Sword of Kings
Chapter 28 – Making Adjustments

by Bill W

---

Legal Notice:
The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. 
The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality.
Don’t read this story if:
**You’re not 18 or over,    
**If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live,
**Or if you don’t want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex.

The author retains copyright to this story.  Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author’s permission is a violation of that copyright.  Legal action will be taken against violators.

I wish to extend my thank you to Emoe57 for his editorial assistance with this chapter.

E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other ‘constructive’ comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.

---

 

Beraut knocked at the door to King Brolin’s private quarters and it opened a few seconds later.  As he stepped inside, he could see the king and a couple of his military leaders sitting and chatting. 

“Good evening, Beraut,” the King greeted him, as soon as he saw the enchanter enter.  “Come in and make yourself comfortable.  I hope you don’t mind that I’ve invited Commander Elgin and Captain Baith to join us?”

“Not at all, Your Majesty,” the wizard responded.  “I would need to brief them anyway, so this will save me some time.”  The King nodded his understanding.

“Please tell us that things went as planned with the others,” the dwarf ruler replied, “and that Kieren is well.”

“No harm has befallen Kieren, but not all of the other members of the group were quite so fortunate.  I’m sorry to say that Doenilio is no longer among the living.”  A collective gasp was heard and each of them sat dumbfounded for a few seconds, before King Brolin finally broke the silence. 

“What happened to him?” he finally choked out.  The mage could see the sadness the King felt reflected in his eyes.  After all, he was the one who had volunteered Doenilio and the others for that hazardous duty and Beraut could understand how he might feel responsible for what had happened.

“There was an accident,” the wizard explained, “which caused him to lose his helmet.  That exposed him to the madness of the valley, which led to his death.”  The wizard took a deep breath and looked around the room, studying the faces before him. 

“I’m afraid that is not the only news I bring which may not be welcome to your ears,” he continued, “and this information will also affect our plans, especially those of Commander Elgin and his troops.”  At the mention of his name, Commander Elgin leaned forward, so he could hear every word the wizard was about to utter.  “Have any unexplained disappearances been reported lately?” Beraut asked.

The dwarfs looked around at each other, silently deciding who should speak.  “Only one,’ replied the Commander, once he felt it was up to him to do so.  “A messenger was dispatched several weeks ago and did not reach his destination.  He has not been heard from since.”  Beraut looked at them, trying to think of the best way to break the news, but he felt it was probably best to just get to the point.

“I regret to inform you that your messenger has suffered the same fate as Doenilio.  I discovered his remains as I traveled through Death’s Door.”

“Death’s Door?  That’s impossible.  His destination was nowhere near there!” Captain Baith blurted out. 

“I’m afraid he was attacked,” the wizard responded, “and carried to the spot where I discovered him.”  Beraut could see the agitation building in the young military man and he understood there was more at play here than met the eye. 

“But how?” the captain of the guard asked, probably more forcefully than was wise.  “Why would anyone ambush him and then carry him to that god forsaken place?” 

“At the moment, those reasons are unimportant,” Beraut responded.  Although Baith wasn’t happy with this response, he decided to ask another question, instead of debating the point. 

“Do you know who did this?” Captain Baith asked the wizard, looking very concerned.

“I do,” the mage responded.

“Then I must know who the culprit was!” Baith announced, agitated. 

“It is not a foe that you or your troops would be able to deal with on your own,” the wizard informed him. 

“I will do what I must,” Baith continued, the volume of his voice rising with every syllable he uttered.  “It is my duty to avenge his death and I will not rest until that deed is done!”  As the captain finished, he glanced around the room and noticed everyone’s eyes were locked upon him.  Seeing the others’ expressions made him realize he had concluded his statement with such volume and forcefulness that it still hung in the room as an uncomfortable silence.  No one seemed to know how to respond to him, after his forceful outburst. 

“He was my cousin,” Captain Baith said softly, at the same time offering it as an apology and explanation.  “And I fear no foe,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Your courage speaks for itself, sir, and your passion for your family is indeed great,” the wizard replied, “but I pray you can control your hasty impulses.  King Brolin and Commander Elgin have both told me about your potential as a leader, but they have also expressed concerns about your frequent inability to control your emotions.  If you continue to react in such a rash fashion, I think your days as a valued leader are numbered.”  Captain Baith turned crimson after this rebuke. 

“But it is my duty,” the captain tried to explain, convincing no one in the room.

“I’m sure your intentions are honorable,” Beraut told him, “but an attempt of this nature will only lead to your own demise.  You see, the one who killed your cousin was not man, elf, dwarf, gnome, troll, or any other race you know of.”

“Then what was it?” the captain asked, confused and unable to comprehend how an assassin couldn’t belong to one of those groups.

“It is something you have only heard about in legend,” the wizard continued, “and, until recently, something I had hoped had died out long ago.  It is a creature that even I am not sure if I can battle on my own.” 

