The Last Satyr: The Two Paths Part 2
Mills Breath

Morning came to the dwarf city and Graybeard, Amien, and young Joe breakfasted with the dwarves under torchlight, their wisps of black smoke smudging the ceiling and mixing with the smell of dwarf pudding. Marroh was still missing from the group. But there were a fair number of dwarves dining and they were friendly to them, as all dwarves are. They too wanted news and their questions varied, but all asked if it was true that over two thousand (some said “five thousand” or even “ten”) soldiers were outside beyond the walls and trying to reach them. Graybeard confirmed it (but giving no number) and that they were being held up by the orcs at Thera Pass.

Every dwarf was of the same opinion.

“They’ll never get through Thera Pass without help. It is too narrow and too easily defended against a frontal assault.”

And Graybeard agreed and said that was why he was here.

The dwarves became restless to go out to their aid. For abandoning friends was not something dwarves do.

By noon (or so they reckoned in the darkness by lunch being served), they were interrupted from their meal by an order to appear before Arnen Fang. They obeyed and found the city's governor displeased. Marroh was standing beside him with an unsuppressed smile.

“You think you are clever with your magician’s tongue, Graybeard,” Arnen accused. “You have made it known that an army sits just beyond at Thera Pass, waiting to come to our rescue. Every dwarf now turns against me, demanding we attack! You usurp my authority, repay my hospitality with treachery, and plant false hope in my people’s minds!”

“I have only planted the truth,” replied Graybeard. “Or did you not wish them to know the truth?”

“Truth? What is the truth? My king spoke the truth—for all the good it did him. He’s still dead and half the city slaughtered! Now you would have the other half die too to save your two elves. So who saves us?”

“On your present course, no one,” Graybeard said. “Certainly not you. You have guaranteed yourself of no rescue and no retreat. You will die behind these walls just as your king and his sons did. I guess that makes you no different from him.”

There was no such thing as an evil dwarf but, if there was, it would have been Arnen Fang. He was without love, honor, or tradition. Yet he was not stupid, cruel, or a fool, either.

“There is still hope for you,” Graybeard smiled. “You can be a king yet.”

“It seems I have no choice now, do I?” responded Arnen Fang. “You force me to follow in the steps of failure!”

“Do not call your king a failure,” the ancient keeper warned. “Ask yourself how many of your people would still be alive if you had been the king from the beginning? If you can honestly say more, then he failed.”

The dwarf was unpersuaded of his own measure and nor did he care.

“Don’t bother with your double-sided logic,” he conceded. “You have won! I should have known I could not match wits with you or stand in your way! The damage is done. The victory is yours! For better or worse, we march out of these walls and do whatever fate awaits us at Thera Pass. Congratulate yourself on your accomplishment!”

“No,” Graybeard said. “Congratulate yourself on yours. You are about to be a king!”

“Or a fool,” replied the dwarf.

“Or a fool,” Graybeard admitted. “But, if a fool, they will at least sing songs to you.”

Arnen Fang ignored that with spiteful eyes.

“Since you have planned all this out,” he said, “I assume you have a signal to coordinate the attacks?”

“I do,” answered Graybeard. “I shall light up the top of Thera Pass from the south side. That will signal you to attack from the east. You will replace the distance you must travel to be short against these half-orcs. At the same time, the satyrs will attack from the north flank and the Black Dragons will advance from the west. Although I cannot dazzle these man-orcs, they will not like the light and I will draw their attention to me on their south flank and away from you and the others.”

“I will order every dwarf to put on his best armor and sharpen his axe.”

“I make one last request,” said Graybeard.

“What is that?”

“Give your people the honor of having you lead their charge.”

Was it an honor or an invitation for Arnen Fang to be killed and replaced?

Arnen Fang was silent for a moment as he dwelled on that very thought.

“May my death be a glorious one,” he decided with a low growl.

“No,” replied Graybeard. “May your victory be a glorious one”