The Hammer of Fire

by Tom Liberman

  Dol’s hand went to his hair and he felt half a dozen or more of the little round apples in various states of growth.

  “You are really sprouting,” said Milli with a smile as she watched her friend. “It’s probably the change in climate or something,” she continued and put her arm around his waist. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Come along, I’ll take you to the horses,” said Manetho with another bow.

  “Do we get the same ones as before?” said Milli, her eyes darting back and forth looking for the horses.

  “Of course,” said Tahnoon. “They are fine geldings, bred especially for visitors.”

  “What’s a gelding,” said Brogus with a puzzled expression on his face at the unfamiliar word. Usually the translator device worked flawlessly.

  “A male horse than cannot breed,” replied the nomad. “They are more docile and if a stranger should ever steal one then the bloodline cannot be taken to our enemies.”

  “Your horses are that much superior to the other nomad’s steeds?” asked Petra her eyes keen to watch the nomad’s reactions.

  Tahnoon thought for a moment with his hand on his fat belly and then nodded his head, “Not other nomads so much as people outside the desert who want our horses for their own. Kings and princes and military leaders from many nations. Our horses are coveted by all who know them and I would imagine Corancil himself wouldn’t mind getting his hands on a few score to help his invasion plans.”

  Petra smiled, “I would imagine so.”

  “Here we are,” said Tahnoon as they arrived at an area well to the north of the main encampment where dozens of nomads watched over an open patch of well trampled dirt and scrabbly grass where dozens of horses galloped and played. He shouted something towards the nomads and within a few minutes the group found themselves reunited with their steeds from their earlier ride across the desert. “Manetho and I will ride with you out to the Broken Pyramid and there you will meet the Black Rider and discuss matters. After that he will continue his journey to the conference with the Jagged Edge nomads.”

  “The Broken Pyramid,” said Milli as she stroked the long, muscled neck of her horse. “What’s that?”

  Manetho and Tahnoon mounted their own horses and the group, Brogus with a leg up from another nomad, mounted theirs as well, “A pyramid not far from here that dates back to the Age of Elementals. We often use it as a rallying point. There are not that many landmarks here in the desert and such places are useful for gathering men,” said Manetho with a flourishing wave of his hand out towards the desert.

  “The Age of Elementals,” said Dol, now suddenly quite interested as he used his reins to turn the horse and face Manetho. “What do you know about that time?”

  Manetho looked at the tall dwarf with the apples, “I’m surprised such a thing interests you, my friend.”

  Dol nodded his head, “It interests me greatly and has to do with our quest to the south. I ask again,” this time with a sharp edge to his voice, “what do you know about the Age of Elementals?”

  Manetho shrugged his shoulders as the horses set off at a canter, “It was thousands of years ago but the desert preserves time more surely than the grassy plains. The elementals shaped the earth for untold generations but eventually were overthrown by an alliance of tree shepherds, dwarves, men, elves, and the other races. Their relics remain all over the world and many of the creatures still serve, spellbound, their conquerors.”

  “And the greatest of elementals, the most ancient four. Do you know them?” asked Dol.

  “We know mainly of those of fire here in the desert, the great first elemental Gazadum, his first-born son Shadak the Black Fire, the twins Hezfer the Blue Flame and Eleniak the Dancing Flame, the terrible Mountainous Fire Loigor, and there are others of course.”

  “Gazadum, the first fire elemental,” said Dol and fingered the hammer at his side, “what do you know of him?”

  The horses covered the dry lands of the Sands with breathtaking speed even moving along as casually as they did now. The thundering of their hooves on the hard sand and dirt drowned out the sounds around them and the nomad had to raise his voice to be heard, “He was the first.”

  “I know that,” said Dol and narrowed his eyes. “What else?”

  “Don’t be rude,” said Milli as she skillfully maneuvered her horse next to the dwarf, “are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine,” shouted Dol and then turned back to Manetho. “Tell me everything you know about Gazadum.”

