Текст книги "Slathbog's Gold"

Автор книги: Mark Forman

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chapter thirteen

Dwarf Realm

Morning came sooner than Alex would have liked after the company’s late night. It was wet and windy outside, though surprisingly warm. Skeld laughed at the weather in his usual manner, but the rest of them did not feel so happy. Halfdan complained loudly and asked more to himself than to his companions if it would be better to stay another day. Alex looked around the stable as he saddled Shahree, but there was no sign of Eric Von Tealo.

“A poor day to start, as Halfdan has noted,” Bregnest commented as they led their horses out of the stable.

“Poor or fair, Halfdan would rather have another drink than ride,” said Skeld, laughing merrily as he looked up at the sky.

Halfdan gave Skeld an evil look. The others saw the look and smiled at each other, knowing that Halfdan had consumed a large amount of the fine spiced ale of Techen the night before. Now his words and mood showed he was paying the price for his over-indulgence.

Ignoring the weather, they mounted their horses and Bregnest led them back to the city’s gates. The guards allowed them to pass with only a nod, obviously preferring their dry watch hut to asking questions in the rain. The company headed east, leaving the mud-colored city of Techen behind.

The rain continued to fall all day, but as night approached, the rain finally slowed to only a few drops. There had been little talk on the road, and Alex had spent the time thinking about his studies. He had learned the elfin letters and could read most of the book Iownan had given him.

Arconn was pleased with Alex’s progress, but each night, he insisted Alex spend some time with the magic book. Alex did what Arconn told him to do, though he worked much slower with the magic book than he did with the book Iownan had given him.

Alex had mixed feelings about magic, and a lot of questions as well. He didn’t doubt that magic worked; it was more that it seemed too easy. He worried that if things were too easy he wouldn’t appreciate them, that he might start to think of magic as a common thing.

Of course he was pleased that he could start fires and put them out with a simple command, and he was also pleased that the same magic had allowed him to defeat a troll. He could see that magic might be very useful, and he knew that learning more magic would be helpful. The voice at the back of his mind, however, warned him that magic could also be dangerous. Alex thought he should understand magic better before learning too much of it.

By the next morning, the rain had stopped completely, though the sky was still cloudy and dark. The winds had died down as well, and even Halfdan seemed to be in a better mood. The road was slick and muddy so they moved slowly. Arconn continued his practice of riding ahead or off to the side, returning with some item for Alex to identify.

This routine went on for a week, and on the eighth night after leaving Techen, Alex finally asked Arconn, “How much further is it to the Brown Hills?” He was supposed to be studying his magic book, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Tired of the journey already?” Arconn asked with a smile.

“No,” Alex replied. “I was just wondering how far away the hills are. Bregnest made it sound like the journey might take years, but I don’t see how it could.”

“If we could journey directly and without incident from the great arch to Varlo, it would take us four months, maybe five,” said Arconn. “However, we cannot ride directly to Varlo, and as you know from our encounter with the bandits and the troll, we cannot go far without meeting some kind of trouble.”

“Then why would it take years to travel from Techen to Varlo and back again?”

“As I said, we cannot go untroubled,” answered Arconn. “Though trouble might not be the best choice of words.”

“Is there a better word?” Alex asked, closing the magic book.

“Burdened might be better. After all, I would not call our visit to the White Tower trouble, but it was a burden.”

“How can you say that?” Alex questioned. He didn’t consider their visit to Iownan a burden.

“The Oracle gives knowledge, and with knowledge comes responsibility,” said Arconn. “Knowledge and responsibility are always a burden, even if we accept them willingly.”

“I understand,” replied Alex. “And will there be other places, like the tower, where we must stop before we reach Varlo?”

“Indeed there will be, though to say we muststop is not entirely accurate. Perhaps it is better to say that we chooseto stop. There are many places ahead of us where we may choose to stop—not least of which is the dark forest. Many of my kinsmen still live in this land after all and the dark forest is their home.”

“Your kinsmen?” Alex asked, surprised and delighted.

“Of course,” replied Arconn with a smile. “And we shall meet some of Thrang and Halfdan’s kinsmen as well when we reach the Brown Hills. Though dwarfs are not always as friendly with other dwarfs as elves are with other elves.”

“Dwarfs aren’t friendly with their own families?”

