The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,91

emptied his tankard—the seventh, if Ireheart had not lost count: A considerable amount for a dwarf who had not eaten anything much. Heroic achievement. “Did their limbs change color? Perhaps the tips of their fingers? What about their tongues?”

Balyndis and her son exchanged glances.

“I didn’t tell him,” said Balyndar. “Nobody knows.”

Tungdil shot him a dangerous smile. “I don’t need to be told. I worked it out for myself.” He summoned a fresh tankard. “It’s not a curse. It’s an odorless gas.”

Balyndar rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not! We ruled that out.”

“The methods for investigating the conventional humors exuded by the mountain are useless with this problem, Balyndar. It’s the kordrion. In countless ways it’s been responsible for the deaths in the Gray Range. It doesn’t just eat those who confront it. Its excrement is lethal as well, causing the painful death Balyndis has just described as soon as it meets water.” He took the map in his hand. “Ireheart told me that the kordrion is in the northern part of the Gray Mountains, near the Stone Gateway. That’s your explanation: Rainwater washes the excrement down the slopes and it runs into the rivers that feed the canals, being washed down to the parts of the mountain where the so-called fever turns up.”

“Even its shit is murderous?” exclaimed Ireheart in disbelief. “That’s what I call a really devious monster! Good thing we’re going to get rid of him.”

“We aren’t going to. It will be Lot-Ionan.” He put the next full tankard to his lips and took a long draft. “I think it will take a cycle or two until the toxic effect fades away so that you can return to those regions.” He saw that Balyndar did not believe him. “It is something to do with alchemy, Steelfinger,” he explained. “I grew up in the house and laboratories of a magus. The composition of the kordrion’s excrement is unique; if you like, a kind of dried acid. As soon as it comes into contact with water, the substances mix and a lethal gas is released. I used this several times on the other side of the Black Abyss if a siege wasn’t going well.” He finished his drink. “I don’t give your sick dwarves much of a chance. The lungs won’t recover from the acid burns. They’re for the eternal smithy.”

“I believe you,” said Balyndis, pale now. She indicated where the kordrion was thought to have its eyrie. “Vraccas was good to us and we have always been able to destroy the soft eggs before they hatch. Our scouts report, though, that it’s back in the nest and that the kordrion has learned to keep supplies. If we are out of luck it won’t have to leave the clutch of eggs to get food. That was always our opportunity to make a move.”

“We’ll think up a suitable diversion,” Ireheart said confidently. “Right, Scholar: We go to the nest, grab the eggs and run off through the Gray Range all the way to the entrance to Gauragar?”

“No. We must go over the summits, so that it can follow our tracks. I’ve worked out a route.”

Balyndar’s eyes widened. “In winter? Are you out of your mind?” After a pause he added, “High King.”

Without hesitating, Tungdil recited the names of the summits they would have to cross, specifying places they would rest. “Does that still sound like madness to you,” he asked cuttingly, “or more like a demanding but achievable journey?”

Balyndis nodded. “I’m amazed how much you still remember about my homeland, when there are so many other things you have forgotten.” It was a snide remark, but one she couldn’t resist making. “It seems your mind has concentrated on the scholarly side of your nature and eliminated all feeling. Is that how it is, High King?”

Tungdil turned his brown eye toward her. “That may indeed be so, Queen Balyndis. But it will help us and Girdlegard. I shan’t be complaining.”

“Nor me,” announced Ireheart, still digesting the details of his friend’s strategy. Throughout the whole of the journey so far he had not once seen Tungdil consult a map. His knowledge must be vast. “I suggest we set off as soon as possible before the wretched things hatch out.” “Tomorrow. As soon as the sun is up,” said Tungdil, getting to his feet. “I would like to rest. Queen Balyndis, be good enough to have me shown to my chambers. And tomorrow my ponies must be fresh and ready. And we’ll need provisions. Please