In The Doghouse

Dorgath searched for his quarry, his muscles taut and ready to strike, tensed underneath his bone white coat. His head swiveled in an agonizingly slow arc, looking for any sign of movement. No sound existed in the room; everything was quiet and peaceful, despite the tension filled air. The emperor frowned. It shouldn’t be this hard to find his enemy.

“Where o where has my little Lapis gone? She must have vanished off the face of the planet! I just can’t find her!”

A tiny giggle came from his left, underneath the bed. Dorgath walked over and lowered himself to his paws and knees, turning his head to look under the wooden frame that supported the mattress. A golden colored sheet obscured his view. “Did I just hear something from under the bed?”

Another bleat of laughter crept from beneath the bed. “I think I did. Is it a monster? Or is it…” Dorgath trailed off, lowering his voice. “Lapis!” he shouted, pulling the sheet up. A shriek of mock terror greeted his ears as the tiny, blue dragoness rushed out from under the bed, tiny scaled claws slapping on marble floors. Her plain white dress rippled about her knees as she ran, her father hot on her heels. Dorgath charged after her, bounding over the bed in a single leap, roaring like an angry manticore! He landed on all fours, the hair on his back risen.

Lapis used her small size to her advantage, sliding on her stomach into a bookfort that had been constructed earlier, made from colorful children books, the print in large, bold letters. Dorgath copied the dragon, comically sliding forward with his arms outstretched, like a superhero flying in the clouds. The mighty Diamond Dog crashed into the fortress, the paper ramparts no match for such a force. Books tumbled and fell, trapping the once great emperor and his prey.

Or so he thought. Lapis had already gone through the other side and vaulted over a wall constructed from sturdy grammar tomes, skidding along the floor and spinning to meet her attacker. A pile of books haphazardly cloaked the dog, all four limbs sticking out. One paw quivered like a jelly dessert. Lapis moved towards the catastrophe, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

Without warning the two paws shot from the books and gripped the baby dragon around the middle, lifting her high into the air. Dorgath stood to his full height, giving his daughter a steely glare while she twisted to escape from the grasp of her captor, chortling all the while. The emperor moved his face to within an inch of hers and whispered “Got you.”

In a blur he threw Lapis into the air, so high she could touch the vaulted ceiling with a claw. The dragon laughed and laughed as Dorgath caught her and repeated the motion, much to the joy of the tiny reptile. For the next few minutes they played, chasing one another around the bedroom, jumping on the plush, oversized goose feather bed, and generally making a mess. From the crying pile of books, their pages crumpled and covers bent, to the scattered toys and stuffed animals sitting in numerous nooks and crannies, beady marble eyes watching the father and daughter have fun.

One thing in the world gave Emperor Dorgath Forge true, unlimited happiness, and that was playing with Lapis. Around ten years ago, back when he was only eighteen, while his father still sat upon the obsidian throne, the mastiff had gone on a hunting expedition into the Everfree Forest along with a few guards and some friends. Manticores had become a recent problem, the devilish creatures leaving the shadowy confines of the ancient trees and olden groves to attack farms or travelers near the forest’s edge. They spent three days in the Everfree, stalking about, hiding beneath dense foliage and tracking prints in the soft loam. Despite the reports no sign was found of the cats, just a disturbing lack of prey animals.

On the third day Dorgath had hit pay dirt. A few miles in, past a thin river and hidden away in the confines of a secluded glen, a pack of the things, over twenty, had been found resting in the sun, exposed bellies soaking up the warmth. An assault from the trees of arrows tipped with poison and heads five inches wide had taken out more than half, and the rest were dispatched with sword and spear and just a bit of combat magic. One guard had suffered a gash to the arm, but no worse for wear. An exploration of the surrounding territory had revealed a cave, almost perfectly circular, drilled into the side of a hill. A dragon’s cave. The fetid smell of decay aroused suspicions that a local dragon, a species that was none to hunt manticore, had died.

It turned out to be true. Inside the cave was the rotting body of a once noble dragon, the bones still coated with chunks of flesh. A sizable hoard of gold and jewels was cause for much rejoicing, but Dorgath had been drawn to something else entirely. A clutch of eggs, untended by the heat of the mother. They had been collected and brought back to the palace, and the mages gave a grim prognosis; without a mother the eggs would die. Dorgath had tried anyway, heating the eggs for weeks. His efforts were greatly rewarded.

