Dragons of the Dwarven Depths

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Dragons of the Dwarven Depths Page 31

by Margaret Weis


  “What about him?” Tanis asked, not understanding.

  Caramon jerked a thumb at the boat. “He swore he’d never set foot in one again.”

  Tanis remembered. Flint was terrified of boats. He claimed it was because Caramon had once nearly drowned him during a fishing expedition. Tanis glanced with trepidation at his friend, expecting a scene. To his surprise, Flint regarded the boats with quiet equanimity and did not seem in the least bothered. After a moment, Tanis realized why.

  The dwarf has not been born who can swim. A dwarf in the water sinks like a rock—like a whole sack of rocks. No dwarf feels comfortable on the water, and they had designed their boats with this in mind. The boats were flat-bottomed, long, wide, and solidly built, with never a thought of rocking, swaying, or bobbing in the water. Low seats lined high, windowless, wooden sides that blocked out all sight of the water gurgling beneath.

  Arman hustled the companions into the boat, saying they had a long way to go yet before they reached the Court of Thanes, which was located on one of the upper levels. The dwarves on the docks continued to stare after them as they departed. Then one voice called out.

  “Throw the cursed helm in the lake and Marman Arman along with it.”

  Marman Arman. “Marman” was Dwarvish slang for “crazy.” Flint glanced at Arman, curious to see what he would do. All he could see was his back. Arman stood in the prow, staring straight ahead. His back was rigid, his shoulders braced, his chin jutting in the air. He acted as if he hadn’t heard the insulting play on words.

  Flint shifted slightly so that he could see Arman’s face. The young dwarf was flushed, his jaw set. His fists were clenched, nails digging into his palms.

  “I will find it,” he swore. His eyes blinked rapidly, and tears glittered on his lashes. “I will!”

  Flint looked away in embarrassment, wishing he hadn’t seen. He did not like Arman, considering him a boaster and a braggart, but he found himself feeling sorry for him, as he had once felt sorry for a half-elf who could not find a home among either elves or humans, as he’d felt sorry for orphaned twins left to fend for themselves at an early age, and for a young Solamnic boy separated from his father and forced to live in exile.

  Flint did not consciously equate Arman with the others. He certainly had no intention of coming to the aid of this young dwarf who had put them under arrest, but by the same token, Flint had never intended to come to the aid of Tanis, Sturm, Raistlin, or Caramon. If anyone had accused him of such a thing, he would have vehemently denied it. The twins happened to be neighbors; Tanis happened to need a business partner. That was all.

  Still, at that moment, Flint felt extremely sorry for Arman Kharas. If the old dwarf could have found who shouted out the insult, he would have slugged him.

  The cable boat landed on the Life Tree dock. There were larger crowds here, a mixture of all the clans. Soldiers had cordoned off an area and were holding back the gawkers. The companions met with the same scowls, the same dark looks, the same ominous silence that was broken only by the cheerful voice of the kender, who was constantly trying to stop to introduce himself and shake hands, only to be dragged away by a grim-faced Caramon.

  Then, from somewhere in the crowd’s midst, a low rumbling sound started, like the growl of a gigantic beast with many throats. The growling grew louder and more menacing and suddenly the mob surged forward, straining against the soldiers, who held them in place with by locking arms and bracing their feet firmly on the stone floor.

  “You’d better get them out of here, Your Highness!” a captain cried in dwarven to Arman. “Some are Klar dock workers, and you know the Klar, crazy as rabid bats. I can’t hold them back for long.”

  Arman pointed to a transport shaft that carried the dwarves up and down the levels of the Life Tree. The companions raced for it, with Hylar soldiers closing in behind them, prodding those who came too close with the ends of the spears.

  They scrambled into the large bucket-like carriers, which, Caramon was thankful to see, were far more stable than the crude kettle-turned-bucket-turned-carrier they’d encountered at Xak Tsaroth. Crammed inside the bucket along with Arman Kharas, the companions stared out at the thwarted mob. The car gave a lurch and began to clank upward, jolting everyone.

  They made the clanking, clattering, jerking ascent in tense silence. The strange world in which they found themselves, the oppressive darkness, the dangers they had already faced, and the hostile reception were beginning to tell on all of them.

