Masters of Stone and Steel - Gav Thorpe & Nick Kyme

by Warhammer

  The wolf lunged, snapping teeth. Haldora reacted slowly, bringing up her axe. Its mouth closed on her shoulder. Fangs cracked against the mail beneath her overshirt, the weight of the wolf barrelling her back. Taking quick steps to stay on her feet, Haldora smashed the butt of the axe handle into the wolf’s eye.

  Between the pain of biting her coat of iron rings and receiving a sharp blow to the eye, the wolf let go with a yelp. Haldora swung her axe again, powered by rising fear. The axe missed the wolf but it lodged into the leg of the goblin as it struggled to maintain its mounted position, one hand knotted into the fur of the wolf’s back. Black blood sprayed and the goblin’s cry joined the wolf’s yapping protest.

  Haldora backed away, wetted axe in hand. She heard panting, snarls and harsh tittering in the night around her and looked left and right to see more shadows closing in, almost silent in the darkness. Something parted the air close by, whispering as it passed. She found herself next to the body of the sentry again. This time she saw the black-shafted arrow sticking out of the side of his throat and another in his gut, his tunic soaked with blood. The whistle of more arrows seemed disturbingly close.

  He looked dead but Haldora had to check. She could feel no pulse so she fumbled at the strap of the sentry’s horn, trying to pull it out from under him. With a last effort, sprained wrist sending sharp pulses of pain up her arm, Haldora wrenched the horn clear and fell backwards.

  There were wolf riders everywhere, heading towards the camp. One of them was coming straight for her.

  Taking in a big lungful of air she brought the horn to her lips and blew.

  Nothing happened. She was not a trained hornblower and hadn’t realised there was a particular technique. The wolf and its rider were trotting towards her. The goblin’s spear was levelled and the wolf was gaining speed, ready for the charge.

  She tried the horn again but only managed something approximating one of Skraffi’s more genteel farts. The wolf broke into a run. Haldora watched, mesmerised at its muscles bunching and releasing under furred skin, while the goblin leaned forwards, face split with an evil grin.

  ‘Goblins! Attack!’ she shrieked. The wolf was only half a dozen strides from leaping on top of her. In desperation Haldora hurled the horn at the wolf, striking it squarely on the nose.

  The wolf flinched, giving Haldora just enough time to throw herself to one side. The goblin spear passed over her, slashing through grass, and she lashed out with her axe, cutting a hind foot from the wolf as it dashed past.

  Suddenly finding itself three-legged, the wolf became a tumbling heap of fur and goblin, its yowls of distress splitting the air. The goblin threw itself free from the beast as it dragged itself away through the grass. The greenskin took its spear in both hands and advanced on Haldora, malicious intent clear.

  Yelling again for all that she was worth, Haldora stumbled to her feet, axe in both hands. The goblin lunged and she swung, driving her axe at the goblin’s chest as though she was swinging a pick at a seam.

  The spear bit through leather and mail and dug into her shoulder, but not enough to stop the axe head burying up to the haft in the goblin’s ribs. Haldora was amazed by how light the scrawny creature was as the blow lifted the goblin from its feet. She almost lost her grip on the axe as the dead greenskin flopped to the ground in a broken heap.

  All around her the other wolf riders attacked. Snarls and howls split the air while horns were sounded from the camp. She could feel the ground trembling through her boots as a tide of mounted grobi charged through the long grass. Her wrist was throbbing frightfully and she could feel the blood from the wound in her shoulder trickling down into her armpit.

  Keeping low, hidden by the fronds of a bush, she rolled over to see the dwarfs confronting the onrushing greenskins, hammers, axes and crossbows providing an iron welcome to the raiders. Nakka was there at the front, hewing down goblin after goblin, two of his cousins to either side.

  He looked so brave and strong it made Haldora’s heart soar to watch it. She knew she was dizzy from the excitement, perhaps light-headed from blood loss, and part of her was ashamed at the lustful feelings, but most of her enjoyed the spectacle of Nakka lit by the campfires cutting down wolves and goblins as though hewing wood for a furnace.

  ‘Get up, you daft goat,’ she told herself. ‘Don’t just lie here being all love-eyed. Get up and help!’