Arconn laughed happily. “Are you so friendly with your own family?”

“I have no real family,” Alex answered softly. “I only have a stepfather and a stepbrother.”

“Are not all men of the same family?” Arconn questioned thoughtfully. “Men live but a short time in most lands. They soon forget their own past.”

“Is it different with elves and dwarfs?”

“It is very different, especially for elves,” replied Arconn. “Dwarfs live many hundreds of years. Elves do not grow old at all, as I have told you.”

“So you remember your own past better,” Alex said.

“Yes, we do. Perhaps it is because we live so long that we remember so much more.”

“Will you live forever?”

“Perhaps,” Arconn replied thoughtfully. “Though as I told you, elves can die as surely as any other living thing.”

“It seems sad, in a way, that you go on living for so long,” said Alex.

“To many of us it is. And many of my race have left the known lands to find peace.”

“I remember you mentioned fading,” said Alex, thinking back to when he and Arconn had talked about this before. “Is fading like asking to die?”

“Nothing like that,” answered Arconn, his smile flickering slightly. “Those who choose to fade . . . well, it is hard to explain. I would say they seem to sleep and slowly vanish from the land. They are waiting for the lands to be renewed, and then they will wake once more.”

“And the dwarfs, can you tell me about them?” Alex asked.

“Ah, well,” Arconn began. “Perhaps Thrang or Halfdan should tell you about their own people, as I see things as an elf and not as a dwarf.”

“Please,” Alex persisted.

“Very well, I will tell you as I see it,” Arconn consented. “As I said, dwarfs do not live forever and to an elf their lives seem short.”

“But much longer than a man’s.”

“Much longer than mostmen,” Arconn corrected. “The dwarfs were once one people, living in one land. As time passed, they have spread to most of the known lands, and perhaps to a few lands that are not known to any but themselves.”

“So they have forgotten that they are one people?”

“Not at all,” Arconn replied, pausing for a moment to think. “Dwarfs know that they are one people, unlike men. However, they do not give their trust easily to strangers, even of their own kind. They are true in their friendships, but it is a hard-won friendship.”

“Will the dwarfs in the Brown Hills be unfriendly to us?”

“Perhaps. Though I think they will be kind enough. I don’t think they will hinder our journey.”

“How closely are Thrang and Halfdan related to the dwarfs here in Vargland?” Alex questioned.

“Closer than they might think. Though it has been a long time since any of Thrang’s people have come to Vargland.”

Alex and Arconn sat in silence for a time, watching the campfire burn down. It seemed incredible to Alex that elves could live forever, provided they weren’t killed. He wondered what it would be like to live so long, but it was hard to imagine.

“Your watch has passed,” said Arconn as the last flames of the fire fell into glowing embers.

“One more question, please,” said Alex, getting up.

“What more could you ask?”

“You said that dwarfs live longer than most men,” said Alex. “Are there men who live longer than dwarfs?”

“A few.”

“Can you tell me about them?” Alex pried.

“There are some men and women scattered through the known lands who live much longer than others. It is said some of them are like the elves. I have met a few of them myself, but I do not think they are like elves,” answered Arconn, his smile fading to a frown.

“Do you know why they live so long?” Alex asked.

“You said one more question, and now you have asked three,” said Arconn, his smile returning.

“But this is so interesting,” Alex argued. “I know so little, and things I thought I knew now seem to be wrong.”

“Very well,” Arconn replied. “I will tell you this one last thing for tonight, then you must sleep.”

“I promise.”

“The men who live so long are not like other men,” said Arconn. “Most of them are wizards of great power. A few are oracles like your friend Iownan. Others . . . others are neither wizard nor oracle, but live on just the same. Some of these men and women are good, some are evil, and some simply are.”

“Do all wizards live so long?” Alex asked, forgetting his promise.

“No, not all,” answered Arconn, his troubled look returning. “Only the most powerful, or the most evil. Now you must rest. We will talk of this again tomorrow if you wish.”

Alex left his friend sitting beside the glowing embers of the fire and made his way to his tent, his mind buzzing with additional questions. Alex’s feelings about magic were no longer as confused as they had been. And a part of him was actually beginning to like the idea of magic, even if he didn’t really understand it yet.