  “I wish you’d never found this helm,” Flint said suddenly, glaring at Raistlin. “Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!”

  “Do not blame me,” Raistlin retorted. “If the fool knight had heeded my warning and not stuck his nose in the helm—”

  “—we wouldn’t be here in Thorbardin now,” Sturm countered in icy tones.

  “No,” Flint returned caustically, “we’d be someplace else, someplace where people didn’t want to slit our throats!”

  “Just get off Raistlin’s back, will you, Flint?” Caramon said heatedly. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “I do not need you to defend me, Caramon,” Raistlin said, adding bitterly, “You can all go to the Abyss for all I care.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go to the Abyss,” Tasslehoff said. “Wouldn’t you like to go there, Raistlin? It must be horrible! Wonderfully horrible, that is.”

  “Oh, just shut up, you doorknob!” Flint thundered.

  “Good advice for us all,” said Tanis quietly.

  He stood braced against the side of the lurching carrier, his arms crossed, his head bowed. Everyone knew immediately what he was thinking—of the refugees who were their responsibility, and of the people counting on them to find safety. Perhaps the refugees were fleeing for their lives this moment, running from their enemies, putting all their hopes for survival on them, and this would be their welcome: angry mobs, swords and spears, boulders hurled at them from the darkness.

  Sturm, frustrated, twisted his mustache. Caramon flushed guiltily. Tasslehoff opened his mouth, only to shut it again when Raistlin rested his hand in gentle remonstrance on the kender’s shoulder. Flint kept his glowering gaze fixed on the floor of the bucket, refusing to look at any of them, for he guessed rightly that they were all looking at him.

  And the Helm of Grallen. The cursed Helm of Grallen.

  The bucket clanked its way up the transport, rising higher and higher inside the shaft. When the bucket finally shuddered to a stop, they found themselves on one of the very top levels of the stalactite. Here, according to Arman, was the Court of Thanes, where the Council of Thanes would be meeting this day to consider the destruction of the gate and the return of a ghost.

  10

  The Thanes of Thorbardin.

  Dark allies.

  anis and the others had no way of knowing that by walking into the Court of Thanes, they were walking into a trap. For unbeknownst to any of them, including the other Thanes, Queen Takhisis had seduced one of their number and convinced him to join her evil cause.

  The Council of Thanes ruled Thorbardin and had done so for centuries. Each of the eight dwarven kingdoms had a seat on the Council: Hylar, Theiwar, Neidar, Klar, Daewar, Daergar, and Aghar.

  The Hylar, due to their education and innate skills in diplomacy and leadership, had long been the dominant clan of Thorbardin. Although there was currently no High King, the Hylar, under the leadership of their Thane, Hornfel, maintained nominal control over the kingdoms and were working hard to keep civil war from breaking out beneath the mountain. With the closing of the mines, Hornfel understood that the dwarves’ only salvation was to rejoin the world, unseal the gates. Unfortunately, the Hylar themselves were divided on this, with some wanting to venture into the world and others maintaining that the world was a dangerous place, best to keep the gates shut.

  The Neidar were the only clan who might have, long ago, challenged the Hylar for ascendancy in Thorbardin, but the Neidar’s restles
s nature found the caverns beneath the mountain too cramped and small for their liking. Long before the Cataclysm, the Neidar had left Thorbardin to travel the world, hiring out as craftsmen, farming the land, raising crops, and tending the beasts that could not live in the perpetual darkness beneath the mountain. The Neidar and the other clans had remained on good terms with each other, until the Cataclysm struck and the world changed forever.

  As famine and plague stalked the mountain kingdom, the High King, Duncan, believed the Neidar could survive on their own, and he made the agonizing decision to shut the gates. The Neidar were furious. They, too, faced starvation and sickness, and worse, they were being attacked by goblins, ogres and desperate humans. They broke with the dwarves beneath the mountain and went to war against them with disastrous results. The Neidar still claimed a seat on the Council, though the seat had been empty for centuries.

