The Dread Lords Rising by J. David Phillips

  *

  Count Joachim looked down silently at the cart bearing his colors and insignia, a griffon of gold clutching a star as it launched itself into the air. Within the cart were two bodies covered in a dark sheet, beneath which one foot and calf lay exposed.

  “How very coincidental,” Jolan Kine said beneath his breath. Surrounding the cart, a large semi-circle began at the steps of the Piper’s Flute and continued around into the icy cobblestone street. The soldiers accompanying Joachim formed a protective circle around their lord, and to his side, Niam and his friends huddled around Jolan Kine.

  On the other side of Joachim stood the Mayor, who looked as if he were about to break out into a fit of palsy. “What . . . what . . . IS THIS?” he spluttered.

  Niam could see what was running through the some of the townspeople’s minds. They had heard everything Joachim told him, but now here sat evidence of the claims Eason’s men had made.

  As if it had just fallen out of the sky.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Niam shouted in disgust. “You can’t honestly believe that two dead men just happen to show up in a cart we just happen to have NOT brought with us. I distinctly remember riding a horse for fourteen frozen, maggot infested miles through snow and ice, trying to keep my fingers from falling off and my eyes from freezing shut.”

  Davin punched him in the arm, while everyone looked at him as if he had insulted their grandmothers.

  “No!” Niam said angrily. “I’m not stopping. That sorcerous bastard killed my brother and sister, so there’s not a thing anyone in this town has gone through that I haven’t. And for anyone to fall for something this stupid, I’m not keeping my mouth shut! I have just as much stake in this as some of you and more than most, because when all is said and done, everyone else will be alive and half of my family will still be dead.”

  Niam noticed as he was talking that many people surrounding him nodded their heads as he spoke. That didn’t make him feel any better. Not by a long shot. The Mayor moved his mouth as if he were about to say something, but a man with a long scar across his face spoke up before he could say anything.

  “What’s your name, son?

  “Niam Maldies, sir.”

  The man nodded his head slowly. “I thought you were Brent’s boy. I live on the other side of Siler’s Gorge, in Lakeview. I helped look for your brother’s body.”

  Niam was too taken aback by this unexpected turn, so he just looked down and mumbled, “I wish I could tell you how grateful we all are to you, sir.”

  “You said that your brother and sister were killed by the same man behind the trall attacks?” A lady holding a small child asked, clearly shocked by the revelation.

  “As far as we know, they were his first victims, ma’am.”

  Regaining his composure, the Mayor blurted out incredulously, “We haven’t had time to investigate all of the facts for ourselves.”

  Suddenly aware that everyone’s attention was focused on him, Niam’s face flushed. As he opened his mouth to say more, Davin moved to pull him back, but Jolan Kine stopped him and motioned for Niam to go on.

  “If you need an investigation, you might as well start with us. Me. My friends. The Wizard’s Hammer, we’ve been right in the middle of the whole thing from the beginning, ma’am. We’re witnesses to what happened.”

  “This is very improper!” the Mayor tried to break in.

  “Let him talk!” someone shouted.

  Underneath Joachim’s withering gaze, the man shrank back.

  ` “How do you know that this man made a trall?” the mousy faced woman who had spoken earlier squeaked as she rewrapped a shawl around her shoulders for more warmth.

  “We were there. We talked to it, in Garrolus Kreeth’s own home. And Lord Joachim has done everything and more to stop this thing. One is already dead thanks to Mr. Kine here.”

  This set off a flurry of conversation among the crowd. When the Mayor tried to break in one last time, over half of those present scowled at the man. “Go away you old fool!” someone hissed.

  Some still looked on with stony faces.

  Niam had a moment’s inspiration, and before he had time to think about stopping himself, he blurted out, “How much did they pay you?”

  The Mayor stopped and looked as if he had been slapped, but the truth was written across his face, plain enough for anyone to see.

  “I’m not putting up with this!” he cried out, but his hands worked at the hem of his pants in uncertain, fumbling movements.

  “I think this is enough!” Joachim’s voice boomed.

  Niam jumped. For a self-conscious moment, he thought the Count was angry with him. But when he looked up, the count’s angry eyes we locked on the Mayor.

  “I knew that Eason’s men had already spoken with you. I hoped that you hadn’t thrown in with them, but I’ve always known what a conniving sack of fish guts you were. Get out of my sight before I change my mind and call you to account through duel. I’ll be happy to deal with you before I get to Eason.” Joachim’s voice was as hard and cold.

  The Mayor looked around for help, but not even his supporters volunteered to step forward in his defense. In one gesture, the man managed to lift his nose up and spin around in place and walk away, clinging to what little dignity he had left. And a third of the people there went with him.

  Joachim sighed. “That could have gone worse,” he said, sounding hollow and tired. Then he looked down at Niam and patted him on his shoulder. “Thank you, son. You have something I haven’t had since I was five-years-old.”

  “What’s that, sir?” Niam asked.

  Joachim smiled, and it was like watching a rock grin. “You’re cute, Maldies.”

  Around him, everyone else laughed.