Dan Parkinson - The Swordsheath Scroll

It looked, the drums said, as though the humans were building a new fortress within the city.

Derkin Hammerhand admitted to those close to him that he was puzzled. What the humans were doing in Klanath was their own business, but he was surprised that there had been no further attempts to clear Tharkas Pass. He had been sure that Lord Kane would launch at least one attack in full force. It was not like the man to simply accept an ultimatum such as the dwarves had sent. Kane was not a passive person, nor one to accept a loss. He considered the lands south of the pass as his own. Would he lose them without a fight?

The Chosen Ones were becoming restless, too, and that added to Derkin's worries. With the wall in place, and no plans for permanent delves at the pass, they had little to do. Quarrels, brawls, and fistfights had become common in recent days, and Derkin knew it was the result of sheer boredom. Without work to do, his people turned to fighting, and there was no one here to fight except themselves.

He longed to leave the wall, to somehow know that Tharkas Pass was safe from invasion so that he could take his people back into the mountains. There, they could join their ten thousand peers in the work of hunting and herding, of planting and harvesting, of building and delving and living their lives.

The wall, like the little metal stake on which it was built, was really nothing more than a symbol. It was a signal to those beyond that the lands south of it were not theirs for the taking. It had needed to be built, and they had built it. It had been a certainty that the humans would test it, and the dwarves welcomed the test.

But Derkin had not intended to spend months or years here in Tharkas Pass. There were other places to be, and other things to do. Just as a great nation of dwarves had been carved out of the mountain wilderness so many centuries ago, now that nation must be renewed, and securing Tharkas Pass was only the first step.

In his dreams, Derkin saw a time when the Neidar of Kal-Thax could live securely, where and how they chose, knowing that they had champions to come to their aid if they were threatened. The Chosen Ones would be those champions. They would be the army of Kal-Thax. They would serve the dwarven nation as the Holgar-the people of Thorbardin-had once promised to.

He had little hope that Thorbardin would ever reverse itself, ever again become the vital, central fortress of Kal-Thax. Not enough of the people now living in the subterranean fortress had the spirit their ancestors had once had. There were a few Dunbarth Ironthumbs and people like the Daewar leader Jeron Redleather and his son Luster, but only a few, it seemed.

If Kal-Thax was to be restored as a realm, it would be up to the Chosen Ones to do it.

But this silence was unnerving. Not only had Lord Kane not come with his armies to test the walled border in force… he hadn't done anything at all.

Each evening's breezes, coming through the great pass, were cooler than those the evening before. Each morning now, there was frost. Winter came quickly in these mountains, and it would come soon. Derkin Hammerhand chafed at the silence, and at the waiting.

And then, four weeks to the day after the defense of the wall, the drums told of people coming. A small party, riding toward the border.

When they came into sight, Derkin went to the battlements. The people coming were human soldiers, wearing the colors of the empire and carrying the banners of Klanath. But there were only a dozen of them. As they neared, Derkin recognized the one in the lead. It was the officer he had given his message to, the one named Tulien Gart. With sudden decision, Derkin hurried down the ramp, opened the gate, and went out to meet him. The Ten, as always, went with him, but he ordered everyone else to stay.

Tulien Gart saw the dwarves come out from the gate and halted his escort. Then, holding a hand up, palm out, he rode forward alone. Six paces from the group of dwarves, he drew rein. "I am Tulien Gart," he said. "I have words for Hammerhand."

The dwarf in the lead stepped forward a single pace. Gart recognized the polished helm and the scarlet cape, and now he could see the face that went with them-a wide, stern dwarven face with dark, backswept beard and eyes that seemed to look right through him.

"I know you, Tulien Gart," the dwarf said, in the deep voice the man remembered. "I am Hammerhand.".

"I carried your words to my prince, Lord Kane," Gart said. "He has sent me with his response. Lord Kane directs me to say that he does not recognize your claim to the lands bestowed upon him by His Imperial Majesty, but neither does he wish to expend his forces and his energies in needless combat. He therefore suggests a truce."

"A truce?" Hammerhand scowled, and Gart noticed that the Ten behind him raised their shields slightly, as though preparing to draw their weapons. But Hammerhand eased them with a gesture. "What sort of truce does Lord Kane suggest?"

"Lord Kane asks your word of honor that you and all your people will remain south of your… ah… border, and make no move against Klanath, until such time as Lord Kane and Hammerhand can negotiate their respective claims and possibly arrive at a peaceful solution."

"I will gladly speak with Lord Kane," Hammerhand said. "The ownership of Kal-Thax is not open to negotiation, but there may be agreements by which Lord Kane can be compensated-through trade, for instance, or an alliance."

"May I tell Lord Kane that he has your word of honor that you and your people will not come beyond your border, pending negotiations?"

"What does Lord Kane offer in return for such a pledge?"

"He makes the same promise," Gart said. "His Highness offers you his pledge, upon his honor, that no force will be brought against you, pending negotiations."

"And when will such negotiations take place?"

"Unfortunately," Gart replied with a shrug, "not until spring. Lord Kane has received orders from His Imperial Majesty that will keep him occupied through the winter."

"Orders to build a new fortress in Klanath?"

Gart blinked, then smiled slightly. "Ah, you know about that, do you? Yes, that is part of his task. I can tell you no more."

"If s none of our concern," Hammerhand noted.

"But for you to know of it, you must have spies watching the city. And to see the city, they must be north of here. Lord Kane's request is that your people no longer come north of the border… which you yourself have designated."

"I will stand by my pledge," Hammerhand said, "as long as he stands by his." Hammerhand waved the Ten back and strode toward the mounted man. When he was only a few feet from him, he looked up into his face, studying him carefully. "Can I trust your Lord Kane in this, Commander Gart? Do you trust him?"

Gart hesitated. He felt as though the dwarf were seeing right into his head. For an instant, he suspected magic. But he had never heard of a dwarf using magic.

"I'll ask my question another way, Commander," Hammerhand said. "Do you believe that Lord Kane means to stand by his pledge to me?"

"Yes," the man answered. "I believe he does. He said he would."

Hammerhand nodded. "Thank you," he said. "I think you do not truly trust the man you work for. But I believe that you expect him to keep his pledge, for whatever reason. It is enough. Tell Lord Kane that he has the pledge of Hammerhand, and that I have his. We will negotiate in the spring. Oh, and I will withdraw my observers from the peaks. It really is none of our concern what you people do over there, as long as you don't bother us."

The dwarf turned and walked away, not looking back. For a moment, Tulien Gart watched him, wondering what sort of mind could seem so perceptive, yet so readily trust one who hated him, as he must know Lord Kane di" d. Would Hammerhand really pull his spies back, away from Klanath? If I were him, Gart wondered, would I?