  The Klar were an afflicted people, whispered by some to have been cursed by Reorx when a Klar was caught trying to cheat the god at a game of bones. A streak of madness ran through the clan. Every Klar family had at least one member who was either wholly or partially insane. The Klar tended to keep to themselves, therefore, and this suited them well, for they were skilled in handling the tunnel-digging Urkhan worms and in tending the farms and herding beasts. The Hylar considered themselves protectors of the Klar, who in turn pledged to support the Hylar in everything they did.

  If the Klar were cursed by Reorx, the Daewar were the beloved of Reorx—or so the Daewar maintained. With a tendency to fanaticism in any of their chosen pursuits, the Daewar saw themselves as the chosen of the god and many of their clan became clerics dedicated to Reorx. They built grand temples with rich furnishings. Daewar priests charged high fees for their services and used this money to build even grander temples.

  When the gods left the world, the Daewar were crushed and bewildered. Some of their people, true clerics, vanished at this time. Those who remained no longer had any power to heal the plagues that swept through the realm or cast nurturing spells on the crops. The other dwarves began to blame their misery on the Daewar and attacked their temples. Fearing their beautiful temples would be destroyed, the Daewar desperately maintained that Reorx and the other gods were still around; they were just keeping to themselves.

  The Daewar priests went about their daily routines, keeping the fires burning in the temples of Reorx, begging for him to hear their prayers and in some instances, creating their own “miracles” to try to prove he had answered. The fierce Daewar soldiers—as fanatical in battle as their clerics were in their beliefs—saw to it that other clans kept out of their kingdom.

  As time passed, all but the most fanatical ceased to believe in the gods. Some turned to cults that worshipped everything from a sacred albino rat to an unusual rock formation. Many Daewar went in for soldiering, and the Daewar had the best-trained, fiercest, and most dedicated fighting force beneath the mountain.

  Though superb warriors, the Daewar were not particularly intelligent or creative. “Their beards grew into their brains,” as the saying went.

  The Daergar were an offshoot of the Theiwar clan and were still considered “dark” dwarves by their cousins. The Daergar were accused of having conspired against the Hylar during the Dwarfgate Wars and were banished by King Duncan to the deepest parts of the mountain. This was not a great hardship on the Daergar, for they had long been miners by trade, skilled at finding and digging out the valuable ore, be it iron, gold, or silver.

  The loss of the mining revenues hit the Daergar hard, and the Daergar had sunk into squalor and degradation. Thugs and gangs ruled the streets of their realm, as the poverty-stricken dwarves scrounged a living by any means they could, most often dishonest.

  The Daergar blamed the Hylar for their trouble, believing the closing of the mines was a plot to destroy them. The Hylar Thane, Hornfel, feared the Daergar and Theiwar were planning to join together with the intent of overthrowing the Council and seizing control of Thorbardin. Hornfel was doing his best to try to be conciliatory to both, with the unfortunate result that he had made himself appear weak.

  As it turned out, Hornfel was already too late. The Theiwar and the Daergar weren’t planning to ally. They had already done so, and they’d found powerful new friends to assist them in their cause.

  The Aghar, known as gully dwarves, also held a seat on the Council, to the general mystification of the rest of Krynn. Universally reviled, woefully ignorant, and notorious cowards, gully dwarves were not even true dwarves—at least so the dwarves had always claimed. Gully dwarves were said to have gnome blood in them. (Gnomes, of course, dispute this.) As to the reason why the Aghar had been given a seat on the Council, this dates back to the very early days when Thorbardin was in the process of being built.

  At that time, the Theiwar were the leading clan of mountain dwarves. They could see, however, that the Hylar were gaining in power and the Theiwar wanted to insure they would maintain a majority on the Council. Having long terrorized and intimidated the gully dwarves, the Theiwar believed they could continue to coerce them and force them to support any measure they proposed. The Theiwar insisted that the Aghar be given a seat and full voting privileges on the Council.

  The Hylar saw through the Theiwar’s scheme and tried to prevent it, but the Theiwar cleverly put it out that if the Aghar were banned from the Council, other clans would be next to go. This enraged the hotheaded Daergar and frightened the insecure Klar. The Hylar had no choice but to give in and thus, though the gully dwarves had no city beneath the mountain, but infested all parts of it like the rats that were the staple of their diet, they were awarded a seat on the Council. Unfortunately for the Theiwar, the gully dwarves ended up supporting the Hylar cause more often than not, simply because the Hylar felt sorry for them and were good to them (at least by gully dwarf standards).