* * *

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and the company made good time across the open grasslands. By mid-

afternoon, they could see the outline of the Brown Hills on the far horizon, and seeing the hills seemed to please both Thrang and Halfdan.

“A few more days and we should reach the dwarf realm,” said Thrang while they ate dinner that night.

“I hope the stories of its greatness are true,” Halfdan added, a strange light in his eyes.

“And what are these stories?” Bregnest questioned.

“It is said that the halls of the Brown Hills are a wonder among dwarfs,” Halfdan replied reverently. “There are great halls carved from the living rock, and vast cities hidden from view. It is rumored that some of the old dwarf magic remains here in Vargland and that true silver is still found here in abundance.”

“Halfdan!” Thrang said loudly, an angry look on his face. “You should learn to hold your tongue.”

“Keeping secrets from the company?” asked Skeld, smiling slyly at Thrang.

“Not at all,” Thrang replied, embarrassed. “It’s just that . . . well, we don’t speak openly about the true silver of the Brown Hills. Not even among ourselves.”

“There is great wisdom in that,” said Arconn. “If half of what I have heard is true, the dwarf cities would soon be overwhelmed with traders seeking true silver.”

“And I daresay you’ve heard less than I have,” replied Thrang.

“What is true silver?” Alex asked.

Thrang looked around nervously before answering. “True silver is different than common silver. For one thing, it is much harder to find and thus worth much more—even more than gold. Once found and polished, true silver will never lose its shine.”

“It doesn’t turn black like normal silver?” Alex asked.

“No, it doesn’t,” answered Thrang. “But that has little to do with the value of true silver. It can be worked and forged into armor and weapons that are harder and stronger than any iron or steel. I suspect your wonderful sword is made of true silver, though it is difficult to tell. I don’t know why the blade is so dark, but I would guess it has something to do with the elf magic in it.”

“Dwarfs are keen on keeping true silver to themselves,” said Halfdan as Thrang fell silent. “Not so much for its value, but because of its beauty.”

“That’s true enough,” said Thrang with a smile. “True

silver can be shaped into wonderful things that never tarnish or break. It can also be used in cunning ways that others sometimes call dwarf magic.”

“Dwarf magic?” Alex questioned.

“Nothing like a wizard’s magic,” Halfdan said quickly. “Dwarf magic is more for making things like strong doors and tools that won’t break.”

“There are other kinds of dwarf magic as well,” Thrang added. “And not just any dwarf can do magic. Like starting and putting out fires, you have to have some magic in you to make it work.”

“But magic is magic, isn’t it?” Alex asked.

“Perhaps it all comes from the same place,” replied Thrang. “But dwarf magic is just used for things that dwarfs find helpful or pleasing. It’s normally not as strong as, say the magic in your sword or anything like that.”

“Do you think we will be able to see some true silver when we reach the Brown Hills?” Andy asked in a hopeful tone.

“Perhaps,” Thrang replied, sounding slightly worried. “But I would ask that none of you mention it to the dwarfs there. They’ll not be happy if they knew how much information we’ve shared. Too many questions will test any friendship they may offer us.”

“Then I will make it a command,” said Bregnest, looking at each member of the company in turn. “When we reach the dwarf realm, none of us will speak of true silver—except of course Thrang and Halfdan, who will know what to say and to whom.”

“A kind gesture,” said Thrang, getting to his feet and bowing to Bregnest.

There was little more talk before Bregnest and the others began rolling into their blankets for the night. Alex sat with Arconn by the campfire to keep his watch.

“You seem much more interested in your magic book tonight,” Arconn commented.

“A bit,” Alex replied with a smile.

“So you’ve decided you like the idea of magic now?”

“I’m still not sure,” answered Alex slowly. “I’ve been a little afraid of it. You know, after what you said about power and responsibility. I’ve also worried that magic can be dangerous if you don’t really understand it.”

“But your fear is starting to fade?” Arconn pressed.

“Yes, it is,” replied Alex. “I think it might be useful to know a bit more magic than I do now. When Thrang and Halfdan were talking about dwarf magic being used to help the dwarfs with things, I thought maybe I could learn some magic that would help us as we travel. You know, something more than just how to start and put out fires.”

“Indeed,” said Arconn. “But don’t forget the responsibility that comes with your knowledge and power, Alex. Any use of power has to be accounted for.”

