"My name is Balyndis Steelfinger of the clan of the Steel Fingers," she told them, not in the least bit intimidated. "I'm in charge of these gates, and I make no apology for vetting our visitors before I let them in."
IV
Borengar's Folk, Firstling Kingdom, Girdlegard, Winter, 6234th Solar Cycle It's a woman," said Bavragor, clearly nonplussed.
"Oh, well spotted, Master Hammerfist," she teased smilingly. "What sharp eyes, I mean, eye, you have!" Turning to her guards, she gave orders for the injured Boлndal to be taken care of. Four firstlings shouldered the shield and carried it like a stretcher to the next set of gates. After waiting for Tungdil to nod his assent, Boпndil hurried after them.
"The rest of you come with me. Her Majesty will be waiting in the great hall." The guardswoman looked Tungdil up and down curiously, then turned and led the way. No sooner had Tungdil warned her about the дlfar than she instructed a group of warriors to take up position by the trebuchets and ballistae on the third rampart.
"What prompted you to build the defenses?" he asked.
"Many cycles ago we had a problem with trolls. Tion tried to sneak them in through the back entrance. Our forefathers built the walls to keep them at bay and eventually the beasts were defeated." She glanced up at the sentry, who gave the all clear. "Looks like the дlfar have retreated. Why were they following you?"
"That's something I'll have to discuss with your queen," said Tungdil, lowering his eyes to avoid her probing stare.
"A dwarven queen!" exclaimed Rodario. "I wonder how the women came to wear the breeches." He sighed. "If only my blasted ink hadn't frozen. I'm never going to remember it all. Was it a female revolution?"
Balyndis laughed. "A revolution? No, it's all very peaceable here. I thought men and women always shared the work."
Djerun had stopped carrying Andфkai and was stumbling at the back of the group. On reaching the final set of gates, he came to a halt and leaned against the wall.
He's badly hurt, thought Tungdil in alarm. In a way, he felt responsible because the giant had sustained his original injury in Sovereignston while fighting on his behalf.
"It's not far now," the guardswoman reassured them. "I'll send for our healers as soon as we're inside." It didn't seem to occur to her that Djerun was far taller than any ordinary man.
"That won't be necessary," Andфkai said quickly. "You go ahead, and I'll see to his injuries. He's too far gone for a physician; only my art can save him." The giant slid down the wall and slumped into the snow. Andфkai knelt beside him. She was exhausted from her confrontation with the дlfar, but she summoned the last of her strength. "We'll catch up with you," she said sharply. "Just go!" Her companions complied.
So this is the firstling kingdom. Tungdil gazed up at the mountain's red flanks. Hewn into the lower slopes was a stronghold with nine giddy towers. The architectural style was different from that of Ogre's Death, the lines more flowing and not as angular and severe, although the building was similarly sturdy. Curiously, Borengar's masons had dispensed with ornamentation altogether.
Abandoning their ponies, they made their way onto a wooden platform at the base of a tower. "Try to keep still. It'll probably feel a bit funny at first." Balyndis threw back a lever and up they shot, racing toward the top of the tower, past a narrow spiral staircase that led up to the battlements.
On the way up, Tungdil heard the rattle of chains uncoiling and scraping over metal. Some kind of pulley system, but for passengers, not supplies. "You don't like stairs, then?"
The guardswoman smiled, and Tungdil thought she looked awfully pretty. "It's less effort like this," she said.
They drew level with the top of the tallest tower and walked out onto a parapet that led toward the main entrance via a single-span arch bridge.
On either side of the walkway was a two-hundred-pace drop. Crows and jackdaws circled overhead and the chill wind blew stronger than ever. Narmora kept a hand on her head scarf to stop it from flying away.
The vast gates, ten paces wide and fifteen paces high, remained closed as they approached. Instead, Balyndis led them into the great hall via a separate door.
Bavragor glanced around and smiled smugly. "Just as I thought…" He didn't have to elaborate: His assessment of the masonry was sufficiently clear.
The stronghold made little impression on the master mason, but Furgas, Narmora, and Rodario were blown away.
"You hear stories about vast halls hewn into the mountain, but I never thought they were true," said Furgas, lowering his voice to a reverential whisper.
"We'll have to build a new theater," the impresario told him. "A bigger stage will give the audience a better sense of the splendor." He reached out to touch the stone. "It's real, all right. I almost suspected it was cardboard. Ye gods, it's incredible, nay, miraculous/"
The copper statues and bronze friezes proved popular, especially with the dwarves, who delighted in their intricacy. The artwork commemorated battles against Tion's minions, immortalizing great firstling warriors such as Borengar, founding father of the kingdom, and other great heroes and heroines of his folk.
"This way," called their guide, hurrying ahead of the dawdling group toward the next of the kingdom's wonders, a series of breathtaking bridges.
This time Bavragor was forced to admit that in matters of engineering, the firstlings were unsurpassed. There was insufficient rock to span the plummeting chasms, so gleaming plates of metal had been added to straddle the gaps, the sides secured with wrought-iron balustrades tipped with silver.
When they came to the last of the bridges, their hobnailed boots rang out against the metal, each plate creating a different tone. The notes echoed through the cavernous passageway in a simple but pleasing tune.
"I give in," said Rodario, overwhelmed by the magnificence of it all. "We'll go back to performing idiotic farces and forget the whole idea. No illusion in the world could do justice to this."
"Nonsense," Furgas said briskly. "We can do it, but it'll cost a bit of coin."
They slowly began to thaw out, the snow and ice melting from their garments and running down their mail, leaving them feeling immensely tired but warm.
At length Balyndis came to a halt and knocked on a vast door. A shaft of gold shone through the crack, heralding the glories within.
The rectangular chamber was clad from top to bottom in beaten gold. Warm light emanated from countless candles and lamps, reflecting off the burnished walls. The statues were cast from gold, silver, vraccasium, and rare precious metals quarried from the heart of the mountain. Each gleaming figure was draped with trinkets that could be swapped around at will.
The queen was seated twenty paces away on a throne of pure steel. Guards of both sexes, all dressed in gold-plated mail, watched over her. The ceiling sparkled with ornate mosaics made of beaten silver, gold, and vraccasium tiles.
"Did I say a bit of coin?" Furgas whispered to Rodario. "I meant, a lot."
"Borengar's folk welcomes you," the queen said benevolently, signaling for them to approach.
They filed into the hall, with Tungdil at the head of the procession. He bowed courteously, then sank to one knee. The other dwarves followed, but the players contented themselves with a bow. Tungdil introduced them, not forgetting Andфkai, Djerun, and the absent twins.
"As for me," he concluded, hoping that his speech conformed to protocol, "I'm Tungdil Goldhand of Goпmdil's folk. A matter of grave importance brings us to your court."
"Thank you, Tungdil Goldhand. My name is Xamtys Stubbornstreak the Second of the clan of the Stubborn Streaks, ruler of the Red Range for thirty-two cycles. Your visit intrigues me. I have been without news of my royal cousins and their kingdoms for a good long while." Her mail was made of golden rings and she carried a four-pronged mace as a scepter. Her brown eyes regarded them keenly but kindly.