Downfall

A noise in the brush caused Maldred to jerk away, his hands reaching for the pommel of the sword strapped to his back, stopping when he recognized the two ogre scouts he'd sent out a while back. The creatures looked shocked by the aftermath of the battle, and Maldred gave them a curtailed version of the events.

The scouts reported quickly, Maldred and Dhamon listening attentively, while Fiona gave Rig an inquisitive look.

"Are you certain we're not near Takar?" she asked.

Rig nodded. "But I don't know where we are."

"1 do. We're less than a mile from the Trueheart Mines," Dhamon said, squarely facing the mariner, his eyes dancing in the torchlight. "If you want to rescue somebody, there are plenty of prisoners there in need of it."

Fiona looked incredulously between Dhamon and Rig, then let out a deep breath from between her teeth and angrily took a step toward Maldred. Dhamon's hand slammed against her breastplate, stopping her. Maldred was talking to the scouts in the ogre tongue, gesturing at the force of the mercenaries, and then to the south.

"He's getting them ready," Dhamon explained. "Issuing a few orders. You know how that is, Fiona. Soldiers need instructions before a fight."

Rig batted Dhamon's arm down. "You and Maldred lied to her. You promised her a small army of mercenaries."

"I didn't promise her anything."

"Maldred, Donnag…"

"Well, Rig, there're thirty mercenaries left-after the snakes."

"For Takar," Rig stated flatly. "They were to be for Takar."

"We didn't want to go to Takar," Dhamon returned. "I certainly had no intentions of going there-or anywhere else in this blessed swamp, for that matter. You should have realized that days ago, Rig." His voice was icy, his stare hard and unwavering. "Maldred had his own agenda, and he thought he could use your sword arms. You're good in a fight, the both of you. And he seems quite fond of Fiona."

"Fiona," Rig stated softly. "This is all about her. Maldred is more than fond of her. He lied to her just to keep her around."

Dhamon didn't reply to that. "I suspect you two would've gone along with us from the beginning if you weren't so bent on going to Takar to ransom a Solamnic Knight. Sorry, a Knight's body. Maldred's plan is equally as noble as yours. Just not quite as dangerous-or futile."

"We're not going any farther." Fiona stepped back, wrapping her fingers around the pommel of her sword. "With any of you." Her tone was as venomous as Dhamon's, her posture rigid. "Rig was right all along, and I was a fool not to listen to him. What was I thinking? Are my senses so muddled that…"

Rig took her arm and pulled her a few feet away from Dhamon. "We can't afford too much of a confrontation here," he whispered, his eyes darting back and forth between Dhamon and Maldred, who was still occupied with issuing orders. Several ogres had joined the big man.

"Wish I could understand them," he grumbled. "Can't trust them. Don't know what they're saying." His expression softened when he looked at her heart-shaped face. "Listen, there're way too many of them, and I know for certain now that there's not a single one of them that can be believed."

"1 agree. Can we find the way to Takar alone? If my brother is truly dead…" She let that thought trail off, inhaled deep and adopted her military posture again. "It is my fault for not finding another avenue to raise the coins and gems. And now the ransom I had managed to extract from Chieftain Donnag is gone." She eased her fingers away from the pommel of her sword and steepled them in her nervous gesture.

"Fiona…"

"Oh, Rig. Maybe I don't need the coins. If we go to Takar I can find that old draconian. I'd recognize him in a heartbeat. Perhaps I can persuade him to tell me for certain if my brother is truly dead. I must have something more than your vision. Maybe, just maybe, the black dragon might release him…" She paused. "My sword has value, my armor. Perhaps everything isn't lost."

Rig placed his hands on her shoulders. "Fiona, please. Let's stop this. Forget Takar. If you want to honor your brother, forget his plight. Forget all of this. Let's go to Shrentak instead, try to rescue the prisoners there who are still alive. Maybe where a garrison of Knights failed, two people could succeed. Unnoticed. Slipping in and out. That would be an honorable thing to do."

Her face softened for a moment, her eyes watering, her posture relaxing. It looked as if she might agree with him, but then Maldred strolled over, reached out and thumped her shoulder, drawing her attention. Fiona's eyes met his and instantly brightened.

"Fiona," Maldred began. He was holding a torch, which sharply revealed the planes of his face and the injuries he had suffered, his wide, dark eyes that held hers despite her fury. "We mean to free the ogres that the Black works as slaves in the Trueheart Mines. They're Donnag's people, good men all of them, and the dragon's killing them with the work. Dhamon and I want your help."