“I’ll remember,” said Alex, closing his book and moving toward his blankets as his watch ended.

The next day remained sunny and the Brown Hills grew larger as the days passed. Arconn continued to bring Alex items from the roadside, though now there were very few of them that Alex could not name.

“Your knowledge has grown quickly,” said Arconn, glancing quickly at Alex and then back to the road. “Soon you will know all the plants in the book the Oracle gave you.”

“The plants, maybe,” said Alex, smiling at Arconn. “Though I know little of the potions and less about the

animals.”

“That will come in time,” said Arconn, laughing. “It seems another fire has been lit inside of you—a fire of learning.”

Alex did not reply, happy to ride along and watch the Brown Hills grow into mountains in front of them. Arconn was right, he thought. His desire to learn was like a fire inside him. His nightly watch always seemed too short, and he would often stay into Arconn’s watch to ask questions of his friend.

“Here is a sign,” said Thrang loudly, interrupting Alex’s thoughts.

Thrang pointed to a large stone pillar standing by the side of the road. Hundreds of small, neatly cut markings covered the pillar, and Alex realized that the markings were some kind of writing.

“We are now entering the lands of the dwarf realm of Vargland,” said Thrang happily. “The pillar says we should ride forward until sunset. We will be met as the sun sinks into the west.”

“Met by whom?” Bregnest questioned, looking at the pillar.

“It doesn’t actually say,” answered Thrang. “If they follow custom, though, we should be met by soldiers and a warden of the king.”

“Soldiers?” Andy questioned nervously.

“Not to trouble us,” said Halfdan. “But as a sign of respect.”

“And in case we’re troublemakers, I would guess,” Thrang added. “If we look like trouble, they may attack, but they would probably give us the chance to withdraw first.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to go forward?” Bregnest asked, sounding unhappy about the soldiers and Thrang’s words.

“’Course it is,” said Thrang with a grunting laugh. “It’s not as if we’re here to make trouble.”

“But will your cousins know that?” Skeld asked slyly.

Bregnest didn’t wait for Thrang’s reply. He asked Arconn and Thrang to change places in line before the company continued. Arconn smiled at the request, though Thrang seemed a bit put out by it.

“It’s really not necessary,” Thrang protested loudly. “It’s not as if we’re in any danger.”

“But you should have a place of honor,” said Arconn. “And most dwarfs are not overly fond of elves in any event.”

“You’re right about that,” Thrang admitted, taking his place as the company rode forward. “But I’m sure you’ll be well received, and if you’re not, I’ll have something to say about it.”

“Then let us hurry to the reception,” said Skeld loudly.

Following Bregnest and Thrang, the group rode past the stone pillar, heading for the Brown Hills. As the sun began to drop behind them, they suddenly came to a halt.

“Declare yourselves,” a loud voice called out.

Alex looked, but he could not see where the voice came from.

“Silvan Bregnest and company,” Bregnest called back. “We are a company of adventurers, traveling to the east.”

For a few moments there was silence, then the voice called back again.

“We see two of our kinsmen among your company. Have them come forward.”

Slowly, and with Bregnest’s approval, Thrang and Halfdan moved away from their companions toward the voice. For several minutes, the rest of them heard nothing, and then the voice called again.

“Your companions have vouched for you. You may approach,” the voice called.

They all moved forward, following the road and looking around as they went. Alex spotted several dwarfs standing in the shadows of large rocks on either side of the road now that he was closer. The fading light made them difficult to see.

“Hold and dismount,” the voice commanded as the company rode into the shadow of a large hill.

They did as instructed, moving forward to stand in a line with their horses behind them.

“Welcome,” said a round dwarf, stepping out of the shadows. “We seldom see such a company in these times. Your companions have spoken well of you. If you will come with us, we will lead you to the city of King Osrik.”

“You are most kind,” said Bregnest, bowing. “My companions and I are grateful for the hospitality of the great dwarf realm.”

“My lord, King Osrik, will wish to welcome you himself. I am sure he will wish to speak with you about many things,” the round dwarf said, returning Bregnest’s bow.

“We would be honored to greet your king,” replied Bregnest, bowing once more.

The dwarf smiled and then turned and started walking away. Bregnest and the others followed on foot; Thrang and Halfdan rejoined the company after a few hundred yards, beaming with happiness.

