Tom Liberman - The Hammer of Fire

On this bright and sunny day, Dol and Brogus climbed out of the ramshackle hut a quarter mile outside of town that had served as their domicile since they arrived at the city almost two weeks before. “It’s impossible,” said Brogus as he looked around with bleary, morning eyes despite the fact that it was already noon. To their north lay the city where a thousand workers scrambled over the old walls tearing them down stone by stone as they expanded the outer perimeter. “We’ve been here two weeks and we can’t even get near the palace. There are ten thousand soldiers in tents and twice that many petitioners trying to get to see Corancil. This was a mistake from the beginning. We’ll never get to see anyone in power.”

“What do you propose,” said Dol as he also rubbed his eyes and took in the hustle and bustle of the city. It wasn’t as big as he originally expected although clearly the new ruler had plans for massive expansion. On their first day in the city they wandered around and found the proposed Grand Plaza at the center of the city. For now it was merely a dug up patch of earth and dirt that was once a great slum a mile in diameter. The old buildings and poor people now took up residence either outside the city walls or in some of the new housing districts still under construction. According to rumor, Corancil planned some sort of permanent art exhibition in the dug up territory and that, in addition to the expansion of the city walls, the building of grand new structures, and the influx of countless soldiers made the place hum with excitement. “We’re here now. I will return to Craggen Steep with my head low.”

A young boy, of perhaps seven or eight, wearing a ragged overcoat that dragged the ground around his ankles stopped and looked up at the two for the briefest of instants as he heard the name of the hidden citadel and then dashed off dodging a pair of tall warriors as they emerged from around a corner.

“No, no,” said Brogus shaking his head. “You’re right about that. We can’t go back to Craggen Steep like this, but there is no way we can get an audience with Corancil. The best we can hope for here is to be recruited as common soldiers. That’s the plan as far as I can tell. What do you want to do?”

Dol shook his head at that suggestion but did not reply.

“The girls will figure out something,” said Brogus as he turned and looked towards the hundreds of other little half-built wood shacks that lined the muddy thoroughfares that made up the city outside the city. “This place stinks, I haven’t bathed in weeks, I stink.”

Dol scratched his head through heavily matted hair and nodded, “We need to find our own way south.” He looked to the icy bay where hundreds of ships docked and unloaded goods from the southern lands to feed the throngs in the city. “We should find a ship heading south, join up with them.”

Brogus turned back from their little shack, kept moderately tidy but still a hovel at best, and looked towards the clear blue water of the bay. “I’ve never been aboard a ship. I’ve heard the motion will make you sick.”

“At least we’ll have clean water,” said Dol as he watched a neighbor dispose of a chamber pot by throwing it into the street. “My sense of smell is gone but my eyes water from the filth of this place. I will not stay a day more. I’m going down to the docks to find a ship.”

Brogus watched his friend gather up his equipment, including the great hammer which he wore around a loop on his belt so that the head swung free. They’d tried to cover it up early in their trip for fear dwarf pursuers might see the distinctive weapon, but a couple of incidents where Dol caught himself on fire eventually persuaded them to use the current arrangement. The hammer seemed to be growing more lively each day Dol handled the thing.

“I’ll wait for the girls,” said Brogus with a half-hearted yell and waved at his friend. He felt low. They arrived in the city with such high hopes but their inability to make any headway in their efforts to see the new conqueror, the oppressive environment of the tent city, and the general sense of their impending failure seemed to sap all his strength. He slumped to a seat on a tree stump near the little shack and began to pick up little sticks from the ground, break them, and toss them away. That’s how Milli and Petra found him two hours later when they returned to the hut.

“Brogus, how long have you been sitting there and where is Dol?” asked Milli as she stood over the dwarf with a frown on her face. She had tied her hair back in a bun so tight that it stretched her face, she wore a thick coat covered with grime, and she appeared wan with little color in her face.

Brogus simply sat there without answering as he looked at the twig in his hand.

“Brogus,” she repeated and smacked the dwarf on the shoulder. “Where’s Dol?

Brogus looked up with a glassy eyed gaze and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure.”

Milli looked at Petra, “This place is killing us. The cold, the inactivity, the filth. We’ll never get to see Corancil. We need to leave.”

“That’s what Dol said,” said Brogus although his tongue felt like a thick layer of fur rested on it and the words seemed to ooze like tree sap.

Milli shook her head and turned to the old woman, “That’s it. We’re leaving tomorrow morning. We’ll head south on our own. How far did you say the southern volcanoes are from here?”

“I’ve never been anywhere near that far south,” said Petra with a shrug although her own complexion was pallid and her voice barely carried beyond her two friends. “I know there are some great lakes in the center of the continent and those are said to be ten thousand miles from here.”

“If that’s the center of the world then how much further is the southern tip?”

The old woman shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “A lot further than that gold you gave me will take you.”

“We gave you enough gold to last five years,” said Milli with a fierce look at the old woman. “You can pretend it was an expensive lesson but you’ll get nothing more from us. You can leave anytime you want.”

Petra smiled and patted Milli on the back, although the Halfling girl turned and stepped away from the contact. “No, no. I’ll stick with you for a while longer. This is proving to be a most interesting trip and I’ve seen those little pouches of gold coins and gemstones you carry. I could do far worse for travelling companions.”

“Don’t mention the gold,” said Milli in a hushed voice. “If these cutthroats knew the value of our purses then our lives wouldn’t be worth the price we paid for this shack. We need to go find your wagon up in the hills and get out of here.”

“What about the mules? Do you want to bring them along as well,” said Petra with a wicked grin as she asked the question in a toneless voice that belied her amusement.

Milli spun around and started to spit out something but managed to stifle her anger and just glared at Petra. After a moment Milli turned back to Brogus, “What did Dol say?”

“He said we need to get out of here. He was going to hire a ship,” said Brogus with a nod of his head towards the crystal blue water in the bay.

Milli looked over to the water and the many ships that bobbed placidly on its surface. A few days after they arrived, a winter storm blew through the capital and half a dozen of the small ships crashed on the rocks killing many people. “I don’t know about ships. I don’t know how to swim and neither do any of you. That water is cold,” she finished with a shiver and remembered her one attempt at a bath in a secluded little arm of the bay.

“A ship would be a faster way to get to the southern realms,” said Petra. “Although we’d have to leave the mules behind.”