Trik - Betrayal in Rule

The Imperial Guards assisted Trik up from the dungeon and out into the light of day. It was morning, and the sky was red over the city. The city streets were filled with rubble and corpses, even as the golden spires of the palace shined in the sunlight.

“Mortimer and his soldiers have barricaded themselves in the palace,” said Durben. “The Duke says that he will kill the Emperor and his family if we try to enter.”

“The coward,” said Trik, his voice regaining some of its timbre.

A man with a golden helmet and a trim silver beard and white eyebrows joined Trik and Durben. “Captain of the Imperial Garrison,” said Durben, “Lord Ulrick.”

Lord Ulrick smiled. “I see Durben was not fooling me. You are indeed an elf. And, I hear you are a good fighter.”

Trik’s face hardened. “I’m better when I am not starved,” said Trik. He glanced at the palace. “Where is Mortimer?”

Lord Ulrick faced the highest tower and pointed at a balcony about thirty feet above the ground. “He is in there,” said Lord Ulrick. “We estimate there are still forty guards with him.”

Trik looked at the force of the Imperial Garrison arrayed in the street. “We have five times that number here,” he said.

“Yes,” said Lord Ulrick, “but Mortimer is not stupid. He holds the Emperor and his family hostage in the tower. We risk their lives, should we attempt to enter the palace.”

“We are at an impasse,” said Trik, his brow furrowing.

“I am afraid so,” said Lord Ulrick.

“And King Orodrin is marching,” said Trik.

“My scouts tell me,” said Lord Ulrick. “Orodrin’s army is three days away.”

“And the Legions?” asked Trik. “Where are they?”

“The closest is seven days march,” said Lord Ulrick. “I have sent messengers to alert them.”

“We do not have time to play Mortimer’s game,” said Trik. “We must free the Emperor, if there is any hope to defend the city.”

“You are not wrong,” said Lord Ulrick, “but Mortimer refuses to come out.”

“What have you offered him?” asked Trik.

Lord’s Ulrick’s eyebrows rose. “Offered him?” he said. “Duke Mortimer is a traitor. My Lord Emperor would never permit me to bargain with a traitor.”

“This is not an ordinary day,” said Trik. “King Orodrin’s army is marching. The Emperor must be free to defend the city.” His eyes narrowed on Lord Ulrick. “We must offer terms Mortimer will accept.”

Lord Ulrick’s face hardened. “And what sort of deal do you think we should offer the traitor?” he asked.

“Send a messenger,” said Trik, “tell Mortimer that we are prepared to offer him safe escort from the city—for him and his men.”

“Never,” shouted Lord Ulrick.

Trik turned to Durben. “Lord Durben is the son of Baron Linden, the Emperor’s closest confidant,” he said. “What does he say?”

Durben sighed heavily. “I say that we offer the Duke a safe passage,” he said.

Lord Ulrick frowned. “So be it,” he said. “I will arrange the meeting with the Duke.” He pointed at Trik. “And you will be there with me. If this should fail, it will be on your head.”