  The eighth seat was held by the Kingdom of the Dead. The dwarves revered their ancestors, and although this seat was always vacant, the dwarves felt strongly that their dead were an integral part of dwarven life and should not be forgotten.

  The ninth seat was for the High King, one of their own as chosen by the Council. This seat was also vacant and had been so for three hundred years. According to Arman Kharas, there could be no High King unless the Hammer of Kharas was found. This, perhaps, was just an excuse. There had been High Kings in times before the Hammer. Given the current state of unrest, no clan was currently strong enough to claim the kingship. One Thane was positioning himself to remedy this situation.

  Realgar of the Theiwar was an extremely dangerous dwarf, far more dangerous than anyone suspected. This had partly to do with his appearance, for he was scrawny and under-sized. His family had been among the poorest of the poor, to the point where they envied gully dwarves. Hunger had stunted his growth, but it had also sharpened his mind.

  He had escaped poverty by selling himself to a Theiwar warlock, performing various degrading acts for the warlock, including robbery and murder. In between beatings, Realgar eagerly picked up what scraps of spell-casting knowledge the warlock let fall. Clever and cunning, Realgar soon became more skilled in dark magic than his master. He took his revenge upon the warlock, moved into his late master’s dwelling, and worked hard to become the most feared and consequently the most powerful dwarf in the Theiwar realm. He declared himself Thane, but he was not content with that. Realgar was determined to be crowned High King. Once more, the Theiwar would rule beneath the mountain.

  He had no way to accomplish this lofty goal, however. The Theiwar were not skilled warriors. They knew nothing of discipline and could never be made to band together in a cohesive fighting unit. Nor could the self-serving Theiwar fathom the concept of sacrificing one’s life for a cause. The Theiwar were further handicapped by their inability to tolerate light. Shine a light in their eyes, and they were essentially blind.

  The Theiwar were good at stabbing people in the back, using their dark magic against enemies, kidnapping, and thievin
g. While such skills were useful in helping the Theiwar survive and maintain control over their own realm, they would never defeat the powerful Hylar or the fierce Daewar. It seemed that the Theiwar must live beneath the boot heel of the detested Hornfel forever.

  Realgar brooded over the ruin of his ambition for years, until at last his whining reached the ears of one who was seeking out dark and discontented souls. Takhisis, Queen of Darkness, came to Realgar and he prostrated himself before her. Takhisis offered to help Realgar achieve his goal in return for a few favors. The favors were not difficult to perform and actually benefited the Theiwar. Realgar had no problems keeping his end of the bargain, and thus far Takhisis had kept hers.

  Realgar had approached the Thane of the Daergar, a dwarf known as Rance, and made him a proposition. Realgar had found a buyer for the iron ore in the closed Daergar mines. He wanted a few of mines, those that were hidden deep within the labyrinthine caverns of the Daergar realm, to reopen. The miners would go back to work, but they would do so in secret.

  In return for this and for a promised share in the power when Realgar should become High King, Rance promised to build a secret tunnel through the mountains leading to Pax Tharkas, currently under the rulership of the Dragon Highlord, Verminaard. All this had to be done without the knowledge of any of the other Thanes.

  Rance was a large dwarf of no particular intelligence who had become Thane because his gang of thugs was currently the gang in power. He didn’t care much who was High King, so long as he received a cut of the profits. Accordingly, he built the secret tunnels that led to Pax Tharkas. Unknown to Hornfel, Realgar and Rance were the first to open the gates of Thorbardin, and the first person to enter was the Dragon Highlord Verminaard.

  The deal was finalized. In return for sending in an army of draconians to help defeat the Hylar, the Theiwar and Daergar agreed to sell iron ore to Pax Tharkas, along with swords and maces, battle hammers and axes, steel arrow- and spear-heads. All this came at a fortunate time for Lord Verminaard, though he did not live to realize it.

 

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