“We are in luck,” said Thrang to Bregnest. “King Osrik is an old friend of my father, from years back.”

Alex looked around and saw that the dwarfs he’d spotted earlier were following them. They were moving quietly a short distance behind the company, and they seemed to be watching Alex and his friends closely.

“You may leave your horses here,” said the round dwarf as they approached a large barn concealed near the mountainside. “We have few horses of our own, and they are not allowed inside the city.”

“Sorry, Shahree,” Alex said, leading her into the barn. “I’m sure the dwarfs will look after your needs.”

Shahree nuzzled his shoulder softly as a sign that she understood him, and Alex smiled. He patted her neck gently before turning to follow his companions out of the barn. The dwarfs who were in the barn had noticed Alex speaking to Shahree, and they all smiled broadly at him as he left.

Alex and his companions followed the round dwarf along a wide path that led up into the mountains. The path seemed to flow along the side of the mountain like a strange river, climbing gently upward. The path twisted back on itself several times as they climbed high above the foothills. As they walked around the side of the mountain, the main gates to the dwarf city came into view.

Alex was surprised by what he saw. The two huge stone doors of the main gate were at least thirty feet tall. They were open, folded back against the mountainside. On either side of the giant doorway stood a dozen well-armed guards in bright silver armor. A warm light shone from the large cavern behind the main doors, and it felt very welcoming as the shadows of night covered the valley behind them.

Their guide led them through the giant gates and into the cavern, nodding to the guards as they passed. Alex was impressed with the smooth stone walls and floors of the cavern; the wonderfully carved pillars lining the passageway were beyond description. The roof of the cavern was at least fifty feet high and expertly carved with all kinds of decorations, just like the pillars.

After a short walk, the company entered another vast stone hall, which was lit by hundreds of gold and silver lamps. The stone floor was so well polished it reflected the light like a mirror. At the far end of the hall, the floor rose several feet, forming a large stone pedestal, which was surrounded by neat stone circles that served as wide steps leading up to it. At the top of the steps, sat a very old-looking dwarf in a large stone chair. Alex knew without being told that this was King Osrik. As they approached the pedestal, the dwarf who had been their guide motioned for them to stop and form a line. Climbing the first three steps toward the king, their guide began to speak.

“My Lord Osrik,” the dwarf said loudly. “This company of adventurers has come at your goodwill. Among their number are two of our kinsmen from far off Thraxon. They speak well of their comrades and vouch for their honor. They await your pleasure, King Osrik, as they stand before you—”

“Enough,” said Osrik, waving his hand impatiently. “You are as long-winded as ever, and the feast is nearly prepared.”

Alex smiled at Osrik’s words, but bowed his head so no one would see.

“Tell me your names,” said Osrik, standing and moving down the stairs toward Alex and his companions.

“Silvan Bregnest,” Bregnest answered, bowing to the king. “I am the leader of this company.”

“And an able leader, I daresay,” Osrik replied with a smile.

“Thrang Silversmith,” said Thrang, also bowing to the king.

“Ah, yes, Thrang,” said Osrik in a happy tone. “I knew your father well. You look very much like him.”

“You are most kind,” Thrang replied with another bow.

The king continued down the line until he came to Alex. Alex was nervous, having never met a king before. He started to bow before he told the king his name, then catching himself, he blushed bright red.

“Alexander Taylor,” he managed to say as he finished his bow.

“Don’t worry,” said Osrik, smiling at Alex. “I do hate formalities, but the chamberlain insists.”

Alex returned the king’s smile, liking the old dwarf immediately. Osrik seemed pleased with Alex as well; he took him by the arm and started to walk back through the hall with him.

“Come along, then, one and all,” he said in a jaunty tone. “The feast will be ready shortly, and we can have a good long talk while we eat.”

The king smiled brightly at Alex as they walked, and he would nod now and then to one of the dwarf guards who all bowed as they passed.

“The guards are a custom,” Osrik said in a lowered tone, as if speaking privately to Alex. “Personally, I think all this bowing and nodding is more trouble than it’s worth. But I suppose we have to keep up appearances.”

Osrik led them into another hall, which was almost overflowing with dwarfs. The dwarfs sat at long, low tables, talking happily and loudly. As the king and his guests entered the hall, all of the dwarfs stood up, waiting for Osrik to take his own seat at the head of the hall.