  Despite such encouragement her body refused to pay attention. It was a little while longer before she responded, finally staggering to her feet, the effort sending fresh pain down through her injured shoulder and into her chest. Her left wrist was feeling a little better and she swapped her axe to that hand.

  The fighting had moved, the first thrust of the goblins turned aside thanks to her. They regrouped away to the west and attacked again, but their fresh assault met a determined circle of dwarfs gathered around the pair of campfires, their weapons ready, armour glinting.

  Haldora realised that she was very vulnerable, away from the press of the others, the raised shields that fended off snapping jaws and lashing spears, the crossbows that kept marauding wolf riders from encircling the group of dwarfs. If one of the goblins saw her, it would surely lead others.

  Feeling cowardly but ignoring her pride, she found a hummock of grass in which to hide, from which she could watch the proceedings and move if needed but which was otherwise very difficult to see. The raiders were intent upon the camp, attacking again and again until the first rays of light broke over the distant mountains.

  By silent consensus the wolf riders agreed that their opportunity had been missed and in the rising light decided to quit while they had some shadows to cling to. In the dawn light, shuddering from the shock of what had happened, Haldora stumbled back to the other dwarfs.

  There were several dozen dead wolves and riders around the camp, many slain by crossbow or slingshot, some by axe blow and hammer. The other dwarfs were tending to a few of their wounded while some of their number were picking up the limp bodies of the slain. Haldora counted six before she was amongst them.

  ‘Haldi!’ cried Nakka, elbowing his way out of the throng. He made to throw his arms around her but she stepped away, conscious of the pain in her shoulder and arm. He stepped back, concerned. ‘What happened? Where have you been?’

  Haldora gestured away from the camp with her head.

  ‘Out there? All night?’ Nakka shook his head in disbelief and took her by the left arm, leading her to the others. ‘Hangir will take a look at that shoulder in a moment. Draffik has a bad cut on his thigh that needs stitching first.’

  ‘My wrist,’ Haldora said, losing almost all sense of what was happening as the weight of what had passed during the night crowded into her thoughts. She held up her left hand, limply holding her axe. ‘I hurt my wrist too.’

  ‘Hangir will see to that too, no doubt.’ Nakka sat her down on a pack. ‘Rest and I’ll fetch you a brew. Glorri had a pot on before they attacked, must be just about ready by now.’

  ‘You’re cut,’ Haldora said, noticing a gash across Nakka’s left cheek as he turned towards the fire. He glanced back at her, raising a finger to the wound.

  ‘This? Wolf claw.’ He looked around at the dead animals and goblins and nodded towards one that had a yellowish tinge to its fur. ‘That fellow there. Going to make a nice cloak.’

  ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought…’ Haldora stood up. Nakka was immediately beside her, holding her arm.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘The sentry. I think it was Jollson.’ She pictured his dead face in the moonlight, splashed with blood.

  ‘We’ll fetch him back,’ said Nakka.

  ‘I’ll help. I don’t want anybody doing me favours, not on account of me being beardless.’

  ‘This ain’t about you being of the maidenly persuasion.’ He rubbed his forehead, a sign of exasperation, and looked meaningfully at her shoulder. ‘You’re injured!’

  ‘Right.’ She felt a bit foolish.


  ‘I best get on,’ said Nakka. She nodded and he started to walk away.

  ‘Nakka?’

  He stopped and looked back. ‘Aye?’

  ‘You were magnificent. In the fight, I mean.’

  ‘I was?’ He sounded and looked far too pleased with such a compliment, and then realised it. His grin faded and he tried to look dignified. ‘Nice of you to say so.’

  ‘There’s something I need from you.’ Haldora winced as she tried to reach out to him. ‘Something only you can do for me.’

  Nakka walked back, a bit of a swagger in his step. He glanced around and saw that there was nobody paying them any attention.

  ‘Is there now?’ he said, leaning close, voice low. ‘And what might that be?’

  ‘I need you to teach me how to fight. Properly, I mean.’

