Chapter 800 - Goblin Master Crafter Wulm Ⅱ (2/2)
”There are no objections, there,” Grok Gringotts pensively said, before meeting the eyes of Wulm. ”And you vow on your title as Master Crafter, Wulm, that the artifact forged is not a weapon nor true goblin silver?”
”I swear so or lest by rank be stripped,” Wulm solemnly vowed.
”Good that sets aside some of my fears,” Grok said with a relieved sigh. ”There have been more than a few inquiries that I am comfortable with. And while Ragnok and Dulag have maintained their silence on the subject according to the binding contract, the original contract can always be physically compromised and found within our records. As a result, I am personally housing the contract within my own personal files to maintain the contract secrecy.”
Wulm purses her lips in a deep frown. ”That is not done, my King, and yet, who would have the audacity to break the contracts that we (goblins) hold sacred?”
Grok sends Wulm an ȧssessing gaze, before saying, ”It has come to my attention that Bodrig and his Brotherhood have been moving in concerning mannerisms. There are even indications that Bodrig is seeking unsavory allies among those termed as Death Eaters.”
”We have always remained neutral from the political intricacies of wizards and witches!” Wulm loudly exclaimed in shock. ”Otherwise, it is courting madness!”
”I thought much the same,” Grok admitted. ”I believed the nonsensical rumors as mere falsehood. Bodrig and his Brotherhood for all our disagreements and differences, we both strive to move to uplift and protect our people.”
”Then what has changed?” Wulm asked before narrowing her eyes to a slit. ”Or is it, because you have received evidence proving otherwise that troubles you so?”
There is a heaviness in the air as Grok leans back into his seat and closes his eyes to reply. ”On the night of the Ministry of Magic's attack upon the former residence of the Potentate of London, Sanderson sent me a letter. A letter which detailed a time and date, where Bodrig had met with former Mulciber Head of House, and that of Livius Rowle. There was a rather detailed account of the event and the conversation that had transpired.”
Grok sighs and opens his eyes looking for more tired and older. ”The former Potentate of London, Sanderson is someone whom I dislike on a general basis of principles, but he does not lie, which is a rather inconvenient trait to have at times,” he quietly said turning to stare for a moment at the portrait of Ragnuk, the first Goblin King, before turning away.
Wulm's mind races before her face grows still with worry and caution. ”There is more?” She finally dared to ask the Goblin King.
”There is some rather troubling circumstantial evidence suggesting that Bodrig and his Brotherhood will ensure that an attack occurs at the Gringotts Bank itself,” Grok finally said, before rubbing his face with his long, thin fingers. ”And that I will perish in the attack and the throne will pass to one of my greedier and treacherous children.”
Wulm's dark, slanted eyes grow dark and cold. Her pointed nose wrinkles up as her lips twist into a vicious snarl. ”We are goblins, my King. We were created from the cold, dark depths of the mother earth and forged in fire before the breath of life came into us. And so, my King, if what you say is indeed true, then show them the might of our people. It would seem that there are those among us, who have forgotten their place and the ferocity of our nature.”
”I thought as much,” Grok replied as he removed his hand from covering his eyes. ”However, I wish to crush all further dissent and for that proof is required Councilor.”
Wulm presses her lips into a thin line and bows her head in acceptance of the Goblin King's decision. ”If I may, sire, in the meantime might I suggest that a successor finally be named,” she gestured with her hand. ”It will force them to move that much faster and thereby leave for a trial to be traced, and for mistakes to be made.”
”I did consider such an action, Councilor,” Grok truthfully admitted with a deep frown on his face. ”However, my selected and preferred heir is not one of my living children, but rather one of my grandchildren. The grandchild in question is most suitable for the position and has surpassed and fulfilled every single of my expectations.”
”It will be a controversial announcement, my king,” Wulm pensively replied. ”However, it will be accepted if it through the paternal lineage.” She paused and solemnly studied the Goblin King before her. ”Unless it is through the maternal lineage,” her voice pointedly trailed off.
”I would have made my daughter, the Queen of our people,” Grok replied with a frigid expression. His hand curls into an angry fist, ”but all of my precious councilors were against my decision and said there was no precedent for a Goblin Queen. In my foolishness, I listened, and now my daughter lays dead and buried in a cold grave. I shall not make the same mistake, a second time. My daughter's son will reign in her place for he has wholly earned the position through his own efforts and the same cannot be said for my surviving children.
Wulm lets out a soft sigh and bows her head in acceptance of the King's decree. She had been among those who had against the Goblin King's decision to appoint his daughter as heir. Perchance, it would have been the cause for turmoil for a time, but the King's daughter would have been an excellent Queen. It was too late to lament the what-ifs for the King's daughter had perished in the labor of her second child. Neither the King's daughter nor the child had survived. All that was left of the King's daughter was her firstborn, her son, Ragnok.