Markus Heitz - The Dwarves

"At least we found the entrance to the tunnel," Balyndis said brightly, trying to lift the mood.

Boпndil ran his finger experimentally along his blades. "I suppose that's something. The question is, will we reach our destination, or end up being ambushed and eaten by a war band of orcs?" A menacing smile crept over his face. "Don't worry, my axes will take care of them. I'm longing to slit their runty throats." As always on such occasions, he glanced sharply at Djerun to remind him not to interfere.

Tungdil turned to Narmora, who seemed calmer now that they were leaving. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled. "Better. It was hard for me in the forest, surrounded by so much elvishness. I've got my mother to blame for that."

He cleared his throat. "Are you nervous?"

"About the showdown with Nфd'onn?" She squeezed Furgas's hand. "No, not really-although once the magus is standing in front of me it will be a different story. Still, I've rehearsed what to do, so it should be all right."

"Of course it will be all right!" roared Boпndil. "We'll pop up behind the army and plow through the ranks. Before the runts know what's hit them, you'll whip out Keenfire and strike the magus in the back. He'll die, and Girdlegard will be saved!"

Narmora smiled. "A fine plan, but I'd like to try something a little more daring. How about I pretend to be an дlf? I can play the part to perfection. I'll be able to get past Nфd'onn's guards and apprentices without arousing suspicion."

"I don't mean to be rude," Andфkai said doubtfully, "but why would Nфd'onn be interested in an ordinary дlf? You'll never get close enough."

Narmora rearranged her head scarf. "I'll think of something."

Of course! Tungdil broke into a grin. He had just remembered a story from one of Lot-Ionan's books. The heroes had used a simple but effective trick that could work for them as well. "He'll be interested, all right, when you deliver the hostages that he's been waiting for."

"What kind of hostages?" asked Boпndil. Then it dawned on him. "What? You want us to give ourselves up?" he protested. "No, we'll fight our way through like I said!"

"My dear fellow," Rodario interrupted sweetly, "I don't wish to reawaken painful memories, but remember what happened in the fifthling kingdom? Your axes made little impression on the hordes of baying beasts."

"Precisely my point." Tungdil nodded. "We'll be outnumbered. That's why Rodario, Furgas, and Andфkai will pretend to be mercenaries who helped Narmora to capture us. Djerun will have to stay here; his presence would give us away."

"It's a risky strategy, but it might just work," Andфkai said earnestly. "I'm in favor."

Rodario tapped his lip pensively. "Haven't I read something like that before?"

"Do you mean The Death of Herengard? In the story the heroes need to kill the evil monarch. They use the same tactic and it works," explained Tungdil, owning up to his source.

"You mean you borrowed it from a book?" Boпndil protested, aghast. "But you can't-"

"Remember what I told you when we met? Reading is important!" Tungdil clapped the warrior on the back. "Maybe you'll believe me now. Let's have a show of hands."

The motion was passed with only one objection. Offended at not being listened to, Boпndil sulked in silence, not even cheering and whooping when the wagon plunged downhill.

Tungdil chose not to mention the end of the story: King Herengard's valiant killers had been slain by his guards. It was a good strategy nonetheless.

Once again their journey took them deep below the surface of Girdlegard. They were headed for the Blacksaddle, where Nфd'onn was mustering his army of orcs and other vile beasts.

Little did they know that the tunnel was preparing to surprise them again.

On rounding a corner, they saw upturned wagons and mounds of orcish corpses piled on both sides of the rail. There must have been at least two hundred bodies in all. They couldn't stop because of the momentum, so they leaned out of the wagon to get a better look.

"By my beard, this is the work of axes if ever I saw it," growled Boпndil. "You can bet they were slaughtered by dwarves. Our kinsfolk must be doing better than we thought."

"It seems funny to be fighting in the tunnels when there's a perfectly good stronghold in the Blacksaddle. Why haven't they ensconced themselves there?" Tungdil dangled over the side to inspect the corpses, which were stacked neatly away from the rail. Someone wanted to make sure that nothing and no one got in our way. He was instantly reminded of the spirits whom they had encountered twice before. "The ghosts! They helped us in the fifthling kingdom, remember?"

Balyndis pointed to a niche in the tunnel, where a small figure lay contorted on the floor. An orcish spear protruded from its side. "That's not a ghost!" she said. "Ghosts don't have corpses."

"I wonder if there's such a thing as tunnel-dwelling dwarves," speculated Furgas. "It struck me a while ago that the rail looked nice and shiny. Someone's been using it regularly, I'd say."

Tunnel-dwelling dwarves? The network had been abandoned for such a long time that a band of dwarves could easily have settled in the tunnels. Tungdil could only guess at an explanation. They must have been banished by the ancient folks.

He was gripped by excitement. It was entirely plausible that outcasts from the various clans and folks had learned of the tunnels and founded their own community many cycles ago. Perhaps they didn't want to go back to their kingdoms?

"Quick, lend me your quill, Rodario!" he said, grabbing the ink and parchment and scribbling a hurried thank-you letter. His handwriting was almost illegible because of the juddering wagon. They sped past a stalagmite, and he pinned the note on top.

"Can spirits read?" inquired Andфkai.

"They're not spirits," he answered. "If my suspicions are correct, they're dwarves-outcasts from the five kingdoms who claimed the tunnels for themselves. We've been trespassing on their territory." He gave a quick explanation. "Remember how they kept warning us? The hammering, the collapse of the tunnel, the faces in the cavern. They were trying to make us leave."

"Fascinating, fascinating," said Rodario. "And when the orcs turned up, they decided to help their kinsfolk instead of scaring them away. Blood is thicker than water, I suppose." Rodario snatched back his quill. "I'll add it to my notes."

"We've seen so many new things-good as well as bad," murmured Balyndis. "I hope the good outweighs the bad when it's over."

"It will," Tungdil said confidently. As they rattled around the next corner, he took a last look at the stalagmite. Unless he was much mistaken, a small figure was clutching his note.

Their arrival in the former realm of Lios Nudin gave Andфkai an opportunity to replenish her powers. She closed her eyes and waited. Almost immediately the walls of the tunnel began to glow, revealing the veins and pockmarks in the rock. Andфkai's breathing quickened; the light became brighter and intensified to a dazzling glare, then faded abruptly.

Slowly the maga opened her eyes, turned to the right, and vomited over the side of the wagon.

"What's the matter?" Tungdil was about to pull on the brake, but she stopped him with a wave.

"It's nothing; just keep going. Nфd'onn corrupted the force fields." She leaned back, and Balyndis handed her a pouch of water. "I channeled some of the energy, but it would probably kill me if I took any more." Her mouth snapped shut as she struggled to contain the next wave of nausea.

After traveling for two orbits they reached a set of points and continued alongside another rail. Suddenly a second wagon rolled up and drew level with theirs. Its passengers, a dozen or so orcs, seemed just as surprised as they were.