Gund could hear his king shouting from the far end of the hall. The first argument had ended quickly enough, with Lobuhl sated by having permission to detain Salimod’s goblin, and Balvor being assured Grar would not let any of Idana’s family be accosted. Lobuhl was not satisfied, though. His pride had been wounded, though he’d never admit it, by Balvor’s physical attack. All knew Balvor to be the strongest of the three, even if Grar could best them both in a fight. It was well enough for Lobuhl to be outdone by his elder brother and king, but he had a sour contempt toward his younger brother, and had set himself to strike at him through his new bride’s family. For the first few days it was cutting remarks, then bold accusations, and later Lobuhl had drawn his sword on Salimod’s guards.

“Salimod is a KING,” Grar bellowed. Gund couldn’t quite make out what Lobuhl was saying through the thick stone walls, though he could guess it well enough. When the prince’s voice carried on for longer than Gund expected, he found himself tempted to press his hand to the wall to hear better. The voice of his queen stopped him.

“Halfi,” he said without trying to hide his surprise, “I thought you’d gone to see Ror’s saved soul.”

“That was my intent,” said the queen. There was something unsettling to Gund in her voice. She’s genuinely afraid. The latest war counsel had been a somber affair. Grar was hopeful of Gund’s recruitment efforts, and Wulden had set a vicious network of traps for the goblins in all the tunnels they’d left unsealed. The work had been quick, and Gund’s new conscripts were strong and able. Still, despite the success of their efforts, and the persistent help from the elves of the Starwood, the Goblin King’s horde was vast and moved with unshakable intent. The condition of Salimod’s daughter was another source of concern, as the poor girl had been unconscious for almost a fortnight. Neri’s reports were bleak as well. His Owls were ready to assist, but they were specialists; long range scouts and commandos, neither trained nor equipped for pitched battle.

And then Ror’s inquest had produced unwelcomed repercussions. Koll had been proclaimed innocent beyond all doubt, and people who’d lost loved ones to the Underguard were growing angry with the crown. Many were crying for inquests to be made for all the doomed. Others were shouting against them, and the city guards had broken up several brawls already and Ormazum’s holding cells were filling quickly. Grar had tasked Urum with the building of more cells. Salimod had commented on the lack of dungeons being a weakness, and had moved his family to their topside camp for safety. Grar had loaned him three pairs of Stone Guards to send a message to his own people. And along with all these causes for worry, the soldier’s plague had continued to ravage Thrond’s army unabated.

“Our days have grown suddenly dark, Dread Majesty,” Gund said.

Halfi smiled. “Thrond has weathered many storms.”

Gund nodded. “I blame the titan’s torch for the current one.”

Halfi’s face twisted in disapproval. “Gund, a new star in the sky is a cause for rejoicing. All my life I’ve watched in sadness as they faded away, one by one. I’m glad for the red candle, despite the tumult that accompanies it. Gund, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything, my Queen.”

“It’s no small favor. In fact, it’s a favor I’d hoped to never ask. You’re the only one I can ask it of, and I’m sorry for that.”

Gund lowered his head and gestured to a bend in the hallway. The walked around the corner and retreated into an empty porter’s hall. “I repeat,” Gund said quietly, “anything, my Queen.”

Halfi held a small metal strongbox and a pair of keys on a chain. She removed a key and handed it and the strongbox to Gund. “What’s in it?” he asked when he’d taken them and tucked them into a pouch on his belt.

“I hope you will never know. Tell no one it exists, unless the worst should happen. If it does, then open it. If that time comes, I trust you to do what’s right. I beg you Gund, do not ask again what’s inside. While I live that box is to remain the best kept secret of our people.”

“I understand. I’ll do all you ask.”

She smiled and embraced him. “Thank you, old friend.” Gund saw light glinting off a tear on her cheek as she pulled away from him. She then hurried out of the room and disappeared down the hall.

Gund went to the door to Grar’s solar. Lobuhl was no longer speaking quietly, but shouting hatefully. “I’ll die before I see Thrond handed over to any of the five!” he was screaming. There was a silence after that remark, then he heard Grar’s voice rumbling menacingly just below the edge of his hearing. When the door finally opened, Lobuhl rushed out and almost knocked Gund over. He turned to look at the Army Chief for a moment, then stormed away. Gund looked through the open door of the solar. “May I enter, Dread Sovereign?”

“Don’t call me that,” Grar said, “not now. I need my friends, not my Chieftains.”

Gund entered slowly. Urum was seated at Grar’s dining table. His head rested wearily on one hand while the other held a parchment, it was trembling.

“I’m going to need you to find someone to take up the investigation of the soldier's plague,” his King said, “I’d given the task to my brother when you focused on conscripting. Lobuhl threatened to countermand my orders and turn our spears on Salimod. He had an order drafted for the soldiers guarding the trembling path to kill the human soldiers and put Salimod in irons. He stole my signet to seal the false orders with. He went too far Gund. I… I sent him away.”

Gund looked at Urum Brann. Urum was a man known far and wide for having a stone hard will, and he was crumbling. “You don’t mean…”

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“I banished him,” Grar said.

