them.”
“You mean the street preachers?” Arbuckle demanded.
The captain nodded.
“Damn it, man,” the mayor said. “Call out the guard. Seal off the city. I want them found. And I want to know who’s to blame!”
“I know,” the captain said. “I’ve already ordered those steps taken. But there’s more. You see, I thought they might have taken refuge in the temple, so I had my men search the building.”
“And?” Bladehook asked.
“And the priests are g-gone too!” the captain stammered. “All their belongings are there: the candles and fires are lit, there’s even a meal on the table, but the priests have vanished.”
Arbuckle swore in a long streak of barely-related expletives. For his part, Bladehook felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
“We can’t let them get away!” the latter said quickly. “If they all escape, the believers will claim it was some kind of miracle, and then we’ll be back where we started.”
“Or worse,” Arbuckle agreed.
“I’ve got men stationed at the upper gates and on all the side tunnels from the main cavern,” the captain said. “We’re stretched pretty thin, though. If only we knew where they were headed.”
“They must be trying to reach Bradok,” Jon said. “They’re the only support left for believers in the city.”
“Then we have to stop them,” Arbuckle said. “Captain, assemble as many men as you can and meet us in the Artisans’ Cavern.”
With that, the three dwarves charged out of the room, leaving the liquor bottle standing open on the desk.
Bradok blew the dust and shavings from the hole he’d just finished drilling in the front end of the ship’s keel. He slipped a long brass bolt into the hole and hung a small lantern on it, bolting it in place. The lantern held a glowstone, a rock that had been blessed by a priest so that it gave off a bright purplish light.
He straightened up, leaning back to crack his spine, then strode proudly to the ramp that led down from the completed ship. When Bradok arrived the week before, work on the ship had all but ceased. News of Silas’s arrest had dispirited those who believed him. Since then, Bradok had rallied Silas’s friends and family, convincing them that he would finish what Silas had started.
The job was finally finished.
They’d had to tear down the shop and some of the nearby walkways to find all the necessary wood, and they’d had to virtually barricade themselves inside there, away from the increasing encroachment of the city guard, but they’d done it.
“How much food do we have left?” he called to Perin.
The human looked up from where he’d been stacking their meager supplies. “Not more than three or four days, I’m afraid,” he said ruefully.
“Better hurry up; get it all loaded,” Bradok said. “At the risk of repeating myself, this is the day. I’m afraid we’d better get ready. Things are liable to get ugly before too long.”
As if on cue, the burly smith Kellik came scurrying around the stone chimney of the forge. “Bradok,” he called ahead. “There’s some trouble at the barricade. You’d better get down there.”
Bradok glanced back at Perin as he descended the narrow ramp. “Go ahead, get the women and children on board,” he ordered.
The barricade had been erected a little ways from the shop, in a narrow part of the cavern. Almost from the day Bradok arrived to help with the shipbuilding, Kellik had joined in and made the defense of the barricade his main responsibility.
As Bradok approached, he saw a knot of ragged, armed dwarves, each gripping his weapon. On the far side of the tangle of metal and wood, he could make out a small group of dwarves milling about.
“Much!” Bradok said when he got close enough to make out faces.
“There you are, lad,” the old dwarf said from the far side of the barricade. “Am I glad to see you!”
“What are you doing here?” Bradok asked.
“I … well, if it isn’t too late,
“You mean the street preachers?” Arbuckle demanded.
The captain nodded.
“Damn it, man,” the mayor said. “Call out the guard. Seal off the city. I want them found. And I want to know who’s to blame!”
“I know,” the captain said. “I’ve already ordered those steps taken. But there’s more. You see, I thought they might have taken refuge in the temple, so I had my men search the building.”
“And?” Bladehook asked.
“And the priests are g-gone too!” the captain stammered. “All their belongings are there: the candles and fires are lit, there’s even a meal on the table, but the priests have vanished.”
Arbuckle swore in a long streak of barely-related expletives. For his part, Bladehook felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
“We can’t let them get away!” the latter said quickly. “If they all escape, the believers will claim it was some kind of miracle, and then we’ll be back where we started.”
“Or worse,” Arbuckle agreed.
“I’ve got men stationed at the upper gates and on all the side tunnels from the main cavern,” the captain said. “We’re stretched pretty thin, though. If only we knew where they were headed.”
“They must be trying to reach Bradok,” Jon said. “They’re the only support left for believers in the city.”
“Then we have to stop them,” Arbuckle said. “Captain, assemble as many men as you can and meet us in the Artisans’ Cavern.”
With that, the three dwarves charged out of the room, leaving the liquor bottle standing open on the desk.
Bradok blew the dust and shavings from the hole he’d just finished drilling in the front end of the ship’s keel. He slipped a long brass bolt into the hole and hung a small lantern on it, bolting it in place. The lantern held a glowstone, a rock that had been blessed by a priest so that it gave off a bright purplish light.
He straightened up, leaning back to crack his spine, then strode proudly to the ramp that led down from the completed ship. When Bradok arrived the week before, work on the ship had all but ceased. News of Silas’s arrest had dispirited those who believed him. Since then, Bradok had rallied Silas’s friends and family, convincing them that he would finish what Silas had started.
The job was finally finished.
They’d had to tear down the shop and some of the nearby walkways to find all the necessary wood, and they’d had to virtually barricade themselves inside there, away from the increasing encroachment of the city guard, but they’d done it.
“How much food do we have left?” he called to Perin.
The human looked up from where he’d been stacking their meager supplies. “Not more than three or four days, I’m afraid,” he said ruefully.
“Better hurry up; get it all loaded,” Bradok said. “At the risk of repeating myself, this is the day. I’m afraid we’d better get ready. Things are liable to get ugly before too long.”
As if on cue, the burly smith Kellik came scurrying around the stone chimney of the forge. “Bradok,” he called ahead. “There’s some trouble at the barricade. You’d better get down there.”
Bradok glanced back at Perin as he descended the narrow ramp. “Go ahead, get the women and children on board,” he ordered.
The barricade had been erected a little ways from the shop, in a narrow part of the cavern. Almost from the day Bradok arrived to help with the shipbuilding, Kellik had joined in and made the defense of the barricade his main responsibility.
As Bradok approached, he saw a knot of ragged, armed dwarves, each gripping his weapon. On the far side of the tangle of metal and wood, he could make out a small group of dwarves milling about.
“Much!” Bradok said when he got close enough to make out faces.
“There you are, lad,” the old dwarf said from the far side of the barricade. “Am I glad to see you!”
“What are you doing here?” Bradok asked.
“I … well, if it isn’t too late,
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