  ‘Oh.’ Nakka couldn’t hide his disappointment. It was as though every part of him sagged, including his beard. Then he realised what she was asking and his brow furrowed. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Pa showed me the basics, but he’s no warrior. He manned a catapult during the war. Skraffi’s experienced but I don’t think he has the energy for it anymore.’

  ‘Your father’s brave. Just because he was with the war machines doesn’t take away from that. Many’s the dwarf who gave his life besieging every one of them Grimnir-cursed elf cities.’

  ‘It’s not about his bravery, Nakka. But axeplay and hammercraft aren’t really in his repertoire of talents. If I wanted to know how much an axe cost I’d ask my father. If I want to know how to kill goblins and orcs with it, that’s your job. You seem very… deft with your hands.’

  ‘Aye, it’s a natural talent.’ Nakka spun his axe a couple of times and made a few pretend swings. ‘The Troggklad blood comes from Grimnir himself, didn’t you know?’

  ‘I’m sure it did. Will you? Will you help one of less blessed heritage?’

  ‘I don’t see why not, as long as your pa has no objections.’

  ‘What’s it got to do with him?’ Haldora’s outburst drew stares from some of the other dwarfs and she dropped her voice. ‘It’s not his business.’

  ‘It was hard enough convincing him to let you come on this expedition, and only then because he didn’t think there was going to be any trouble at all. If he thinks you’re going to start wanting to become a warrior through-and-through, more than just a bit of self-defence, he might not be too happy.’

  ‘All right. I’ll talk to him. If he says yes, will you do it? Will you teach me how to fight?’

  ‘I’ll do better than that, my fine maiden,’ Nakka said, pulling Haldora onto her feet. It hurt her shoulder but the pain was dulled by the happiness flowing from Haldora’s heart as Nakka drew her closer. ‘I’ll teach you how to win!’

  And that was when they shared their first kiss.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘Our ancestors drove the goblins north and west, taking the lower slopes for themselves. With timber from the low groves of trees they built the first stockades, but Grimbalki was a cannier thinker than his father and had two of the mingols taken down and the stones used to build a more secure fortress, where later the defences of Undak Grimgazan would be. Some of the mingols were later extended into Undak Khruthok and Undak Khazdok, but that was many years away yet.

  With stone towers and stockade in place, more of the king’s people came up from the foothills and they started exploring the southern mountains. The fortress grew and the area that was later called the Lower Gate was established.

  This small realm was called Ankor-Drakk.’

  Wood thudded against wood and the clash was lost on the wind. Haldora swung the training axe back and let fly once more, smashing the heavy weapon into Nakka’s upraised shield. Sweat dripped from the end of her nose and moistened her blue woollen dress. The sun had been relentless since they had come out to the secluded glade to continue their practice.

  ‘I can’t believe your father said yes,’ said Nakka, stepping back and holding up a hand to indicate they should take a break. ‘I really didn’t think he’d agree.’

  ‘I suppose he figured I would go ahead without him,’ lied Haldora. In fact she had not even raised the issue with Gabbik. Nakka was right, it was a foregone conclusion that her father would not permit her to take part in any further weapons training, in case it encouraged her to have even more outlandish fancies.

  ‘And that’s why we have to train out here, away from everyone, right?’ Nakka sounded dubious and Haldora was reminded that despite his bluff demeanour he was not a dull blade.

  ‘Folk will pry,’ she said, trying to sound offhand. ‘You know they love to poke about in my business. Better for pa and the clan name if nobody gets wind of it. And the fresh air is good.’

  ‘Blumming hot though,’ said Nakka. He put down the shield and wiped sweat from his brow with the hem of his tunic. He was bare-armed, showing off the muscles earned at the seam-face, and his beard was neatly plaited into a single braid to keep it out of the way. ‘And we’ll have to do some tunnel work sooner or later. That’s where goblins will be fighting.’

  ‘And the orcs? What about them?’

  ‘There aren’t any orcs. We saw that ourselves. Not a greenskin within days of Ekrund. No, it’ll not be orcs that we have to worry about.’

  ‘You’re worried?’ Haldora took up her fighting stance once more, wooden axe in both hands, elbows up and shoulders back. ‘About goblins?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Nakka, raising the shield again.