  Manetho looked at Dol out of the corner of his eye and then waved one hand in sort of a circular movement. “That was thousands of years ago, my friend. I know he was the first and most powerful of the fire elementals. That with his three siblings they shaped the world. He supposedly lived in a volcano in the far northern realms but was driven out by the tree shepherds and their allies. Does this have something to do with why you’re looking for five volcanoes?”

  Dol nodded his head and fixed his steely eyes to the horizon, “It does.”

  “Dol,” said Milli trying to put warning in her voice.

  “Shut up, Milli,” said Dol with a fierce look at the halfling girl. His eyes had a reddish tint and his lips were curled in a snarl. “It doesn’t make any difference if he knows my mission.”

  “Our mission,” shouted Brogus from not far away as he held onto the reins with both hands with white knuckled intensity.

  “My mission,” said Dol. “I seek Gazadum,” he went on and took the handle of the Hammer of Fire in one hand and held it at eye level. “To destroy him.”

  Manetho raised his eyebrows, tilted his head to one side, “I wish you luck with that.” Then the nomad pointed his finger towards an object in the distance that seemed to waver back and forth in the waves of heat. The horses hooves continued their rhythmic beat as the shape began to coalesce into something their eyes could understand and within minutes they approached the massive pyramid.

  Its height was difficult to judge but Milli thought it might just fit into the Grand Hall of Craggen Steep whose ceilings measured nearly two hundred feet in height. The strange structure was possibly even wider than that at the base. The sides were sand-blasted stone and apparently smooth although as they approached, the weather-beaten nature of the structure came into clarity. The most striking feature was a long rent that started near the top of the pyramid and wound down the side they approached before it disappeared around the corner. It seemed likely the crack extended further down the side of the mammoth structure that faced away from them.

  “It’s massive,” said Brogus as all the horses stopped although his went a few strides further before he remembered to pull back on the reins. The short-legged dwarf tried to dismount gracefully but only managed to fall out of the saddle and onto the ground with a thump.

  “I thought the Black Rider was supposed to meet us here,” said Petra looking around at the absence of horsemen in the vicinity. Her hand went to the little knife at her side but the only nomads in evidence were Manetho and Tahnoon and she doubted they would attempt to attack them. Her eyes darted back and forth but she could see nothing of anyone else.

  “Apparently he was delayed,” said Manetho with a shrug of his shoulders. “Many people demand his time and circumstances arise that make his schedule unpredictable. I’m certain he will be along shortly. In the meantime, perhaps you would care to examine the pyramid, although I see your friend has already begun that process.”

  “I will go and find them,” said Tahnoon with a strange look at Manetho that Petra could not decipher. With that he spurred his horse and it rattled off into the desert soon disappearing in the waves of heat that shimmered in all directions.

  Brogus stood at the side of the great stone structure and ran his hand along its surface, leaned in close and smelled it, and then licked his finger. “Good work here,” he said. “Fine craftsmanship. It reminds me of the old parts of Craggen Steep but weathered for many centuries.”

  “Ea
rth elementals then?” said Dol as he too approached the side of the tremendous structure.

  “Or dwarves,” said Brogus with a smile. “Not goblins or elves. Too bad we don’t have our climbing gear,” he continued and chucked Dol on the shoulder. “Pitons, carabineers, quickdraws, and rope and we’d be up to the top in no time. I’d bet there are a dozen hidden chambers in there as well. We’d have to ascend to that big crack and do some digging. Who knows how much debris has piled up in there over th years. Think if some of the stone masters from back in Craggen Steep were here. What treasure they’d find? We have to remember this place, Dol. This world … this world is much bigger than I ever dreamed. I see it now for the first time. I see how we’re trapped in our city, held back by ancient laws, kept from exploring the world, using our wealth, our power.”

  Dol nodded his head as he touched the surface of the stone, “All this may be true, my friend, but this is the work of earth elementals, not fire, and is not my concern.”