“Well, now,” said Osrik, looking at Alex and his companions. “It seems you have traveled far in coming here. I do hope you have some good tales to tell.”

“As many as you may wish to hear, Lord Osrik,” Bregnest replied from his seat at the king’s left.

Alex thought the king seemed like a kindly old man, and he had to remind himself that Osrik was a dwarf. Osrik was polite to each of the company as the feast was served, asking them about their own lands and travels. He spoke for a long time with Thrang and Halfdan, asking about people he knew from long ago and events in far-off Thraxon. Alex felt comfortable sitting next to Thrang and listening to all the talk.

“I suppose we should all get some sleep,” Osrik said at last. “I’ve had chambers prepared for you all. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

“You show us great kindness, Lord Osrik,” Bregnest replied for the group.

“Yes, well, we don’t often see travelers, and I do miss the news they bring,” said Osrik. “However, tomorrow we have more serious matters to talk about. You will be summoned to the great hall after breakfast.”

The entire hall rose again as Osrik stood to leave. Alex and his companions stood and bowed to the king to show their respect and thanks. As soon as Osrik had left, the other dwarfs began to wander off as well, though some of them remained and watched Alex and his friends. While Alex was looking around the hall, a young-looking dwarf appeared at Bregnest’s side and bowed to him.

“The king has asked that I show you to your sleeping chambers and supply you with whatever you may need,” said the young dwarf.

“And what may we call you?” asked Bregnest.

“I am called Thrain,” the dwarf replied with a broad smile. “It is my great honor to meet you,” he added with a deep bow.

Bregnest returned the dwarf’s bow. “We are pleased to know you, Thrain, and will follow where you lead.”

Thrain blushed slightly at Bregnest’s words, obviously happy with his duty of leading the adventurers through the dwarf city.

“Are you really adventurers then?” Thrain asked in a reverent tone as he led them out of the feasting hall. “I mean, if you don’t mind saying.”

“We are,” Bregnest replied with a kindly smile.

“I’ve never met any real adventurers before,” Thrain said breathlessly. “It must be amazing and wonderful to go on adventures.”

“And often sad, dangerous, and uncomfortable,” replied Thrang, walking beside Bregnest. “It’s not a path any may

follow, as I’m sure you have been told.”

“Indeed, yes, Master Silversmith, I have,” answered Thrain. “But like many others here, I hope to be chosen when the time comes.”

“Why would any wish to leave the beauty and comfort of this dwarf realm?” Halfdan questioned.

“The hearts of the young are often restless,” Thrang commented. “You should remember how you felt before you were chosen, Halfdan.”

Thrain led them along the well-lit corridors of the dwarf city and after turning many corners and climbing several stairways, they entered another large chamber. Several small alcoves had been cut into the rock walls of the chamber, and each alcove contained a bed and a lamp.

“I hope you will be comfortable here,” said Thrain. “If you need anything in the night, simply ring the bell. I, or one of my friends, will come directly.”

“Our thanks, Master Thrain,” Bregnest replied with a slight bow. “We are in the king’s debt for so fine a guide.”

Thrain smiled and bowed almost to the floor, then turned and left the company alone in the chamber.

“The king has been very kind,” commented Thrang, testing one of the beds. “And not least of all to our young wizard.”

“What do you mean?” Alex questioned.

“When the king took your arm and walked with you into the feasting hall,” answered Halfdan with a smile. “Among dwarfs, that is a great show of respect.”

“Why did he take my arm and not Bregnest’s or Thrang’s?” Alex asked quickly.

“Perhaps he saw something in you that we all have begun to see,” Thrang replied. “Or perhaps his dislike of pomp and ceremony made him choose you, our youngest member. I know little about Osrik, though I think he sees things better than most.”

“And now we should all take advantage of the king’s kindness and get some sleep,” said Bregnest before Alex could ask any more questions.

“That would be best. It’s likely that we’ll be called early in the morning,” replied Thrang.

Alex selected a bed of his own. He was concerned that Osrik had shown him so much respect, and had not chosen Bregnest, Thrang, or even Halfdan to walk with. He put off his worries by remembering Osrik’s dislike for ceremony, hoping that was the reason for Osrik’s attention.