“Um, yes,” he said. “Welcome to Two Guilders. How can I help you?” He gestured to a row of vials and bottles. “A potion to help with sleeping, perhaps, in these troubled times? Or something of a more exotic nature?”
The Hylar family advanced into the shop, allowing the door to slam behind them.
“What is it?” Sadie demanded crossly from the storeroom. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
She, too, hobbled into the shop and gawked in surprise at the sight of the Hylar family standing there. “What do you want?” she demanded as Peat winced at her harsh tone.
“They’re customers!” he hissed. “You do remember customers, don’t you?” He offered a thin smile to the Hylar father, whose gold belt buckle, fine vest, and fur-lined boots were apparent even to Peat’s feeble eyes. The woman wore several diamond bracelets, a glittering necklace, and a pair of gemstone earrings. The customers were clearly well to do.
“I apologize for my wife’s ill manners,” Peat said, glaring at Sadie-who was still staring open mouthed at the Hylar family. “But please,” he said, turning his gaze back to the Hylar, “how can we help you? Perhaps you know that we have an impressive assortment of charms and trinkets, as well as the potions that you see before you.”
Indeed, he felt justifiably proud as he indicated the well-stocked shelves with their array of contents. “We have a number of unique items here-many of them unavailable in any other shop in all Thorbardin,” he said, trying not to sound boastful. “We have elixirs that will ease the temperaments of contentious adversaries and others that will allow you to vanish from sight in a moment, should an unwelcome visitor present himself at your door. With such a potion, I assure you, you won’t be seen unless you want to be seen.”
“Er, yes,” said the Hylar, who Peat felt virtually certain was a fellow businessman, perhaps a vendor of exotic fabrics or rare gems. “Truth is, we’ve never really come in here before-”
“We’ve known about you, of course,” gushed the dwarf maid. “But, well, you know how people talk. We’d never really felt right about all the magic and-”
“Now, hush, dear,” said the Hylar patriarch sternly. “These nice Theiwar don’t need to hear our life story!”
“Well, what would you like to see now that you are here?” Peat said, gritting his teeth impatiently. “In these troubled times, there must be something we can offer.”
“Well, it’s because of the magic, you see,” said the Hylar, introducing himself as a merchant whose name was Horth Dunstone. “That’s why we came to you.”
“There’s no other way to do it, only magic,” said his wife. “Only magic can help us.”
“Help you to do what?” asked Peat gently.
“Well, there’s the war. Times are hard. My business has already suffered. My children, well, all of us, our lives are in danger. As is everyone else’s of course. But we really hoped you could help.”
“Again, help you in what fashion?” Peat felt his fixed smile starting to slip. “Do you need to hide, to protect yourselves?” His voice dropped conspiratorially. “Do you have an enemy you want to hex? To sicken, perhaps, or to blind-temporarily, of course.”
The Hylar’s eyes widened at the litany of possibilities, and he gulped nervously. Finally, he seemed to shake off his fears, clearing his throat as he recovered his nerve. “Well, it’s just this. Can you help us to get out of Thorbardin?” the merchant asked bluntly. “Just get us, our whole family, as far away from here as possible?”
Taken aback, Peat blinked. “Well, I’m afraid not,” he said with a shrug of genuine disappointment. “I mean, we could help you conceal yourselves, and if the gates were open, you might be able to slip through. But as I’m sure you know, the king has sealed us against the world. There’s no way to-”
“Wait!” It was Sadie, cutting him off with a sharp word. Peat was too puzzled to be annoyed, which would have been his usual reaction to such an interruption from his wife. He looked at her curiously, wondering what she had in mind.
“It might be possible,” Sadie said. “It would be complicated … it would be very, very expensive-”
“Oh, that’s quite all right. I can afford to pay!” Horth Dunstone offered quickly.
“Then come back tomorrow,” Sadie said. “We’ll have an answer for you then.”
Peat was staring at his wife, so utterly astounded that he didn’t even say farewell to his precious customers as they bowed politely and made their way out the door.
“The king has spoken! Rally to me, brave Hylar! Hold the wall!”
Ragat Kingsaver, General Commander of the First Division of the Royal Guard, shouted the commands from the roof of his barracks, a fortified structure just inside the main gate of the king’s fortress. After scrambling around for several hours in the initial confusion of the attack, he was fully girded for battle: his armor vest protecting him, his boots buckled securely. He slapped the hilt of his sword as he stalked back and forth, looking around coolly, making the best plan possible for the defense of Norbardin.
Ragat’s bald head was unadorned by a helmet, as was his custom, and his beardless face-almost unique in all the king’s army-made sure that he stood out prominently on any battlefield. Beyond that, the gleaming silver circlet of his shield formed a bright focal point that caught the eye of enemy and ally alike. The Kingsaver Shield, bestowed upon Ragat by the king himself, was one of the most fabled artifacts in Norbardin, and his loyal troops believed the legend whispered about it: that his army could not be defeated, so long as the general still possessed his enchanted shield.
The general had been a warrior all of his adult life. In his younger years, he had been a drunken, even dissolute, bully, ever willing to shed blood, to meet violence with violence, to take that which he desired by the dint of his will or, when necessary, the point of his blade. He had been an outlaw, had been sought for punishment by the agents of the former king, Tarn Bellowgranite, when the great civil war erupted in Thorbardin so many years earlier. Naturally, Ragat had joined the side of Jungor Stonespringer … not because of any fondness for the upstart, but simply because he was the enemy of Ragat’s enemy.
Yet a strange thing had happened to him during that war. The words of Stonespringer, emerging from the dwarf’s mouth as if they were drops of gold spraying from Reorx’s own forge, had touched Ragat deeply, inspiring a new seriousness, which, matched by his well-known combat skills, had helped him become a sergeant. He easily made captain not long thereafter. Listening to the aspiring ruler’s wise words, his entreaties toward faith and discipline in the name of Reorx, Ragat had found himself moved and ashamed of his own past, his weaknesses. In the wake of hearing that first speech, Ragat had resolved to cast aside his wicked ways and meet his new ruler’s high expectations.
His skills as a fighter had propelled him upward through the ranks of the new king’s army. During a crucial battle, all of Jungor’s bodyguards had been injured or slain, and Ragat himself had stood before his commander, killing any who dared approach.
For his stand, he had been awarded the title of “General Ragat Kingsaver,” and he had fought at his lord’s side for the rest of the short, violent war. When Jungor Stonespringer won the throne of Thorbardin, he rewarded Ragat with command of all the royal troops. He had even offered him a woman as a prize, the beautiful daughter of one of the king’s enemies. Ragat hadn’t been particularly interested in the woman, and when she had taken her own life, Stonespringer had been more distressed than his loyal subordinate.
Finally, the king had ordered a special talisman forged for his loyal general, a shield made from platinum and steel, blessed by all the priests of Reorx. It was unbreakable and shone like a beacon of righteousness whenever danger threatened the throne.
The fiery blessing of Reorx was strong in the king, and it gave to Ragat a sense of purpose that had been lacking in his earlier campaigns. A member of a gruff race of tough individuals who placed little weight on sentiment, Ragat Kingsaver had embraced his monarch’s values, his creed, and his personality with all of his warlike heart. His shield was the physical proof of that loyalty, that love. He would gladly lay his life down for his king.