  Brogus looked at Dol with a frown and shook his head from side to side, “You love masonry, this is ancient work, elemental work, we could spend months here.”

  “I don’t love it anymore,” said Dol with a shake of his head, turned away from the ancient stones, and walked back towards the group. He knew the stonework should interest him and one part of him wanted to explore the pyramid and learn its secrets but somehow he found himself bored by the stones. His hand went back to the hammer and began to gently caress the smooth, white handle covered by strange elven runes.

  “Your friend,” said Manetho to Petra and Milli with a nod of his hat head towards Dol, “has what we in the desert call a Holy See, a quest, a calling from the gods. I see now what drives you.”

  “He,” said Milli with a little turn-down of her lips, “he wasn’t always like this. He’s changed.”

  “We suspected you were spies,” said Manetho and pulled off his hat to wipe his sweaty head with a thick rag that he carried for just this purpose. “We planned to interrogate you and kill you after we learned all we knew.”

  Milli turned to him and gazed with strong, steady eyes, “I suspected … well, Petra suspected. Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I know now it is not true. You are not spies. You may have come from the north, possibly you promised Corancil you would learn what you could of us, but you are not here to spy. You are here for your quest; you are driven by the gods.”

  “Does this mean you won’t have us killed?” said Petra as she staggered over to join the conversation. The heat was too much for the older woman and her breath came in heavy pants as she sat down with a thump on a large rock. It looked of the same material as the pyramid itself, perhaps a left-over stone from the time of construction; it was rounded from centuries of weathering although there were hints that at one time it was square.

  “It means I will tell the Black Rider what I now know,” said Manetho and wiped his brow and the top of his head again, then looked at Petra and his eyes went soft. “The desert is harsh for strangers. Your skin, your lungs, they are unused to the conditions. We must get you into the shade. Come, Petra. Let’s us walk to the west side of the pyramid where it is cooler.”

  “Thank you, Manetho,” said Petra with a little smile as she put down a hand, unsteadily got to her feet, and began to walk with the nomad. “What decision will the Black Rider make about our future?”

  Manetho said nothing as the three made their way into the long, morning shadow cast by the pyramid. Dol stood aloof looking at the shimmering heat waves on the horizon while Brogus continued looking at the heavy stones of the Broken Pyramid. Even in the shade it was hotter than a normal summer day in the north but at least it seemed cool in comparison to the direct sunlight, and the nomadic clothes they wore somehow seemed to allow the breeze in but kept the sun off at the same time. Only when they reached the shade and sat down on a group of stone rocks apparently built exactly for that purpose did Manetho speak again, “I cannot say what the Black Rider will decide, but I see no reason for him to order your execution. He is a reasonable man … when left to make his own decision.”

  “Great,” said Milli with a broad smile that showed her brilliant white teeth to their best advantage.

  “You said if he is allowed to make his own decision,” said Petra not willing to forego the topic. “Who else would decide for him?”

  Manetho shrugged and looked at his feet.

  “Tahnoon?” said Petra persisting.

  “The vizier has great influence with Sheikh Ming,” said Manetho although he continued to look down. “When Ming emerged from the darkling lands he was badly wounded, nigh onto death. It was Tahnoon and his family that saved him from instant execution as a darkling. He nursed Ming back to health, gave him a position in his tribal family. There is a strong bond there that cannot be easily broken.”

  “And you think Tahnoon might prefer to execute us?” said Milli her yellow eyes narrow and gazing at the man intently.

  “I’ve known the vizier for over twenty years,” said Manetho as he leaned back on the stone and gazed at the blue sky. “The desert is a predictable land. It rains at the same time every year. The great migrations occur at the same time every year and the predators fill their bellies on this cycle.”

  “The vizier is also predictable,” said Petra and leaned forward to listen closely to the wizard’s words.

  “He is.”

  “And what do you predict?” asked the witch woman.

