It wasn’t pleasant to watch Director Barclay’s eyes bulge in surprise or hear his wet chokes. But after that, mercifully, he died quickly.
Behind his prone form, Princess Borte suddenly appeared, Raya’s amulet in one hand.
Hassletoff retrieved his sword. ‘So, we can expect a terrible revenge now?’ he asked.
‘There’s one silver lining,’ said Borte, her face pale and her voice a monotone as she looked at the man she had killed. ‘My father and the Dark Lord didn’t know what was coming for them. We do.’
They didn’t waste any time. The very next day, the adventurers of Mer Khazer agreed to make Hassletoff the new Director of the Bureau of Dungeoneering. One of his first acts was to amend the constitution and identify dwarves, elves and halflings as racial groups, with as much right to be members of the Bureau as humans.
Ogres? Well, he promised to set up a committee to investigate the status of other races. In the meantime, he made Og-Grim-Dog an honorary member of the Bureau.
Grim walked with Gurin to the gates of Mer Khazer. The dwarf carried a heavy pack on his shoulders. ‘I don’t really understand,’ said Grim. ‘You’ve only just won your place back in the Bureau and you’re leaving?’
‘Yes, well. I have something to set right first. But I will return.’
‘Something to set right?’ asked Og. ‘You’re talking about the evil act you committed for the Dark Lord, aren’t you?’
The dwarf made a face. ‘That obvious is it?’
‘Oh, my Lord Vyana!’ exclaimed Dog. ‘You’re going to tell us what it is, aren’t you?’
Gurin sighed. ‘Alright, but it goes no further. I mean it!’
‘Of course,’ Og-Grim-Dog agreed.
‘It’s to do with Hurin, Durin, Thurin, Kurin, Tony and Maurin.’
‘I knew it!’ said Grim. ‘Wait, you didn’t kill them?’
‘Kill them? Of course not. I merely sold them to a travelling circus.’
‘You sold them? Into slavery?’
‘They’re not slaves as such. They just have to work for the circus for no money and aren’t allowed to leave. Anyway, that was my dark deed. I’m not proud of it. But I will do my best to make amends. And that has to count for something, right?’
A Parting
In the Flayed Testicles, an eerie silence greeted the end of the Landlord’s story. His customers had learned a lot more about his past, and not all of it had been good.
‘So,’ said the Recorder, as he shuffled his parchment into a neat pile. ‘You had tried the life of a hero and a villain?’
‘Yes,’ said the middle head. ‘And neither of them really worked out for us. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m sure there’s some people who are perfectly suited to such roles. Just not us.’
‘Interesting,’ said the Recorder in a cryptic manner. ‘So, Gurin the dwarf revealed to you the price he paid for a position with the Dark Lord. Betraying his six closest compatriots. Meanwhile, you maintain that the Dark Lord required nothing from you?’
An ominous growl from the Landlord was the only response to the Recorder’s interrogation.
‘Fair enough,’ the man conceded. He patted his pile of parchment. ‘Now, I need to return to my Publishing House. There they will make the first copy of these stories, and that will be used to make all subsequent copies. It is a long and laborious process. All in all, it will be some time before I can return.’
‘That’s fine with us,’ said the Landlord’s third head. ‘The next part of our life story won’t be easy to tell. We will need some time to think about how best to do it.’
‘Indeed,’ said the Recorder, with some sympathy. ‘Based on where you ended tonight, I can only assume that what followed was The War of The Dead.’
‘That’s right,’ said the first head. ‘And there were no heroes or villains in that war. Just those who survived somehow, and those who didn’t.’
End Credits
Three pairs of ogre eyes watched from the doorway of The Testicles, as the Recorder rode out of town, on a pony just as dishevelled looking as its owner.
‘He knows what we did,’ said the middle head.
‘He was just fishing,’ the third head reassured. ‘Our secret is safe.’