Markus Heitz - The Fate of the Dwarves

“How much magic power were you able to absorb?” Tungdil wanted to know.

“Enough for now.” Coira sat up straight in her chair. “I’d need more if I were to campaign against Lot-Ionan. That will be what you were asking, Tungdil Goldhand.”

“To be frank, I doubt you would be powerful enough to do anything to stop him.”

Ireheart listened as his friend deliberately provoked the young maga. Any minute now he’ll be needing his armor! But to his surprise she responded with a friendly smile.

“I know what you think of me: A young woman, hardly out of training, and one who’s managed to bungle things so badly as to kill her own mother. But I assure you that I am spurred on by these drawbacks. Perhaps a warrior heart will be bestowed on me yet.” She paused. “I shall accompany you to the Red Mountains.”

“Your Majesty!” objected Rodario. “To wage war on the Dragon is…”

“… is an excellent decision,” interjected Tungdil. “I know why you wish to come with us: I’ve heard the rumors that there may be a further magic source in the firstlings’ realm.”

The same idea had just occurred to Ireheart. Goda had occasionally mentioned that merchants traveling from the west to trade with the fourthlings had spoken of mysterious lights in the Red Mountains. She had deduced the lights might have a connection with magic. However, it had been no more than rumors and vague speculation.

“Exactly. I will come with you and will collect as much magic power as I can; then I can help you against the magus.”

Rodario raised his hand. “Permit me to speak. What assurance do we have that Lot-Ionan hasn’t sent more of these creatures up into the mountains or over to where the alfar are?”

“There’s no guarantee. But Lohasbrand can deal with them as easy as pie. I don’t suppose the alfar would be able to do the same, unless they’ve got Aiphaton at their side,” Tungdil replied.

Mallenia had kept quiet throughout this exchange, limiting herself to furious glances at Hargorin Deathbringer. But she had held her tongue for the sake of peace. Ireheart could tell she was finding it difficult. In her opinion the Deathbringer had committed too many crimes in the name of the alfar. Ireheart had to admit she had a point. “I don’t like the pact we’ve entered into with the black-eyes. They’ve oppressed my people for so many cycles now and suddenly it’s all sweetness and light with Aiphaton and he’s planning to lead the alfar to their deaths and to destroy their empires?” Her mouth narrowed to a very thin line. “I don’t believe it.”

“Who says the thirdlings are going to join us?” Rodario asked them to consider. “Right, one of their number has become high king-but don’t they still despise the other dwarf-tribes?” He glanced at Hargorin and Barskalin. “How can you remove my doubts for me?”

“Your doubts?” asked Hargorin in astonishment. “You’re an actor. You’re only sitting at this same table because you invited yourself. You have no part in decisions concerning the future existence of Girdlegard. You can’t even fight. But I suppose we can take you along as a mascot.” Barskalin laughed in agreement.

Now a smile, dangerous enough to rival Tungdil’s best, crept onto the actor’s visage. “Try to strike me and you’ll have to take back those words.”

Coira leaned over to speak to Mallenia. “If I’m not mistaken, his face is looking much thinner.”

The Ido girl agreed. “And the lake has torn off a few beard hairs, I see.” Looking more closely she noted a distinct dark shadow round his chin, throat and cheeks. “But they’ll be growing back with a vengeance, stronger than ever, I expect.” The two girls exchanged glances, each reading the other’s suspicions.

In the meantime Hargorin had got up from his seat and had planted himself in front of Rodario. “You don’t know what you’ve taken on.”

“Yes, I do,” he said confidently. “But it is not nice to fight in the presence of ladies. It would not be fitting to smear the place with your blood and guts while they are watching. And at the moment we have a more pressing task.”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Tungdil called impatiently.

“But I’m not being taken seriously merely because I appear on the stage. I can’t accept that. My question was not stupid: I was wondering about the loyalty of the thirdlings,” Rodario returned. “What if they decide to help the alfar? They’ve served them for over two hundred cycles. If there’s a shift in the balance of power they’ll suffer great losses-never mind that, they’ll be exposed to the rage of the humans in Urgon, Idoslane, and Gauragar. They’d be definitely better off if there’s no change at the top.”

“It’s worth considering,” Mallenia agreed. In gratitude Rodario sent her a long, warm look.

Rodario placed his hands on the table. “Can you understand why I’m hesitating here? What if the dwarf-haters were to attack the fourthlings and fifthlings while they’re marching south? We’d never manage a campaign against Lot-Ionan after that.”

“We follow Tungdil Goldhand,” smoldered Hargorin.

“We-do you mean all the thirdlings or a substantial majority?” Rodario tried to pin him down to specifics. “It would be interesting to learn what the minority might get up to? And what about the freelings? Where are they?”

Barskalin broke in: “They’ve dug themselves in in the last of their cities and are fighting off the thirdlings…”

“Aha!” said Rodario. “There you are, you see! The thirdlings are still attacking the other tribes.” He folded his arms belligerently. “I don’t see, with all due respect, any change in their attitude.”

“That will be because I haven’t issued any commands to them to stop what they are doing.” All heads swiveled round to Tungdil. “If the thirdlings suddenly changed their tune the alfar would smell a rat. Then Aiphaton’s plan would be jeopardized and the northern alfar would be suspicious, too. That’s why I haven’t told them to stop their attacks. I can’t do that before Aiphaton has set out with his army. The freelings will just have to bide their time and hold them off.”

Nobody dared to respond.

Finally, Ireheart cleared his throat. “So, tomorrow we’ll set off to Lohasbrand’s hideout. We’ll pinch his best bits of treasure and then hie ourselves off to the magus. As soon as we hear from the emperor of the black-eyes, we’ll send off some riders to order the thirdlings and the other dwarf-tribes to get to the south to capture a weakened Lot-Ionan.” He looked at the queen. “With your help.”

“Neatly summed up,” commented Rodario. “I’m with you.”

“Me too,” said Mallenia. “Idoslane will do its bit to free Girdlegard just as it did under my ancestor. We can’t provide an army, but I can fight for you. The rest of my resistance fighters will deal with any alfar still at large. I’ll write to them straightaway. They will watch for a suitable opportunity.”

“Good.” Tungdil seemed satisfied.

Rodario put up his hand again. “How would it be if we were to announce to the people , and not just to the resistance, that Girdlegard is about to be liberated? If we have supporters who have sniffed the wind of freedom and want to rise up against the Lohasbrander and the last vassals of the alfar, they’ll be unstoppable.”

“Girdlegard’s too big for that,” Tungdil contradicted him.

“Somebody shove something in that actor’s mouth. Preferably something sharp,” murmured Hargorin.

Rodario pointed to his throat. “If I had an ugly beard like yours I’d be more careful who I insulted.”

Ireheart grimaced. Dwarves normally enjoyed a joke, even quite earthy ones, but you could not ridicule a dwarf’s beard with impunity. Mockery and fire were the worst enemies of a beard. “Stop that now if you want to get out of here with your life and fine features intact,” he called to him quietly. “Apologize to him…”