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ability to rule.
    Now, he was left alone again to plan this battle, and while he had grown to enjoy developing the attacks, he didn’t like feeling unappreciated. Ever since his capture by and subsequent rescue from the ogres, Master Sondious felt that Kraganere no longer valued his service, as if somehow it were Master Sondious’s fault the kingdom were at war. Kraganere had said more than once that Master Sondious acted too aggressively and with too much venom, but Kraganere had not seen the savagery of the ogres firsthand. He was not the one who had been crippled by having his legs crushed by an ogre’s club, and he was not the one who had lain alone in snow for two days with no food or water. If Master Sondious did develop vicious battle tactics, it was only because he knew the darkness of the ogres’ hearts. And now, with this news of the heir, the king had even proposed that they postpone attacks and offer a truce. The very idea was preposterous.
    Suddenly, outside the room, a great commotion arose, and he and the king looked at each other and then at the door. In a moment, Captain Roighwheil entered the chamber, a smile across his face, and bowed to the two. The king rose from his seat, and Master Sondious called for his assistant to help with his chair.
    “What is this?” the king asked, his voice stern.
    “Sir, sorry to interrupt…”
    “We’ve grown accustomed to it,” Master Sondious muttered.
    “But there’s a visitor to see you,” the captain continued, ignoring him.
    With that he excused himself, backing out the doorway. A second later, a figure entered. He was taller than most dwarves but too short for a human, and his frame was thin and wiry. His left ear was mangled, his cheeks were sunken, and his beard was matted. His clothes were filthy, stained with splotches of mud and blood. His eyes flashed danger, making him the most wretched renegade Master Sondious had ever seen, and for several moments, the special advisor to the king had no idea who it was.
    “Roskin?” the king half-exclaimed, half-asked.
    “Hello, sir.”
    Master Sondious’s mouth fell open, and he studied the figure, trying to find a familiar feature. The heir had left the picture of health and royalty, his skin smooth and soft, his mannerisms spoiled and pampered, his eyes naïve and youthful. This dwarf had none of that.
    The king rushed across the room and embraced his son, sobbing audibly, a cross between ecstasy and despair. Roskin returned the embrace and cried, too. Master Sondious sat quietly. Though he couldn’t fully comprehend the moment, he respected how the king had missed his oldest child.
    “I thought I had lost you,” the king said, leaning back but still holding Roskin’s shoulders.
    “Me too, sir.”
    “They said the ogres sold you to the orcs.”
    “No, the ogres had nothing to do with it. I was captured by a Ghaldeon slave trader.”
    “Captain Roighwheil,” the king called. Still smiling, the captain stepped back into the room. “Send a message to the ogres that we request a temporary truce.”
    “You can’t do that!” Master Sondious yelled.
    “My friend,” the king responded, his voice lowering in authority. “There’s no reason to continue this war.”
    “If you surrender to them, you dishonor those who’ve fallen.”
    “Master Sondious, we’re not surrendering. We’ve held our gate.”
    “This war is my fault,” Roskin said, his voice cracking. “No one else needs to die.”
    “They need to pay!” Master Sondious’s eyes widened with rage.
    “That’s enough, Master Sondious,” the king said, gritting his teeth. “I have spoken.”
    The king turned back to his captain and repeated the order. The captain saluted and hurried from the chamber. Kraganere called for his attendant and motioned for Roskin to sit. Roskin adjusted the sword at his waist and settled onto the chair.
    “You look terrible, son,” the king said, taking his seat.
    “I’m sorry, sir.”
    “Roskin,