Downfall

Fiona slid by him, unfastening her swordbelt and placing it in the crate. She pulled a dagger from her boot and added that weapon. After a moment's thought, she set her helmet next to the crate, combing her hair with her fingers. Dhamon tugged at his sword belt, dangling it and the attached ale skins over the crate as he glanced at the ogre sentries. Then he carefully set it inside. Rikali followed with the ivory-pommeled dagger Dhamon had given her, and Fetch grudgingly deposited his hoopak. The four of them waited for Rig.

"I won't."

"Then suit yourself and wait for us out here," Maldred said. The big man gallantly extended his arm again to Fiona, his eyes sparkling and warm and bringing a slight smile to her heart-shaped face. The Solamnic paused for just a moment before she took his elbow and entered the manse, not giving Rig a second glance.

Rikali waited for Dhamon to copy Maldred's gracious gesture, pouting when he didn't and slipping inside just behind him. "Lover," she whispered as she nudged him. "You should learn better manners. Watch Mai. He knows how to treat a lady." Fetch had squeezed in just ahead of the pair.

"Awh…" Rig rested his glaive against the front of the manse. "This better be here when I come out," he warned.

Then he proceeded to drop his more readily visible weapons into the crate and join the others inside.

The interior was impressive. A long cherrywood table dominated the dining room into which they were escorted, ringed by ogre-sized chairs with deeply stuffed cushions and intricately carved backs. None of the furniture was polished or in the best of condition, but it was better than the furniture at Grim Kedar's and the other places they'd visited. Paintings hung on the walls, rendered by human artists of widespread reknown. Rig's eyes narrowed and fastened on one. It was painted by Usha Majere, Palin's wife-he'd seen enough of her work when he'd visited the Tower of Wayreth to recognize it, and he knew she wouldn't have painted this for an ogre chief. Stolen, he mouthed. Probably like everything else in this room.

A lanky human woman, scantily dressed in pale green scarves, bid them to select a spot at the table, and whispered that they should wait to sit. Then she clapped her hands and an ogress entered with a tray of drinks served in tall wooden cups. Behind the ogress came Donnag.

The chieftain was the largest ogre they'd observed since entering the city. Nearly eleven feet tall, he had wide shoulders on which sat shining bronze disks festooned with military medals-some recognizable from the Dark Knights and Legion of Steel Knights, a few with Nerakan markings. He wore a heavy mail shirt, which glimmered in the light of the thick candles that were spaced evenly throughout the hall, and beneath that an expensive purple tunic. Though dressed as regally as any monarch, he was nonetheless obviously an ogre, with warts and scabs dotting his wide, tanned face. Twin fangs jutted upward from his bottom jaw, and several gold hoops were pierced through his broad nose and his bulbous lower lip. His ears were hidden by a crownlike gold helmet embellished with exquisitely cut gems and grotesquely angled animal talons.

He moved gracefully and silently, however, gliding to the thronelike chair at the end of the table and folding himself into it. The human woman stood to his right, awaiting his orders. A nod from Donnag, and Maldred pulled out the chair for Fiona, then sat himself. The others followed, with Rig the last to comply. The mariner continued to look suspiciously about the room, noting the paintings and can-delabras and knickknacks that were certainly not fashioned for an ogre. A former pirate, Rig was quick to recognize plunder when he saw it.

The mariner's gaze occasionally rested on Fiona, who did not seem as concerned about her surroundings. But then the mariner reminded himself, she was being ruled by her belief that being here would somehow get her the coins and gems with which she could ransom her brother.

"We have not entertained a Solamnic Knight before," Donnag began. His voice was deep and scratchy, hinting at advanced years, but his command of the human tongue was precise. "We are honored to have you in our most esteemed presence, Lady Fiona."

Fiona didn't reply, although she was surprised he knew her name. And Donnag, perhaps sensing her uncertainty, was quick to continue. "It is good to have you in our humble home again, Maldred, and servant Ilbreth." The kobold nodded, smiling. "And friend of Maldred… Dhamon Grimwulf. Your glorious exploits are known to us, and we are impressed. And you are…?"

The mariner had been glancing at another painting, one depicting the eastern coast of Mithas, the Black Coast. The artist had rendered an early evening sky, and three moons hung suspended above the water-from a time before the Chaos War when Krynn had three moons. Lost in the painting, which stirred thoughts of the Blood Sea Isles, Rig was unaware the chieftain was talking to him.