Dark Thane

"Quite the opposite, my lord," Ferro answered without looking the thane in his remaining eye. He couldn't pull his gaze away from that milky white orb resting in its bruised flower of flesh. "The testimony of… um… of Thane Quickspring… that is to say… "

"Spit it out!" Jungor barked impatiently.

"Does it hurt?" Ferro asked, edging closer. He reached out one hand and gingerly touched the ruined flesh of Jungor's cheek.

The thane jerked away as though touched by a snake. "Like the unholy blazes of the Abyss. Now get on with your report!" he shouted.

Composing himself, Ferro continued. "Thane Quickspring continues to spread word of her vision."

"Who asked her to meddle in this affair?" Jungor asked, his gaze turning to Hextor.

"Her staff proved quite useful," Ferro remarked. Jungor scowled at him, but then his face grew thoughtful.

"This vision of hers may prove more useful still," Hextor said in a soft voice.

Jungor nodded slowly and motioned for Ferro to continue.

The Daergar cleared his throat. "All known accomplices, acquaintances, and family of Vault Forgesmoke are being rounded up as we speak."

"Find them. Hunt them down to the last dwarf," Jungor said through clenched teeth. "I want to question them myself. Tarn Bellowgranite arranged this, mark my words. He arranged it to happen while he is away, to remove any possible link back to himself. That link is there, and I want you to find it!" In his fury, he sat up on the table, eliciting vehement protestations from the physician.

Jungor turned his rage against his healer. "Dig this thing out of my face or I'll have you replaced. Permanently!"

Shrugging, the doctor picked up a black pottery bottle and removed its stopper. He tipped its liquid contents onto a handkerchief. Jungor's nose wrinkled at the pungent aroma. "What is that?" he demanded.

"Something to make you sleep while I operate," the doctor said.

"Put away your potions. You won't use any magic on me," Jungor said. Shrugging, the doctor set aside his anesthesia and picked up a long, narrow-bladed knife and a pair of thin tongs from the table. Climbing up on the table beside the thane, he set one knee across Jungor's thigh and commenced probing the ruined orb's socket.

After a few moments of watching, Hextor's knees buckled. He sank beside a washbasin. Astar closed his eyes, but Ferro continued to observe the procedure with professional fascination.

Meanwhile, Jungor sat stoically under the doctor's ungentle ministrations. He said through gritted teeth, "The people love me, they look to me for leadership, not Tarn Bellowgranite-that half-breed whelp of a Daergar bitch, may his father's bones rot."

The doctor popped Jungor's ruined eye from its socket and dropped in with a wet plink into a bucket beside the table. The thane didn't even wince, but Hextor gripped the edge of the washbasin as though the room were turning over. Astar shook his head in disbelief, and Ferro giggled nervously. Jungor snatched a rag from the table and began toweling out the empty socket.

"I should cleanse the wound with dwarf spirits," the doctor said.

"I'll do it myself," Jungor growled.

"I'm sure you will," the doctor responded as he began to gather his instruments. "Have a care that you don't pour the dwarf spirits directly into your brain pan."

"Thank you. You've done quite enough," Jungor sneered. "You have other patients, I'm sure."

"The king couldn't have arranged this without the aid of Thane Shahar Bellowsmoke," Ferro said.

"What do you know of Vault Forgesmoke's family?" Jungor asked. "Is there a connection to the thane?"

Ferro tugged his chin whiskers in thought, slowly massaging his thick lower lip. "The Forgesmoke clan are cousins to the Bellowsmoke, so there is the familial connection. Thane Bellowsmoke is cousin to the king… but if Tarn ordered this, it will be difficult to prove. It is dangerous to challenge us Daergar at this time. Most of our warriors refused to go with Tarn on his mad adventure to save the elves, but Shahar is said to be loyal, if any Daergar can be called loyal."

"Present company excluded," Jungor interjected.

Ferro smiled, revealing a row of uneven brown teeth. "Of course!"

Somewhat recovered, Hextor said, "Thane Bellowsmoke has little love for you, my lord, and that makes him a friend of the king. If a confession were arranged, it could be used to overthrow Tarn Bellowgranite."

The doctor dropped one of his metal instruments in surprise, its sharp metal clatter punctuating the look of horror on his face. He quickly gathered it up and stuffed it into his bag.