The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,101

take the kordrion’s young off to Lohasbrand… perhaps it’s a bunch of mini orcs we’re on the trail of? The Dragon’s bred them specially small so they can use our tunnels and narrow mountain paths? The long-uns, of course, used to breed tiny dogs for going down badger setts and foxholes. Why shouldn’t it work with orcs?”

“It’s worrying, the things you come up with sometimes,” said Balyndar, surveying the plain. “What would the Dragon want with the cocoons?”

“How should I know? To break the kordrion’s will and enforce his loyalty?”

The fifthling tutted, not even bothering to respond to that. “If we head out across the plain the enemy will be able to see us coming. Shall we hug the cliffs?”

“We’ve not a grain in the hour-glass to lose. Straight across,” ordered Tungdil, setting off. Ireheart followed him at once. “What about my theory, Scholar?” he urged, with the eagerness of a young child. “Seems obvious to me.”

“Possible but not probable,” replied Tungdil. “Perhaps the firstlings had the same idea as us and sent out a scouting party.”

“Playing the monsters off against each other to free themselves from the Dragon’s clutches and destroy the kordrion, who’ll have been weakened from the fighting?” Ireheart had a good long think. “Could be. But it’s pretty odd they’re putting the idea into practice at the same time as us.” The more he considered it, the less he liked his own theory. “Nonsense. They would have gone to see Balyndis and asked for permission and support for the expedition. That’s what you do if you’re on someone else’s territory.”

Suddenly Tungdil stood stock still. “Ireheart, Balyndar, Slîn,” he whispered. “Come with me. The rest of you keep going to the other side of the plain and wait for our signal.” He hurried off, bent low, going toward a cleft in the rocks that Ireheart and the others hadn’t noticed.

“It’s a bit of a miracle the way he finds things,” said Slîn. “I wouldn’t have seen that till I’d walked into it.”

“Vraccas has a soft spot for our Scholar,” laughed Boïndil. “It’s always been like that as long as I’ve known him.” Nothing’s changed.

The little band stepped cautiously into the cleft in the rock; it was dark but the air smelled fresh, not stale.

“A tunnel,” whispered Boïndil.

“They probably won’t have come upon it purely by chance. Whoever destroyed the nest and stole the cocoons—it’s been a long time in the planning.” Tungdil led them along a sloping passage. They found crudely hewn steps leading further down.

From below they heard muffled voices.

“We’ve got them,” whispered Ireheart, full of anticipation. “Let me go in first, Scholar! I’ll finish them all off! No one will escape me in these narrow…”

“Pull yourself together,” hissed Tungdil.

“Go on, let him,” said Slîn softly. “It’s fine with me…”

At that very moment the kordrion’s screeching roar was heard outside! Wind shot through the tunnel, leaving them standing in whirling snowflakes.

Boïndil shuddered and remained motionless for a second before coming to his senses. He thought at once of the others in his party, who would be left facing the kordrion on the plain. “May Vraccas be with them!” he prayed. “Let them find shelter before it gets to them. We need every man jack of them if we are to free Girdlegard.” He was about to put in his wax earplugs and go over to Tungdil, but his friend was already heading down the steps. There was no time to give support or employ caution. The kordrion young had priority.

The steps were old, crumbling away in places under their feet. Slîn lost his balance and was only saved by Balyndar’s presence of mind; otherwise he would have tumbled head first down the stairs.

“Shouldn’t we go back to help the others,” asked the fifthling. “They’ll be killed…”

“And so will we if we move out into the open without the cocoon,” interjected Tungdil. “And anyway, to the kordrion Ireheart smells like his offspring’s murderer. We’re no use if we fall in battle—the only ones to benefit would be our enemies. They will have to look to their own devices.”

Finally they reached the ground level and the passage became wider. They fanned out, with Tungdil and Ireheart in the first row, followed by Balyndar and Slîn.

“This leads due east,” said Ireheart. “Our forefathers will have made the tunnel because they knew the high passes would not always be free.”

Tungdil stopped abruptly and Slîn cannoned into him.

A loud and furious laugh swept through the passage. “They’re sending out their heroes