Lapis, sweet, adorable little Lapis, the cutest thing he had ever seen. Her large, shiny eyes looking out on the world, her blue scales soft and supple. Lapis had considered Dorgath to be her parent on first sight, and the dog had answered, officially adopting her as his daughter and crowning her as a member of the royal family, much to the outrage of the nobles and his father. Dorgath had issued a challenge to any noble that took offense, including his father; a duel. Many challenged the young dog, and all were completely and utterly destroyed, leaving no doubt in the minds of the nobility that Dorgath would defend Lapis with his last breath.

The sharp sound of a set of knuckles on the wooden door was followed by a voice. “Emperor Dorgath. Your presence is requested in the situation room.”

With a loud, shuddering sigh Dorgath leaned down and gave Lapis a pat on the head, running his hand along her brilliant purple spines. “Daddy has to go now, sweetie. Be good for Mrs. Borswater when she gets here, okay?”

“Aaw. But I want to play with you some more,” Lapis whined, visibly deflating like a popped balloon. Her earflaps drooped. It was all Dorgath could do to keep from ignoring the request.

“Look, honey, I want to play with you some more, too, but I can’t. My job is important remember?”

“Yeah. But Mrs. Borswater isn’t as fun as you. She smells like mothballs, too,” the little dragon huffed.

Dorgath snorted, suppressing a laugh. Mrs. Borswater, a portly bitch that acted as Lapis’s caretaker did, indeed, smell strongly of mothballs. But she had been Dorgath’s caretaker when he was a pup, and was the best dog for the job. Playful, but with a modicum of discipline. Dorgath grimaced when he realized the old bitch would have a fit at the state of his daughter’s room. He could expect a lecture later in the evening.

Truth be told, she was the only dog that truly scared him.

“It isn’t nice to say that dogs smell like mothballs, Lapis.” His voice tried to be stern, but it was obvious the undercurrent of humor. “Though I have an idea on how to make it up to you.”

“How?”

“Later we’ll go and get some donuts from that place you like. What was it called again?”

“Doggy Joe’s! Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do. Now try and tidy up the room a bit. You’ll catch an earful from Borswater otherwise.” Dorgath gave his daughter a pat, who then spun around to face the cataclysmic mess that was once a bedroom. She sighed as her daddy stepped from the room and closed the door behind him.

***

The Royal Palace, once a fort no bigger than a barn and surrounded by stone and wooden walls had grown and changed over the centuries, with numerous add-ons and renovations done to ensure it withstood the unforgiving elements or a siege. About five hundred years ago it was completely stripped down to the foundations and rebuilt into what the citizens of Senpaga knew and saw today. Rooms and chambers broke off from hallways, serving a myriad of functions. Servants either lived in the small but cozy southwest wing or had their own homes in the city. The royal family was situated in a series of rooms that served as an almost miniature house with a castle erected around it. Personal bedrooms and bathrooms were connected to hallways that ended in personal studies, libraries, and kitchens, all for the comfort and wellbeing of the royals.

Dorgath, flanked on both sides by guards wearing a heavy, plated armor trudged loudly to the situation room, an appendage that stuck out from the main body of the throne room and was used for private matters and secret meetings, though Dorgath himself would regularly take breaks inside with a bottle of fine wine on the pretense of official business. Rarely did it have much use, the mastiff preferring to be briefed in the throne room.

Soon they arrived to a door stamped into a hallway wall, a nondescript, dull thing that looked more like a supply closet than the entrance to a meeting room. Dorgath grabbed the cold, steel handle and looked to his two guards. “Wait outside.”

Both nodded and took up their positions, stiffening up like statues on either side of the door. Dorgath turned the handle and entered the room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. Inside it was warm and comfortable, a moderate sized room filled with soft, red velvet furniture arranged in a circle around a solid table. Unlike the stone floors of the hallway the situation room had a thick, dark blue carpet, silky under the emperor’s bare feet. A fireplace housed a few measly, smoldering coals, barely any life or heat left in them. On one of the couches was the all too familiar sight of Professor Sapphire, even more nervous than he had been in the throne room. The Corgi visibly shook like a prisoner before an execution. He clung tightly to his miniscule staff, knuckles white under the fur. Beside him stood a Dalmatian, about a head shorter than Dorgath himself, mottle with spots and flecks of night-black on the otherwise white coat. A chainmail vest, shining pale silver in the light radiating from the magical lamps on the walls was wrapped around his chest, while his pants were an apathetic grey. Massive forearms wore metal bracers, bronze colored, runes etched into the metal.

“Captain Sleipnir, Professor Sapphire,” he greeted. “I’m assuming this has to do with the phenomenon yesterday. Have you found anything?”

The captain stepped forward, completely formal, nary a hint of emotion. He lifted an arm to his head and saluted. “We haven’t found any physical evidence of a foreign presence, but an incident occurred a little while ago that may hold significance, your Highness.”