Gund’s hands began to tremble as well. Grar needs Lobuhl. He’s always needed Lobuhl. Lobuhl had been his brother’s staunchest supporter all his days as king. He had more than accounted for all Balvor lacked, and when Grar mourned for Yevn, it was Lobuhl who kept the kingdom strong. Could this be a ploy? Are our enemies truly this cunning? Gund was beginning to wonder who their enemies even were. It was a hard puzzle to solve, with so many pieces.

Salimod was known by all as a would-be schemer, always looking to attach himself to more powerful monarchs and being careless with his associates. But would he go so far as outright betrayal? Gund could not fathom such a thing, but he could fathom Salimod being used as a tool. But who was wielding him so? There was a quarter of a million goblins pouring into the dimlands and charging toward their gates, a lone drow spy caught on their summit where they’d found stolen drilling equipment, and two doomed men come back from the underlands had stirred the people to near revolt. At this critical time, Grar was driven to exile his own brother. Something twisted within Gund’s innards. A grim memory and a hated name churned in his gut. He’d known one foe who was cunning enough to strike at Thrond from within, and his hand seemed to be reaching from the grave to clutch at the kingdom’s heels.

“Valung’s behind this. It can only be him.” Urum said.

“Urum...” the King began to reply.

Urum stood, still clutching the parchment. “Grar, he outfoxed us once. He and he alone has been the only true threat to your reign. To deny his hand in all these things…”

“Our sentries in the deeplands would have warned us of any contact between the doomed and any of the five.”

Gund sighed heavily before speaking. “Assuming they’ve remained loyal. Grar, I truly do not wish to add to your grief, but I agree with Urum. Valung was always a charismatic man. He was able to turn your own Stone Guard against you and their sworn brothers. He’s been biding his time for forty years, and amidst the goblins invading, the drow of Primus spying on Magni, and Salimod being allowed within our gates, our soldiers are dying after two of the doomed have been brought back up. This cannot be a coincidence.”

“Gund,” said the king, “are you ready to entertain the notion of your nephew being a traitor?”

The words pierced Gund like a dagger. “Yes. I am. He’s been twenty years gone. Who can tell what words Valung spoke in his ear?”

“No,” said Urum, holding both his hands in the air as if to stop a fight. “We can’t draw such a conclusion. Perhaps Valung arranged for Buri to learn of Koll’s tale. He knew which of the Stone Guard he could turn, it’s not farfetched he would sense Buri’s compassion and use him to free Koll. And as for Koll, Ror’s inquest was conclusive. His case was handled poorly. It was our mistake to send him to the Underguard, and Valung was laying in wait for just such a misstep. We need look no further down that dark path my friends, the answer is plain.”

Grar turned his back on them both and strode slowly to his hearth. He then rested both his arms atop the mantle and laid his head on them.

“I can find Lobuhl,” Gund said, “he’s still in the mountain. I doubt he’s even reached his solar.”

“Let him go,” his king replied. “He’ll need time to cool his beard. I was angry, and I was harsh with him.”

“Where do you suppose he’ll go?”

“Some tavern in Corn Hill, or with our kin in Cloud Hammer, if he’s in no mood to be near humans.”

“We need him now,” said Urum.

“And what would you have me do, Urum?” Grar turned back to face them. “You saw him. You heard him. He wants to open Salimod’s throat. He’s hated Salimod since he first came here as a boy. Balvor’s marriage to Idana would be a prickly matter for him in the best of circumstances. With all the doom surrounding us Lobuhl can never accept any friendship between Thrond and High Alden. What’s said is said, Urum. He’s gone. Throw the order of his exile in the fire, but don’t think to turn him back now. ”

The King sighed and looked towards a nearby window. Thin spears of gold light lanced downward from outside and mingled with the dusty air of the solar. "When I was young, I read a book written by a very clever human by the name of Sable Penwright. He said that silence is a ruler's ally, for words are like arrows; once fired they cannot be withdrawn. I knew this once, but have since forgotten, along with many other truths."

"Light Bringer's Folly," said Urum, "I've read it. Lord Sable had a rare gift."

Gund felt an urge to put his hand on the pouch Halfi’s strongbox was in, but he restrained himself. The desire to know of its contents burned in his heart, but frightened him as well. There are enough ill tidings already. He then had a thought, a possible way to brighten things for his weary king.

“I’ve a notion,” he said. Grar and Urum both turned to him. “We can’t stop the goblin onslaught, nor can we imprison every man and woman who challenges Koll’s release or riots for more inquests. But, we can save our men. We have two of the sharpest minds in the known world within our halls, and as of now they’re both idle. They won’t like working together, but I believe that if they do, they’ll discover both the source of the plague, and its cure.”

A smile spread across Grar’s face and he almost laughed. “You’re a cruel man Gund. I’ll speak to Halfi tonight.”

Urum was at a loss. “Speak to Halfi about what, Dread Sovereign?”

“About sending her lamb to battle next to our wolf.”

Urum’s eyes lit up, and he did let out a laugh. “Halfur and Audun? Gund, our king speaks true. You are cruel man.”

“I am Army Chief,” Gund said, “my profession is destruction and woe. But give me due credit my friends. There’s some wisdom here as well as cruelty.”

“Yes,” said Urum, "Audun sees things in a way entirely his own, and our young prince is cautious and shrewd. So long as they can focus on the work and not their differences, I believe there’s no puzzle those two cannot solve.”