Markus Heitz - The Dwarves

She nodded. "Praise be to Vraccas! Nфd'onn would still be alive if you weren't!" She smiled. "You're a true dwarf, Tungdil. I don't care which folk you belong to. I know in my heart that I can trust you, and that's what counts."

He gave her hand a grateful squeeze. Let's hope the others are as understanding.

Meanwhile, Andфkai and a unit of dwarves had stormed the walkway and were attending to the wounded Narmora. Boпndil had been cut down by Caphalor and needed the maga's attentions as well. Djerun was back on his feet again, his visor firmly closed and his face still a mystery.

Dwarven healers hurried over with water, balms, and dressings. Now that the duel with the demon was over, Tungdil was acutely aware of his injuries and allowed himself to be salved and bandaged. He found a worthy place for Keenfire in Giselbert Ironeye's belt.

He didn't have much opportunity to relax. Already Rodario was hurrying toward him.

"My apologies for bothering Girdlegard's valiant hero, but I think we should check on Furgas," he said anxiously. "Who knows what…"

"Valiant hero?" Tungdil grinned. Not bad for a scholar. I hope Frala and Lot-Ionan can see me now. He straightened up and checked his bandages. "In that case, I'll have to rejoin the battle. In books the hero always keeps fighting to the end."

"Blasted дlfar, they always creep up on you. I didn't hear him coming. He loomed up like a shadow and attacked me from behind." Boпndil, his chest swathed in bandages, hobbled down the stairs. "That's right, scholar, just like in a book. My brother would be proud of you."

"Boпndil!" Smiling with relief, Tungdil thumped him gently on the back: The thought of losing another friend had been too much to bear. "Let's check on Furgas."

Tungdil, Rodario, Balyndis, Boпndil, and Djerun hurried away. Andфkai caught up with them after a few paces: They had started the journey as strangers and wanted to end it as friends. Blacksaddle, Kingdom of Gauragar, Girdlegard, Winter, 6234th Solar Cycle A chill wind was buffeting the flat summit of the Blacksaddle, but shafts of sunlight shone through the clouds and warmed the earth, heralding the coming of spring.

"For many cycles this mountain was known as a place of foreboding, a dreaded stronghold where a plot was hatched to destroy the dwarven race. Today's events have changed all that. From this day forth, the Blacksaddle will be seen as a symbol of hope, a symbol of a better future in which elves, men, and dwarves will work together for the good of Girdlegard." Gandogar paused for a moment and surveyed the assortment of leaders and warriors gathered on top of the Blacksaddle.

Half a cycle ago he would have ridiculed the idea of elven, human, and dwarven rulers uniting on the accursed peak to celebrate a battle fought as allies, not foes.

His eyes traveled over the faces before him. Prince Mallen of Ido was sitting beside Lord Liъtasil of Вlandur. Next came King Balendilнn Onearm of the clan of the Firm Fingers and Queen Xamtys II of the clan of the Stubborn Streaks, and behind them were Nate, Bruron, and the other human sovereigns, not forgetting Andфkai, of course.

After that, there was a short gap to the first row of commoners, made up of Girdlegard's most distinguished warriors-dwarves, elves, and men. They were straining to hear what their leaders were discussing. Gandogar could see Tungdil and Balyndis among them, with Djerun towering like a pinnacle at their side.

"Together we defeated the monstrous issue of Nudin the Knowledge-Lusty's alliance with a demon from the north. Nфd'onn is dead, the Perished Land has been banished from Girdlegard, and nature is returning to her ancient ways. Together we achieved all this, and our kingdoms were saved, saved because we buried old grudges, overcame our mutual distrust, and joined forces in Girdlegard's hour of need." He raised his arms. "We prevailed! Is this not reason enough to forget our past quarrels?"

He waited for a moment, allowing his words to take effect.

"You, Prince Mallen of Ido, rallied the human warriors after their defeat at Porista and led the united army to the Blacksaddle in a courageous stand against Nфd'onn." He smiled solemnly at Idoslane's ruler, then turned to face the elven leader. "And you, Lord Liъtasil of Вlandur, welcomed us into your kingdom when we asked for your help. Your heart must have counseled you against it, but you came to our aid." He looked at Balendilнn and Xamtys. "And you, worthy children of the Smith, you reforged the bonds between our kingdoms and honored the duty entrusted to us by Vraccas." He raised his voice triumphantly. "Friends, together we rescued Girdlegard!"

The warriors of the assembled races thumped their shields and banged their weapons together.

"We must rid our hearts of hatred. Our past battles are just that: They belong in the past and are best forgotten. This orbit marks the start of a new age: one of peace, cooperation, and friendship." He held his ax aloft, and the other monarchs rose to their feet to pledge a new era of friendship.

This time his speech was met with deafening cheers. Swept away by the excitement, Balyndis planted another kiss on Tungdil's lips. Even in the last moments of the battle she hadn't known whether or not they would succeed, and now she was overcome with gladness and relief. "You must be really proud," she said.

"Proud of what? Being a thirdling?" he retorted, only half joking. His voice was edged with resentment.

"Proud of being the only thirdling to save the dwarven folks instead of trying to destroy them." She smiled. "Come on, Tungdil, we're lucky to have made it alive."

He thought of Narmora and Furgas lying side by side in the stronghold. They would have shared a different fate if Andфkai hadn't summoned the last of her strength to invoke a healing charm. Dwarven physicians were still tending to their wounds. Then there were those who had been gathered to Vraccas's smithy: I haven't forgotten you, Bavragor and Goпmgar.

He looked up to see Gandogar pointing straight at him.

"But above all we owe our thanks to Tungdil Goldhand," announced the dwarven king. "Step forward, Tungdil."

Nervously, he obeyed.

"Take a good look at him, for without Tungdil, without his stubbornness, his ingenuity, and most important, his unshakable faith in our mission, none of us would be standing here today. Without Tungdil Goldhand, Nфd'onn would have killed or enslaved us all."

Suddenly it seemed to Tungdil that every dwarf, elf, and man on the Blacksaddle was staring at him. He blushed and felt terribly embarrassed. He reached down and rested a hand on Keenfire, which made him feel slightly less shy.

"We will never be in a position to repay our debt," said Gandogar gravely. "But know this: For as long as you live, Tungdil Goldhand, I will do everything in my power to satisfy your every wish."

Liъtasil turned his slender, graceful face toward him. "We have never numbered among the dwarves' closest friends, but we are beholden to you, Tungdil Goldhand. We too will grant you whatever you desire."

The human sovereigns swore similar oaths of gratitude while Tungdil squirmed in embarrassment.

"Prithee, stop, Your Majesties," he interrupted.

Boпndil rolled his eyes. "Here he goes again. Wake me up when he's finished."

Tungdil took a deep breath. "You don't owe me anything. My only wish has been granted already: All I want is for dwarves, elves, and men to come together in friendship, not war. You pledged an end to our quarreling, and what more could I desire? Gold and riches count for nothing without peace. I can't accept your gifts, but I shall gladly accept your thanks, especially on behalf of my companions, Bavragor Hammerfist of the clan of the Hammer Fists and Goпmgar Shimmerbeard of the clan of the Shimmer Beards. Bavragor and Goпmgar risked everything for Girdlegard, and they paid the highest price. Keenfire would never have been forged without them."