The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,173

to rest.

She stepped into the lift to go up to the tower to survey the scene of conflict. She had not lied to them. The mission had won the defenders valuable time and the knowledge that, without outside support, they would never be able to vanquish their opponents’ magus.

Her gaze swept over the barrier, now obscured under clouds of smoke. In spite of all their losses she remained convinced that they had scored a victory over the monsters; albeit a two-edged victory.

We shall have to wait until the summer, Vraccas, she said in prayer. Her hand felt for the diamond fragments and found only four, together with a great deal of dust. The last ones…

XXI

Girdlegard,

Former Queendom of Rân Ribastur,

Former Northwestern Border,

Spring, 6492nd Solar Cycle

The air was cool and fresh but the sun was doing its best to warm the travelers. The tender golden rays shimmered through the canopy of dense foliage above their heads. There was a scent of nature reawakening and the first flowers were in bloom.

They were not riding particularly fast, not wanting to arrive in the Blue Mountains before Aiphatòn and his älfar. Tungdil and Ireheart were at the head of the column, then some of the Zhadár and Barskalín, and, in the middle, Slîn and Balyndar, with the remainder of the Invisibles bringing up the rear.

“Our messages will all have been delivered by now.” Ireheart blinked in the sunlight. “I wonder what Goda thinks? What will she say to our successes?”

“It won’t make any difference,” Tungdil hazarded. “She’ll still have her doubts about me? Unlike you. And I can’t blame her. In her place I’d be even more suspicious now. The victories only prove to her how evil I must be,” he laughed. “The älfar and myself, then the Black Squadron and the Zhadár as my new allies—a whole collection of bad lads.” This sounded like the old Scholar now.

If you only knew what I was thinking about. Ireheart hoped that his friend was not able to read his mind, because such thoughts had been exactly what had been going through it. Add to that those black lines on Tungdil’s face and the inexplicable changes in his eye. He had to force himself to join in the laughter. “Yes, it’s a troop Nôd’onn would have given his eye-teeth for. In the old days.”

“A very long time ago.” Tungdil cast a quick look back over his shoulder. “Everything’s going our way, and some things were just handed to us on a silver plate.”

“I wonder if we’ll catch sight of the firstlings. May Vraccas make sure they find our message quickly.” Ireheart relaxed his grip on his pony’s reins and it trotted contentedly along. “The points are set now, like for the old mountain tunnel trains. I’d be a whole lot happier traveling in one of them, too.”

“That would be fine, perfect if you’re good at breathing underwater!”

“Elria could hardly have thought up a better way to punish us dwarves, could she? To get all of Weyurn’s lakes to drain down into our tunnel complex.” Ireheart looked ahead to where their road left the woods and led through the meadows. “We’ve still not seen a single human. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“Did you hear the stories Rodario was telling us about Rân Ribastur?” Tungdil grinned and, as always at such moments, Ireheart felt so happy to be at his side. As it had been in the old, old orbits… the feeling was comforting. “Magic animals, which the famuli set upon each other; a spell put on great swathes of the land; and nature drawing the traveler to his doom.” Tungdil tapped his armor for good luck. “I’m all right as long as I’ve got my armor.”

Has he ever taken it off? At any time during the whole journey? Ireheart tried to remember when he had seen Tungdil without his coat of armor. Certainly not during the journey to Lot-Ionan. But he didn’t seem to stink, he didn’t complain, he—didn’t sleep?

Hoofbeats approached and the fair-haired Ido girl came up to Tungdil’s side. “Excuse me for interrupting but I must tell you this,” she said directly. “I must speak to you, Goldhand.”

“Whatever you have to say to me Ireheart can hear, too,” said the one-eyed dwarf, and Boïndil took it as further confirm ation that they were dealing with the genuine Tungdil Goldhand.

Mallenia nodded. “It’s about the queen. You should know that she has hardly any magic power left.”

Aha. It was all going so nicely till now. Ireheart’s eyebrows