 “I certainly do not question your powers or abilities, Master Beraut,” Baith told him, “but there is no creature that I would run from, especially if it were the one who killed my kinsman.” 

“From what you have told us, Beraut,” King Brolin interjected, in an attempt to clarify the situation, “I take it you are not referring to the Dark Lord.”

“To be certain,” the wizard replied.  “It is not Madumda’s powers to which I allude, your majesty.  The brute to which I am referring is one of the Dark Lord’s creations, one of enormous size and physical strength.  It is a creature that might even be able to withstand the most powerful blow I could deliver against it.”

“You don’t mean?  No, that can’t be,” the King thought aloud, an expression of horrified unease etched on his face.

“Yes, it could be and it is,” the wizard told them all.  “It’s one of Madumda’s condors,” he stated, succinctly, as he turned toward Captain Baith.  He looked the young officer directly in the eyes and held his gaze, before filling him in concerning the monstrous bird.  Once he was certain the captain understood this new foe, he continued. 

“That’s what killed Doenilio and your cousin,” the enchanter advised them, “and I humbly request that you please extend my condolences to both of their families.” 

“I shall see it is done,” King Brolin responded, which caused Beraut to nod his head once, as a silent thank you.

“This creature will be an unforeseen threat to the group heading to Tunstan,” Beraut continued, after a brief pause, “so we will now have to factor it into our planning.”

“Do you have any suggestions as to what I should do to protect my troops against this threat?” Commander Elgin followed. 

“I do have ideas about how we might camouflage your men and possibly keep your warriors from having an encounter with that monster.”  The commander nodded his understanding.  “To pull this off,” the wizard continued, “your men will need to bring with them a rectangular wicker basket lid, a large piece of burlap, and a supply of items that would be found at the lower reaches of the mountain slopes.  That would include twigs, small stones and various small plants, which should be collected in such a manner that the dirt is still clinging to their roots.”

“I believe I understand what you are up to,” Commander Elgin replied. 

“I’m sure you do,” the enchanter replied, while cracking a wry and understanding smile, before turning toward Captain Baith.  “Would you mind if I accompanied you and your troops to Veleda?” 

“No, not at all,” the captain of the guard responded.  “My troops and I will be greatly honored by your presence.  You shall join me in a position at the front of the ranks, along with King Brolin.”  At this pronouncement, the enchanter furrowed his brow and gave a puzzling glance at the monarch. 

“Captain Baith, you are to make sure your warriors are ready to leave as soon as I have finished assisting Commander Elgin’s troops.  I shall expect all of you to be standing ready at the front gates an hour before midday.”  The captain of the guard nodded his understanding, thinking Beraut had finished with him, but the wizard had more to say.  “Please order your soldiers to carry their repelling shields and a couple of pieces of burlap, large enough to wrap their shield in.  I have another idea for your forces, although it has nothing to do with the condor.”  The captain was shocked by this proposal and challenged the enchanter’s wisdom. 

“But we will be far more likely to be involved in hand-to-hand combat, rather than repelling an artillery assault,” he argued, convinced the mage’s decision was misguided.  “Our battle shields would be a far wiser choice for what we will be facing?”

“They would, if I was concerned only about the battle itself,” the mage agreed, “but they would not be appropriate for the task I have in mind for you.  When the time comes, your men may fight using their repelling shields or discard them and grab a battle shield from a fallen soldier.”  Captain Baith thought about this suggestion briefly, before responding.

“That would be an acceptable option,” he relented, “providing the tide of battle allows us to make that exchange.  However, I don’t see that happening.  It will be very awkward and difficult to bend down to recover a shield, while you are tying to keep from being killed.”  This comment caused Beraut to raise his eyebrows and King Brolin and Commander Elgin to both flinch, at this apparent challenge and unmilitary-like questioning of orders. 

“Once again,” Beraut begin to chastise him, “your rashness causes you to misgauge the situation.”  The wizard stared at Baith, studying him and noting his discomfort.  After a few uncomfortable seconds, the mage spoke again, before Baith had another chance to comment.  “I didn’t mean for you and your men to procure the shields DURING the battle, but possibly before or after a skirmish.  I’m sure your troops could survive at least one brief encounter using their repelling shields.”

By this time, Captain Baith was quite red in the face, as this rebuke stung him sharply.  He was about to confront Beraut again, when Commander Elgin cut him off.  “Captain Baith,” he said quite loudly, to make sure he had his subordinate’s attention.  “If Beraut has nothing more for us, then I think you and I need to go prepare our troops.”  The Commander now turned toward the enchanter, while Captain Baith was still looking at him.  “Master Beraut, if we may have your leave?”

“You may,” the wizard offered simply, realizing what Elgin was trying to do.  As the dwarfs were leaving the room, Beraut offered one more comment.  “I shall see you both in the morning.”

