breath, rubbed the marks on her arms, and reclaimed a step back into the hall. “For one, you will not treat us poorly. In fact, I would say it’s in your best interest to provide us with the finest rooms, baths, food, and drink. Doing otherwise would make the dragon sad. You don’t want that.”

“Is that all?”

“No. We’ll require safe passage back to Tirre. A ship with a good crew and irrefutable orders to transport us safely.”

Gronbach pursed his lips and thought a moment. “The Calder Noll is scheduled to leave for Vernes soon, isn’t it?”

“At dusk tomorrow.” The answer came from behind Persephone.

“Will that do?” Gronbach asked.

“I also want them.” She pointed at Frost, Flood, and Rain, who were still being held. Rain had a dwarf on each arm and one with a hold around his neck.

This caught Gronbach by surprise. He shifted his gaze between the three dwarfs and Persephone with a puzzled look. “Why do you want them?”

“Do you really care? And if you give them to me…sending them into exile…we’ll leave this place. Wouldn’t that be nice?”