The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,225

a different place.

“It’s the truth! He let us have three visits. After that a destruction spell will be set off in the chamber,” Vot said quickly.

“What is he going to do exactly in the north?”

“Lay waste to the älfar realm for attacking him. What else?”

“Yes, and what else?” Ireheart imitated the famulus. “I do that every orbit: I get up, I shovel stuff, then I fill in the Black Abyss with my bare hands and then I do a little bit of destruction just to keep my hand in.”

Vot snorted with derision. “Lot-Ionan is powerful enough to turn whole swathes of land to desert. He has learned to take up enormous amounts of magic energy. The älfar will soon be feeling the results.”

“There’s another magic source there,” Ireheart told Tungdil. “It seems Lot-Ionan wants to spread out his sphere of influence to the other side of Girdlegard.”

“He will see that neither the kordrion nor the Dragon exist. The älfar have been wiped out—and he can take over as undisputed ruler of Girdlegard,” Tungdil continued the line of thought.

“So we might just as well have waited in comfort with Aiphatòn,” sighed Slîn. “He would have come to us.”

“Then we wouldn’t have found the ax.” Balyndar lifted Keenfire. “It will serve us well.”

“Off to the north, then.” Rodario studied his worn-out boots. “But this time let’s get some horses so we don’t have to do the whole thing on foot.”

Troublemaker shouted a warning and drew his weapon.

The group sprang away from the entrance, abandoning Vot to his pool of blood.

“Confound it!” Ireheart saw an approaching horde of älfar stumble into the throne room from the side entrance they had been intending to leave by. Congealing black blood dripped out of their mouths and noses and many of them were swaying as they walked; when they raised their weapons to confront the group of humans and dwarves they gave the impression of being extremely weak. The poison had not killed them yet but it was winning.

Älfar were streaming in through the second door as well, and leading them—was Aiphatòn. As he passed he stabbed Vot with his spear, hoisted the corpse up for all to see and made a short speech.

Mallenia interpreted. “He says the sorcerer that put the curse on them has now been killed and that they will soon recover. To get free of the spell they need to find Lot-Ionan. The…” she searched for the right word “… dwarves—that’s you—aren’t worth expending any time and effort on. The magus must be found; that is the most important thing.”

One of the älfar stepped forward to speak to Aiphatòn.

“He thinks they ought to kill us first. He recognized Keenfire and is afraid we will make trouble. He thinks we probably know how to activate hidden traps from the old dwarf-times, installed to deter invaders.” Mallenia continued to pay attention. “If I’ve got this right, the älfar we see here are the last of the whole contingent.”

Hmm, difficult. Ireheart was already doing some rough calculations in his head and arrived at three hundred adversaries in total. In normal circumstances he would hardly have thought they had a chance. But their maga was newly refreshed with magic, Tungdil was a dangerous force to be reckoned with, and Balyndar had Keenfire, so the battle might be more of a competition to see which of them killed the highest number. He was the one with the worst outlook. “I’ll take Aiphatòn,” he whispered to Tungdil.

“You will wait.” Tungdil told Coïra to hold a defense spell in readiness in case a shower of arrows came their way.

Mallenia insisted they let her listen. “The emperor is rejecting the suggestion. He says they can take us on after the gate has been opened. First of all they need to search for the magus.”

“He’s obviously trying to protect us,” said a relieved Rodario. Like Mallenia, he too had drawn his sword.

“I don’t think he will succeed. And he doesn’t need to.” Tungdil sprang up the steps to the ruined throne, brandished Bloodthirster and called out.

“Do I want to know what he’s saying?” Rodario sighed.

“Well, I do.” Ireheart grinned in joyful anticipation. “He’ll finish off the black-eyes! They’ll be eliminated from the mountains, as is only right. We’ll do it, us dwarves!” He smiled grimly. “Vraccas, what a glorious orbit this will be!”

“Tungdil’s telling them it was him who brought the curse down on them and that they must take his life if they want to break the spell.”

A roar went