The Chronicles of Mythguard - A Newly Revised Version

Chapter 2

The hall had filled within the hour, crowded with most of the peasantry of Mythguard and only a handful of noble Houses that had no enmity to the new King. Many voices were raised over that of others, filling the hall with a noise that rumbled through the keep. Barthanax stood in the shadows in the back of the room, conversing with the others who'd be in the ceremony; the Wife, Maisa, Ariana and Dominic.

''So you're aware of how the ceremony is to go, your Highness?'' The Wife said in her quite monotone voice.

''Vaguely, but I'm sure I can wing my way through it.''

''Your Highness, if I may,'' Dominic piped in, ''you can't just wing it. This is an important ceremony for your rise to power. Winging it is out of the question.''

''Thank you Dominic for the insight. I'll try to wing it without looking like I'm winging it.''

''Did you seriously not hear a word I just said?''

''He did, and he's chosen ta ignore ye.''

The five of them looked at the dwarf approaching them. He had a long orange beard braided and clasped with golden circlets, inscribed with runes. His hair was the same and his eyebrows were bushy, hiding his icy blue eyes. Beneath all the hair was a pale face of chiseled muscle, squared and perfect like hewn stone, and the dwarf wore armor of thick steel banded with cast iron and mail dyed black beneath which he wore dull earthy toned clothing. He and Barthanax locked eyes, and at once they smiled, spreading their arms wide to embrace.

''Grungin!''

''Barthy!''

The two men embraced like brothers, for they were brothers. They were both born of the same day, place, time and year. However, Grungin was younger by half due to the dwarven blood he had in his veins. For Barthanax's twenty five, Grungin was twelve and a half, though it bothered no one besides the dwarves themselves.

''How've you been, brother?''

''Oh just grand. Heard yer tha' new King o' Mythguard.''

''I am. How'd you hear about that?''

''Ariana, bless her heart, wrote me a letter.''

''Did she now?'' He looked at her and smiled, a silent thank you.

''Aye. So I came as fast as I could to tell ye some grand news.''

''Oh? What is it, Grungin?''

''I'm passing off the crown to ye. Yer ta' be the King o' the Black Fortress.''

As if by magic another dwarf appeared from within the crowd, rummaging inside a satchel. Out came a crown and a circlet, both made of silver inlaid with runes and three rubies set in. The dwarf passed them off to Grungin, who in turn gave it to the Wife.

''You're not serious.''

''Have ye ever known me ta joke?''

''Constantly,'' Barthanax said sternly, ''in fact, last time we saw each other you had your men hide all my breeches while I was asleep. Took me three hours of pants-less wandering to find one.''

''I remember that,'' Grungin laughed, ''ya found it stuffed in the garderobe. Mother Above ye smelled o' shite fer a bloody week.''

''Which I had the pleasure of smelling every night for that same week.'' Maisa added. ''Poor Ariana had to clean them.''

''Which reminds me, where did they go?'' Barthanax asked, looking at both his wife and servant.

''I burned them.'' Ariana said, her answer surprisingly confident for someone who burned their Lord's clothing willingly. ''Lady Mastradome and I agreed it'd be best for everyone if they were no longer existing.''