“And what would that be, Captain?”

“Around two hours ago, at about noon, a magical explosion was witnessed on the outskirts of the city, out near the farmlands. It was massive and the magic released was very dense, but luckily only one dog was injured, a male. Luckily his injuries won’t be fatal.”

“Do you have an ID on him?” Dorgath asked.

“I think Professor Sapphire should explain further. If you would be so kind, Professor?”

Dorgath turned to the professor, who cowered low and looked ready to faint. The old Corgi took a breath and managed to choke out a sentence. “His name is Nokto Tresbulon, your majesty, and he is my assistant.”

A thick, oppressing silence engulfed the room for a moment, like a person’s breath smothered beneath a pillow. Dorgath narrowed his eyes at the miniscule dog. “So you mean to tell me, that a day after the phenomenon that you have been monitoring and researching stops, your personal assistant suffers injuries in some event that could either be a tragic accident, or some form of attack? That appears suspicious, Sapphire.”

“I know that it seems that way, but I have no idea what happened! Nokto is my assistant, that’s true, and he knew about my research and helped to collect information, but believe me when I say that I don’t know about this incident. The explosion was likely caused by the destruction of Nokto’s staff, something that could have occurred from a simple flaw in a complex spell. This is all a coincidence, I assure you!”

Captain Sleipnir cut in. “It might be a coincidence, but that is highly unlikely. You have connections with the current Duke of Stonewall, do you not?”

Sapphire leaned back like he was struck at the look of malice Dorgath wore on his face. A low growl rumbled in the massive dog’s throat. “Is it true, Sapphire?”

“Y-yes, I was the personal tutor for the current duke when he was a pup, but that was over twenty years ago! I severed my connections with the Stonewalls when I began teaching at the college!”

Sleipnir sneered at the professor. “Severed your connections, did you? I looked into the backers of that little monitoring project that detected the first increase of magic particles over the city, and guess who paid to have the first tower built? Duke Leon Stonewall, from his personal treasury, no less.

“I also heard about a conflict that young Nokto had with Embressa, a cousin of the Stonewalls. Reportedly Nokto behaved inappropriately to her, but a bit of digging revealed that she’d wanted to get into bed with him for a while, and he spurned her advances. He became an enemy of the Stonewalls."

“Do you want to know what I think happened? Either Nokto was working with you and the Stonewalls on something and you decided to tie up a loose end, or he learned something he shouldn’t have about your activities, and he was killed.”

“That’s preposterous! I would never harm Nokto! He’s been with me for two years!” the professor shouted, voice cracking like a whip. His expression was caught somewhere between fury and mortal terror.

Sleipnir turned and addressed Dorgath. “I suggest that we relieve him of his staff and place him in a holding cell. If it turns out that he’s telling the truth, he’ll be released. But if not…” He trailed off, the silence having more weight than any spoken word.

“Sapphire, relinquish your staff and follow Sleipnir to the cells.” His eyes narrowed. “Do it for your own sake.”

Tears welled in the corners of Sapphire’s eyes. He suppressed a sob before turning the staff sideways and holding it out to Sleipnir, who wrapped it in a massive paw. The Corgi couldn’t even bear to gaze at the two larger dogs. With agonizing slowness Sapphire stood up and followed the captain out from the room, but not before Sleipnir turned to Dorgath.

“Do you wish to follow, your Highness?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Send for a servant to bring me some wine. Anything will do. It’s been a long day.” Dorgath gave a weary sigh.

Soon he was alone in the room, only the warm air as a companion. Had he been mistaken in assuming that Sapphire was somehow working with Stonewall? Even if Dorgath was wrong, it could destroy the professor’s standing among his peers. Academia and politics intermingled and could hardly be separated. Minor members of noble houses usually had three options in life: the military, the clergy, and the college. The Imperial College had significant sway in the court, and the more support one could obtain from academics, the more power they could wield. The college wasn’t just a place of learning, but a weapon that possessed enough influence to win wars and steer the fate of empires. A phrase commonly tossed around is ‘Emperor, Imperial College, and Noble Houses.’ The three greatest forces in the empire, by order of power. The college owned swaths of land big enough to form a country, and even had their own fortresses and a military force. One fortress was located on the very tip of an island hanging off the east coast; Fort Hatten, they called it, and the college rented it to the royal family.

A sudden chill sent a shiver of wariness dance down Dorgath’s spine, like all the happiness had been drained from the air. Without turning he spoke.

“Hello, Chrysalis. I take it that you found something?”

The changeling gave an open-mouthed smile, showing off her fangs. “I did indeed, Dorgath. And I think you’ll find it very interesting.”