  He advanced slowly until he was within range. Haldora swung the axe, remembering to move at the waist, using the leverage of her arms to smash the head into the presented target. The shield rocked in Nakka’s grasp but he remained as solid as a granite pillar. She caught the shield again with the backswing, almost hooking it from his grasp.

  ‘Use your feet,’ he said. ‘You’re fighting goblins, not hewing coal. Get on the balls of your feet.’

  Haldora tried, but almost fell over as she leaned all of her weight into the next swing. She recovered and stepped back for another attempt. Suddenly the axe felt top-heavy and she was unbalanced, nearly toppling over as the head whistled past the shield.

  ‘On the balls of your feet, not on tiptoe!’ laughed Nakka. He dropped the shield and stepped forward, strong, calloused fingers closing around her hands where they gripped the axe haft.

  Nakka stepped back, dragging her with him. As she stepped to follow he moved the axe to the left and she felt the weight transferring from one leg to the other. He swayed and she swayed with him, pivoting slightly as he brought the axe low and then high. He pushed and she retreated, stepping back, guided by his hands to bring the axe across, head level with the ground.

  There was a beat and a rhythm to the movements that reminded Haldora of the dances in the ale halls. She grinned and moved with it, letting Nakka steer her hands, feeling the axe light in her grasp, almost a living thing.

  ‘Beautiful,’ she whispered as Nakka quickly stepped away, leaving her to continue on her own, circling around him as though courting at a dance, the axe cutting the air in front of her. Her tread felt as light as a feather on the soft grass.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he replied with a smile of his own.

  Nakka picked up the shield and interposed himself in front of her. Now when Haldora swung the axe she felt her whole body moving with it, following through with a step, using the weight of the swing and backstep to turn the blow into another attack, thudding the false axe head against the bottom of the shield with an upward cut.

  ‘Good,’ said Nakka. ‘A few more years’ practice and you might make a fine warrior.’

  ‘Years?’ Haldora almost tripped over her own feet, feeling a stab of disappointment in her chest. Suddenly the axe felt heavy again, her feet as though they were encased in blocks of iron. Her next swing was a wild slash that glanced against the boss of the shield, almost jarring the weapon from her fingers, sending a tremor of pain up into her elbow. />
  ‘You didn’t think you’d master everything in just a few sessions, did you?’

  ‘No,’ Haldora said with a pout. Maybe a dozen, she had thought. How difficult could axework be? ‘But you heard the decree of the king. He wants the outer defences manned for the time being. The Angboks are on the next rotation out to the south watchtowers.’

  ‘I know,’ said Nakka. ‘The Troggklads are with you too. What of it?’

  ‘What if I’m not ready by then?’

  ‘Ready for what?’

  ‘To fight, of course! What if the orcs attack when we’re on the watchtowers?’

  ‘There’ll be no attack, my precious diamond,’ said Nakka. ‘And certainly not against the towers. There aren’t any orcs out there, we would have seen them.’

  ‘So what happened to the rest of the refugees? They just got lost and disappeared? Barely a few dozen have arrived since the first wave. Thousands, they reckoned. Thousands. All gone.’

  ‘Confused and frightened folk, fleeing for their lives. They couldn’t be certain how many got out of Karak Varn. Maybe Barak Varr relented and took more in. Maybe they turned east towards Karak Eight Peaks. Who can say? Them wolf riders weren’t even strong enough to take on a scouting party. You reckon they could hunt down thousands of dwarfs?’

  ‘If they were tired and scattered, maybe,’ said Haldora. She sat down on a tree stump, letting the practice axe fall from her grasp. ‘I don’t want to think the worst. Poor Grammi Skraffi is near enough pulling his beard out, convinced the orcs are going to eat us all tomorrow. That’s just daft, but we should take precautions.’

  ‘And that’s what the king’s doing. Increased patrols. Manning the outer towers. What else should we do, Haldora? March to Karak Varn like Skraffi said?’ He laughed. ‘A fine pickle we would be in then. Skraffi is a fine dwarf, you know I know that, but he gets strange notions. Like this business with the mead. But he’s got all the stubbornness of his age and won’t back down. We could cross the wildlands and back and never see an orc and still he’d claim they was hiding somewhere, biding their time.’