Margaret Weis - Dragons of The Dwarven Depths

Rance was a large dwarf of no particular intelligence who had become Thane because his gang of thugs was currently the gang in power. He didn’t care much who was High King, so long as he received a cut of the profits. Accordingly, he built the secret tunnels that led to Pax Tharkas. Unknown to Hornfel, Realgar and Rance were the first to open the gates of Thorbardin, and the first person to enter was the Dragon Highlord Verminaard.

The deal was finalized. In return for sending in an army of draconians to help defeat the Hylar, the Theiwar and Daergar agreed to sell iron ore to Pax Tharkas, along with swords and maces, battle hammers and axes, steel arrow-and spear-heads. All this came at a fortunate time for Lord Verminaard, though he did not live to realize it.

As it was, Dray-yan was able to keep the iron ore flowing, and provided the Dragonarmies with excellent weapons.

The draconian army had already entered the secret tunnel. Realgar had been about ready to launch his attack when the opening of Northgate and the arrival of outsiders derailed his plot. He had tried to kill the Talls himself, hoping to get rid of them before anyone else found out. Draconian engineers had repaired and rebuilt the murder holes above Anvil’s Echo. Their work was supposed to be secret, for the draconian commander intended to use the murder holes in case the Hylar army invaded.

Realgar had no time for secrets. He sent his Theiwar up there with orders to roll the boulders down on the bridge.

This turned out to be not nearly as easy as Realgar had imagined. The Theiwar are not physically strong, and they had difficulty wrestling the boulders into position. They could not see their targets—the magical light of the wizard’s staff blinded them whenever they peered over the edge of the murder holes—and they let the boulders fall rather than trying to aim them. The Talls escaped, and Realgar found himself in trouble with the draconian commander, a detestable lizard named Grag, who railed at him that he had given away one of their best strategic advantages.

“You may have cost us the war,” Grag said to him coldly. “Why did you not summon me and my men? We would have dealt swiftly with this scum. In fact, you would have been rewarded. These criminals were the instigators in the revolt of the human slaves. There is a bounty on their heads. Because of your bungling, they are now deep in the heart of Thorbardin, beyond our reach. Who knows what mischief they will cause?”

Realgar cursed himself for not having summoned the draconians to help him kill the Talls. He had not known that there was money to be made out of these Talls or he most certainly would have.

“These slaves are coming to Thorbardin,” Grag had gone on, fuming “They plan to seek a way inside. There are eight hundred humans out there, practically on your doorstep!”

“Not eight hundred warriors?” Realgar asked in alarm.

“No. About half are children and old people, but the men and some of the women are stout fighters, and they have a god or two on their side. Weak gods, of course, but they have proven a nuisance to us in the past.”

“I hope you are not saying you are afraid of a few hundred human slaves and their puny gods?” Realgar asked with a sneer.

“I can deal with them,” Grag returned grimly, “but it will mean dividing my forces, fighting a battle on two fronts with the possibility of being flanked on both.”

“They have not yet entered the mountain,” Realgar said. “They would need the permission of the Council to do so, and that will not be easily granted. I have heard it said that they have brought with them a cursed artifact known as the Helm of Grallen. Not even Hornfel is so soft or so stupid as to permit eight hundred humans to come traipsing inside Thorbardin, especially when they’re cursed! Do not worry, Grag. I will be in attendance at the Council meeting. I will do what must be done to insure that our plans go forward.”

Realgar had sent out his informants to spread the word that the strangers brought with them the cursed helm of a dead prince. Everyone knew the dark tale, though speaking about it in public had been outlawed by the Hylar for three centuries. Having done what he could to turn the people against these strangers, Realgar went to the meeting of the Council.

The Theiwar wizard did not wear robes. Realgar was a renegade, as were most dwarven wizards. He knew nothing of the Orders of High Sorcery. He did not even know that his magic came to him as a gift of the dark god, Nuitari, who had taken a liking to these dwarven savants. Realgar had no spellbook, for he could neither read nor write. He cast the spells his master had cast before him, having learned them from his master before him, and so on back through time. Realgar wore armor to the Council meeting, and his was excellent armor, for the Theiwar had a gift for crafting steel. His helm was made of leather specially fitted with smoked glass over the eyeslits to protect his light-sensitive eyes. The mask had the additional advantage of preventing anyone from seeing his face, which resembled that of a weasel, for he had a long narrow nose, small squinty eyes, and a weak chin covered with a scraggly beard.

Realgar had not even entered the Court of Thanes before Rance accosted him.

“What do you know about these Talls?” Rance demanded.

“Not so loud!” Realgar hissed, and he drew Rance off to one side.

“I hear that these Talls entered the Northgate and came through your realm! They have with them the accursed helm. There is a wizard among them and a Neidar! Why did you let them in the gate? Why did you allow them to get this far? What will this do to our plans?”

“If you’ll shut up for a moment, I’ll tell you,” said Realgar. “I didn’t ‘let’ them in. They destroyed the gate, which already marks them as criminals. As for the helm, it may be a curse for the Hylar and a blessing for us. Keep your mouth shut, and follow my lead.”

Rance did not like this, for he did not trust his Theiwar brother in the slightest. Had they been alone, he would have hounded Realgar until he had answers, but Hornfel had arrived and he was casting suspicious glances in their direction. They could not be seen to be too cozy. Muttering beneath his breath, Rance stomped into the Court and went to take his seat on the Throne of the Daergar. Realgar went to take his place on his throne.

The Council of Thanes was about to convene.

The Court of Thanes was an imposing structure located on an outer wall of the Life Tree. Hylar soldiers in full regalia marched the companions through double doors of bronze and into a long, imposing hallway lined with columns. At the end of the hall was a curved dais on which stood nine thrones. The thrones were carved of striated marble, each a different color, ranging from white to gray, reddish brown to green. The throne belonging to the Dead was carved of black obsidian. The ninth throne, standing in the center, was larger than the rest, and it was carved of pure white marble and adorned with gold and silver.

The soldiers formed two rows along the line of columns. Arman Kharas brought the companions forward to stand beneath a rotunda in front of the thrones. So placed, a person addressing the Council would address the High King, whose throne stood in front, with the other Thanes looking on from either side. Since there was no High King, the speaker was relegated to the middle of the hall in order to face all the Thanes at once or he had to constantly turn this way and that to talk to all the Thanes, thus putting the speaker at a considerable disadvantage. Flint walked in front of his comrades. He carried the Helm of Grallen in his hands. There had been a brief altercation between him and Arman outside the Court as to which of them should carry the Helm. Truthfully, Flint didn’t want anything to do with the cursed thing and he would have been glad to relinquish it, but his pride had been hurt and he wasn’t about to let the Hylar have it. Then, too, the promise of Reorx was always at the back of Flint’s mind. Arman Kharas did not want the helm either. He had asked to carry it because he felt honor bound to do so and he graciously did not press the issue, stating that he feared an altercation might lead to bloodshed.