  Manetho shrugged again, mopped his brow and his head, and then looked at the old woman in the eyes, “I suggest you ride your horses as quickly as possible to the south.”

  “You’ll not stop us?” she said as Milli watched with wide eyes and a half-open mouth.

  “I’ll even provide a map,” suddenly smiling as he came to a decision. “I think you’ve appeared here for a reason. Perhaps only Ras knows the reason but I do not think it is a coincidence. I will help you today and I hope that you will remember me on some day that will come.”

  “I don’t see how we’ll ever be in position to help you,” said Milli with a smile although she shook her head, “but, that being said, if I can help you sometime in the future then I will.”

  Manetho nodded his own bald head and smiled with slightly upturned lips. “Ride south until you reach a river, it is called the Low River and it will be merely a trickle at this time of year. Turn directly west from there and ride as hard and straight as you can. You’ll pass the territories of the Fire Riders or perhaps, the Horns of the Minotaur. They are fierce tribes both but have tenuous alliances with the Black Rider. I will give you papers to show them and perhaps they will let you pass. Eventually you will reach a tall mountain range, The Desert’s End Mountains. Of course, the people that live beyond call it them the Desert’s Beginning but that is merely a matter of semantics. The dwarves of Temin live in the mountains and guard its passes fiercely. However, I think your friends might find allies that will guide you south to the grasslands of Shandoria. That is the volcanic land although I do not know if your five volcanoes are there or not. It is all that I can offer.”

  “How long will it take us to get to the mountains?” said Petra. “Do we have enough supplies on the horses?”

  “You are strangers and your animals were not well stocked I’m afraid to say. However, there are supplies hidden in the pyramid and we can use them to equip you for the journey. The water of the Low River will be murky this time of year but it is not toxic. Let us begin at once; there is no telling when the Black Rider and Tahnoon will arrive.”

  Chapter 15

  Brogus leaned back on the strange thick furs that covered the stone bed and burped loudly. He looked to his right and spotted Dol pacing furiously back and forth along the floor of their temporary chamber. Then he looked to his left and found a heavy pewter mug with the symbol of a dragon emblazoned on its side sitting on the table where he put it down just a moment before. He reached over to grasp it by the handle and mane
uvered it carefully to his chest where he set it down for a moment. He breathed deeply, sighed and smiled, and then carefully brought it to his lips and poured a generous swallow down his throat, although he failed to keep some from spilling out onto the fur. “Stop your pacing Dol,” he said as he tried to move the mug back to the side table. “You’re making me nervous. We’re home or at least in a place as close to being home as we can find. After the desert I’d think you’d be happy to sit down and rest.”

  “We are wasting time here,” said Dol and continued his pacing with his fingers tapping at the sides of his legs. “I don’t trust these dwarves. They’ll try to take the hammer. I see them looking at it.”

  Brogus rolled his eyes. “Nobody wants the hammer. They can’t even hold the thing.”

  “They don’t know that,” said Dol and turned to face Brogus with fiery eyes. “They’re dwarves, you’re a dwarf, you know how we covet pretty things. They’ll take it from us. Why do you think they haven’t sent us south yet?”

  “And we’ll never see those horses again,” said Milli suddenly appearing at the door with Petra. She wore a floral patterned cotton skirt that came to just above her knees and a lightweight blouse made of a gauzy material that showed a hint of the slender frame below. Her lips turned down as she thought of the magnificent horse that she rode across the desert and to the mountains. “I won’t let them take him or the hammer either, Dol. Trust me on that.”

  Petra, who wore a thick, wool jerkin with more dwarf-like blacksmith patterns, peered over Milli’s shoulder, “Hello all.”

  “Hi, Petra,” said Brogus barely able to lift his head from the comfortable pillow. “Did you find out when they’re going to let us head south?”

  “I asked you to find that out, you didn’t ask me,” said Petra with a shake of her head. “Do you even listen anymore?”