He hemmed and hawed so much that Sunbright asked a neutral question to ease his mind, "What is this building?"
"Hunh? Oh, this." The war chief looked around and said, "We finally finished the common house. Just dropped other tasks and fell to until it was built. We've kept the council fire alive, too. It's the same one you started. We figured there'd be lots of…"
He scratched his white temples, scuffed his foot. "We've, uh, talked," Magichunger finally said. "For five days now. And the tribe's decided you aren't banished for using magic. Shamans use spirit magic anyway, and you needed that enchanted sword-That was some fierce battle, Sunbright! I've never seen its like! You two clashed like mammoths, like gods! And you wouldn't quit, even when she jabbed your-Uh, well, anyway… That was braver than I could be. And another thing. I want to, uh, thank you for bringing us here, and together…"
Sunbright raised a hand that quaked, for he was still weak. Bemused, Magichunger shook. The shaman said, "I did nothing but recall who we are. The tribe decided to come here, and together came to safety, with a great amount of your help. I thank you for that."
"Oh…" The war chief actually blushed. He said, "Bashing orcs in the head, that was nothing."
Sunbright asked for news, and the war chief gladly changed the subject. Refugees and raiders still drifted into the territory, but under control. Magichunger and Mightylaugh had arranged a warning system with Hilel's horse clan.
"Any decent folk we let stay, as long as they promise to work as hard as we do. Raiders we disarm and turn back. We've had to kill a few, but it's been pretty peaceful. More than the empire can boast. Stragglers tell us there's famine, and the One King's orcs are still raiding while the empire's army is splintered and looting. People in the floating cities squabble over who should run the empire so much they're assassinating each other. It's a mess."
"Yes, I know," Sunbright said. He had visited the future, had seen the ingrown shambles the empire would become, before Karsus finally destroyed it. "I've known for a while, and fear the empire's collapse might harm our people. That's why I must announce the rest of my plan."
"Plan?" Slow-thinking Magichunger frowned. "What plan? You're not going to meddle with tradition again, are you?"
"Yes and no," he said. Sunbright smiled at his oblique answer. He wasn't done fighting yet, not with the future at stake. "Hand me my sword, please?"
"Eh?" The war chief took Sunbright's scabbard from a peg on the wall and said, "Who will you bash now? I can't imagine a fair fight. This enchanted sword is a dragon killer!"
"True. Too much sword for me. Can you summon Drigor, please?"
A fuddled Magichunger left while Sunbright nodded off.
"What is it?" A gruff tone woke him. Drigor stood in his stained apron, gnarled hands bunched at his hips and said, "I hope this's important. With new folk streaming in and a mighty heap of weapons to turn into tools, I'm busy night and day."
Sunbright smiled at the crusty dwarf and said, "And you're happiest when busiest. So I've another task, if you will. Take my sword please. Take Harvester of Blood back to the forge."
"To the forge?" Drigor asked. Stunned, the dwarf propped the sword beside him, tall as himself. "What shall I do there?"
Slowly, Sunbright gave instructions. Before he finished, the dwarf was hopping in place, face red as an apoplectic fit. "Are you mad?" Drigor growled. "Stark, staring crazy? This sword is a legend! It's history! It's- it's never been done before, dwarves sharing secrets with elves to forge this-a blade fit for a king! An emperor! A conqueror!"
"But I'm none of those," Sunbright returned mildly. "Just a simple shaman trying to guide his people. And they won't listen unless they see me sacrifice as much as they do. Please, do it."
Grumbling, cursing, stamping pitchy boots, the dwarf dragged the sword as he stalked out. Over his shoulder he bawled, "I don't expect humans to make sensible decisions!"
"Neither do I."
Sunbright snuggled down to sleep in carefree warmth.
Three nights later, Sunbright was strong enough to leave the council hut.
"But mind," Monkberry warned, "there'll be a few surprises."
"Did everyone move away while I was asleep?" Sunbright joked.
He limped, stiff, bruised, raddled with scabs that itched and cracked, clumsy with one eye, and muzzy from a bandage swaddling his skull. Monkberry propped one side, Knucklebones the other. Then he jumped, startled.
For as Sunbright appeared at the lodge's door, a thunderous cheer exploded in the frosty winter sky. Humans, elves, and dwarves hooted, applauded, sang, hollered, and laughed. Sunbright just stared, stunned, while the cheering rang on and on. He shook his head like an old man chiding children, but with a smile.
Slowly, he was eased into a wicker chair at the council fire pit. Sunbright breathed slowly to clear his head, then looked around. Stretching into the darkness, hundreds of barbarians packed the hollow around the council ring. Salted amidst them were elves like bright green flowers, including Knucklebones's new family, and Drigor's dwarves, hunched like stones. There were many strangers, mostly humans, but also gnomes and even half-ogres, all refugees who'd found safety in this pacified pocket of a chaotic empire. Among them were Hilel's horse wranglers in wool shirts and leather trousers and caps.
When the crowd grew silent, Sunbright talked. He greeted many by name, thanked all for coming to council, and talked of the weather and how peaceful and beautiful the land looked from their hard work. The crowd strained to hear his weak voice. Finally, he got to his main point.
"My friends, I've bad news, but also a hope. We know the tundra is dying, and may be dead entirely. All the empire's lands suffer, and the most fragile die first. So we are banished from our ancestral hunting grounds, cut off from the old way of life. So my bad news is, we must change again."
A rustle shook the crowd, but a minor one. Everyone knew the truth. Their question was: What next?
Sunbright told them, "We've prospered here, on the edge of the forest that the elves graciously lent us. And the dwarves revel in the mountains, now almost clear of monsters and renegades. And, too, our ancestral prairie lands beckon, though they too suffer a shortage of game.
"Lacking the tundra, I propose we stay put for now: elves in the forest, dwarves in the mountains, barbarians on the plain. We work well together. Our mighty triangle can stave off threats from any direction in wartime. Peacetime will be even better. From this triangle, we can cross the plains to link with coastal towns and the Narrow Sea and the south, establish trade routes through the forest in the west, build bridges over the northern mountains. Everyone, every race, can benefit by the alliance, and everyone can eat well."
He let the words sink in. There were no objections, for already combined parties of humans, dwarves, and elves had spoken of building trading posts, arranging caravans, cutting roads and bridges. And Sunbright saw other alliances being formed, for the barbarian Blackblossom held the hand of elven Starvalley.
He went on, "But for our own, personal change. We Rengarth Barbarians cannot subsist on six miles of trees and a day's walk of grasslands. We'd scrimp all our lives just to eat, always be poorer cousins of prosperous ones around us. Yet if we can't trek the tundra after herds of reindeer, can't spear the seal through the ice, can't smoke the white bear from his cave, can't trap salmon in weirs, how shall we live? I've thought on this a long time, and have a proposal. I only ask you consider it. Drigor, the bag, please."