Markus Heitz: The Dwarves

The elven lord inclined his head toward him. "You speak with the wisdom of a true leader, Tungdil Goldhand. If ever we are in danger of resuming our old rivalries, you must remind us of the oaths of friendship sworn today. You will always be welcome in Вlandur."

There was thunderous applause from the warriors, who hammered on their shields, sounded their bugles, and cheered tirelessly. Tungdil scurried back to Balyndis's side.

Boпndil pretended to scowl at him. "Show us your tongue," he demanded. "I bet you've talked it into knots."

Tungdil just grinned. He was happy that his lessons in rhetoric had been put to proper use.

After a while the assembly dissolved and the allied armies retired to the stronghold to celebrate their victory and negotiate their newfound friendship.

Balendilнn and Gandogar joined the others. "What an orbit this has been!" the secondling king said happily. "Who would have thought it would turn out so well?" He thumped Tungdil on the shoulder. "Vraccas sent us the dwarf of all dwarves, and if anyone cares to dispute it, I'll set up another contest with five new tasks." He laughed and the others joined in.

Gandogar noticed that Tungdil's jollity seemed a little forced. "Is something the matter?" "It's nothing."

"No, something's wrong. Is it because you think you're a thirdling?"

"I am a thirdling! How else could I have awoken Keenfire's power?"

"Then be proud to be a thirdling, Tungdil," Balendilнn exhorted him solemnly. "Show your kinsfolk, show every dwarf in Girdlegard, that Lorimbur's descendants aren't all as dastardly and conniving as Bislipur and Glamdolin. Incidentally," he added with a mischievous smile, "were you planning to return to Ogre's Death or is there somewhere else you'd rather be?"

"Balyndis and I won't be going to the firstling kingdom, if that's what you mean," he said, grinning bashfully. "We're both smiths at heart, and our interests and experiences have soldered us together. We've decided to go to the Gray Range. Boпndil's coming with us and we'll pick up Boлndal on the way. I promised Giselbert Ironeye that I wouldn't abandon his kingdom and I intend to keep my word."

The rising winds carried a foul smell to their nostrils. It came from the plains around the Blacksaddle, where the corpses of ogres, orcs, bцgnilim, and дlfar were strewn. The combined army of elves, dwarves, and men had laid waste to the enemy battalions. A few undead troopers had survived the massacre, only to lose their lives forever with the defeat of the Perished Land. Their corpses were rotting in the winter sunshine, but the carnage would soon be frozen overnight.

"It will take time to bury all the bodies," Gandogar said grimly. "I hope the earth can suffer so much death."

Rodario joined them, quill and notebook in hand. "A magnificent finale for a play, don't you think? Too many corpses for practical purposes-we'd never fit them on stage." He stopped making notes and extended his hand toward Tungdil. "It was a privilege to accompany you. If you find yourself in Mifurdania, be sure to visit the Curiosum. We'll be celebrating our grand reopening." He winked at Tungdil. "As the star of the show, you'll qualify for free admission-and Balyndis as well."

"When are you off?"

"As soon as my prop master and my leading lady are fit to ride. A fortnight or so, I expect. In the meantime, they've found room for us here."

Andфkai strode toward them. "Djerun and I are leaving. I need to get back to my realm and find some new famuli."

"Why the hurry, dear heart?" Rodario said lightly.

The maga refused to be drawn. "I don't want to spoil the mood."

"Impossible!" he declared with overblown enthusiasm. "Nothing could spoil a victory like this!"

"I wouldn't be so sure." Her lips were unsmiling. "What if Nфd'onn wasn't lying after all?"

"About the western peril?" The impresario laughed incredulously. "My dear lady, you shouldn't be fooled by a cheap trick like that. You disappoint me!"

"Say what you like, but I intend to be vigilant." She laid her hand on Tungdil's arm. "At least I'll know where to find Keenfire and its valiant bearer, should Nudin prove right." At last her stern face relaxed. "You're stubborn enough to take on any kind of peril single-handed," she told him.

She took her leave of the company, giving everyone except Rodario a long embrace. He pouted and stalked away, only to turn after a few paces and wave. "Farewell, enchanting maga. I shall take your advice and devote my attentions to women who know how to appreciate me-and believe me, they do!"

Andфkai hurried away, followed, as always, by Djerun. The others watched in silence as the strange pair passed from sight. Balendilнn called the group to attention by clearing his throat.

"I must take my leave as well, dear friends. The assembly will soon be meeting to decide the succession, and I need to make sure that everything's in place." He inclined his head toward Gandogar. "I don't doubt that the delegates will vote in your favor. You have proven yourself a worthy heir since stepping out of Bislipur's shadow; I know you will make an excellent high king."

"I'd even vote for him myself," said Tungdil with a grin. He held out his hand to Gandogar, who shook it firmly and seemed moved. "Don't forget to send a hundred of your best warriors and artisans to the fifthling kingdom. That goes for all the folks-Balyndis and I will appreciate the company, and we won't be able to defend the Stone Gateway on our own. I want to rebuild Giselbert's kingdom." He paused for a moment, remembering the promise he had made. "The Gray Range will belong to the children of Vraccas. Who knows, perhaps our mysterious rescuers will join us? They might be glad to leave the drafty tunnels for a more comfortable home."

"You should certainly ask them," Gandogar concurred.

"Vraccas will be proud to see us forging a folk of our own. But what should we do about the thirdlings?" Balendilнn asked.

Tungdil turned to the east and gazed in the direction of the Black Range, where Lorimbur's descendants had made their home.

"I can't be the only thirdling who wasn't born to hate his fellow dwarves," he said softly. "Once things are settled in the fifthling kingdom, I'll pay them a visit and see what they have to say." He looked into the eyes of the three dwarven rulers. "I meant what I said when I asked for peace. The thirdlings are no exception."

Balyndis smiled and took his hand. He gave it a little squeeze.

Gradually the others made their way down from the mountain. Balyndis and Tungdil lingered on the summit until the sun dropped below the horizon and stars filled the sky. There was a crisp chill in the air, reminding them that Girdlegard was still in the grip of winter.

Tungdil had wrapped his fingers around Balyndis's hand and had no intention of letting go.

Just then a shooting star left a glittering trail from east to west, the white light turning red as it shot across the sky. There was a brief red flare; then the light dispersed into myriad crimson dots that reminded Tungdil of scattered blood. At last they were swallowed by the darkness of the sky.

"Was that a good or a bad omen, do you think?" Balyndis asked uncertainly.

He gave a shrug, then stepped back and hugged her from behind. "A good omen," he said after a short silence, running his hand over her downy cheeks.

"How do you know?"

He studied the night sky and spotted the distant lights of settlements. He was glad of the stillness that peace had brought with it. The prospect of spring, when trees and plants would blossom throughout Girdlegard, was exciting. All Girdlegard will be covered in greenery for the first time in a thousand cycles.

"After everything we've been through, it has to be a good omen," he whispered in her ear. "It was red, the color of love, so it must mean something good. Come on, let's find the others. We've got something to celebrate."