As the two military leaders closed the door behind them, the dwarf King turned toward the wizard, acting as if he expected Beraut to leave too.  He assumed the mage had matters he might wish to attend to as well.  However, the enchanter didn’t move.  Instead, he began to address the sovereign.

“He may turn out to be a fine leader some day,” Beraut began, “but he has some personal issues to overcome, such as giving in to his emotional impulses.”

“I agree,” the King stated, “but he has many remarkable qualities.  In time, I believe he will learn to think things through and learn not to act solely on his feelings.”

“Speaking about acting upon one’s feelings, I think there is another issue we need to discuss,” the mage announced, giving the King a strange and stern look.  “Brolin, my dear friend, I don’t think going on this mission is a wise move on your part.  We have discussed this before, in private, and you have admitted to me that you are no longer young enough for the rigors of battle.  So why are you doing this?” 

“Because I must,” Brolin replied, quite adamantly, while scowling at the mage, “and you are not going to keep me out of this fray, even if I am not the warrior I once was.”  Beraut continued to glare at the dwarf leader, but it was not having the desired effect. 

“Your looks do not intimidate me,” the defiant dwarf continued, “and you will not convince me to stay behind.  I will fight beside my countrymen against this scourge, for good or for ill.” 

“Be reasonable,” the wizard countered, trying to persuade his old friend using logic.  “How will you be able to stand against a barrage of foes who are but a mere fraction of your age?” 

“My age?” the dwarf shouted back, his face reddened and his muscles tense.  “You are considerably older than I am, but that is not keeping YOU out of the action!”

“You know that is not a fair comparison,” the enchanter responded, using a soothing tone, hoping that would be enough to cool his impassioned response.  “You must realize my magical potential gives me abilities and strength that even the years cannot dim, but that is not the case for you.  You will be exhausted long before the battle is over, which will place your life in grave jeopardy.” 

“That may be true,” the King conceded, “but I have concluded that, if this effort should not succeed, I wish not to be around to witness the consequences of our failure or to witness the things Madumda does in triumph.” 

“And have you also considered that you might also not be around to enjoy your contributions either,” Beraut persisted, “should we be victorious?”

“That thought has also crossed my mind,” the dwarf confessed, “but I am willing to take that chance.” 

“How about your people?” Beraut countered.  “Are they willing to take the chance that you won’t be around to lead them, if we are successful?” 

“We will worry about that when the time comes,” the King responded, though it sounded more of a ploy to get the wizard to quit questioning his decision.  “We must deal with first-things-first and that is defeating our enemy.” 

“And you don’t think we can do that without you?” Beraut asked, unconvinced.

“I’m sure I will make little difference in the outcome,” King Brolin admitted, using a less harsh tone.  “Even though I may not be needed, I still wish to do my part.  If the gods’ will that I lead my people after this is over, then they will see to it that I survive.”  Beraut began to realize this decision was based more on pride and the need to feel useful, rather than anything else. 

“You are more obstinate than I remembered,” Beraut announced, when it appeared he wasn’t going to be able to change his friend’s mind, “but maybe I can offer you an alternative.  Would you be willing to serve as one of my battlefield advisors?  That way you could stay in the rear and help direct the battle, without having to get physically involved.”

“That would not be my first choice,” King Brolin admitted, “but it is better than staying behind.  If that will keep you from badgering me, like a nagging dwarf wife, then I will accept your offer.”

“Fine.  Then I shall mention your stubbornness no more,” the mage replied, slipping in one parting shot.  “I must reluctantly admit, however, that your experience in battle could be a major asset to us along the way.”  The dwarf feigned a mock expression of surprise.

“I’m glad to hear you say that you think I might still prove useful,” he responded, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. 

“I have never doubted your ability and only occasionally have I questioned your judgment,” Beraut countered, with a broad smile on his face, and more than a touch of cynicism to his tone, “but this just happens to be one of those instances.  However, I welcome your company now.”

“Thank you, my wise friend,” King Brolin responded, now also smiling, “but I also welcome the chance to sleep.  The hour is growing late, and as you have so sweetly pointed out, I am not a spring chicken any longer.” 

“I would certainly not impede an old man’s slumber,” the wizard offered, quite matter-of-factly, though unable to conceal the wry grin crossing his lips.  “I shall see you in the morning, then.  Sweet dreams, my irascible friend.” 

King Brolin nodded, before reciprocating with an equally pleasant parting wish for a pleasant night’s slumber.  The wizard then left the room and hurriedly made his way back to his own bedchamber, so he could finish a few tasks he had not yet had time to complete.  He was only partially finished with these preparations when he started to grow drowsy and his head began to nod downward.  He knew he couldn’t afford to stop now, even though his weariness was beginning to overcome him.  Desperately, Beraut struggled to remain awake long enough to complete his work, and once he had completed his task, he dragged himself over to the bed and fell on top of the covers.  He didn’t even take time to put on any bedclothes and passed out the moment his body hit the soft embrace of the mattress.