"Surely the king isn't abandoning his realm?"
"Bislipur!" Balendilнn whipped round toward the marble tablets. The traitor stepped out from behind one of them, the stone trinkets in his beard tinkling softly as he walked.
"I was hoping to meet you alone without any of your slavish attendants. It was tiresome of you to destroy the bridge. I was sorry to see it go." He raised his ax and drove it into one of the sacred tablets, cracking the stone and breaking it apart. "But patience is a virtue. The orcs will destroy your kingdom, just as I will put pay to your laws."
The king descended from the dais. "You can shatter the tablets, but the words will be carved again. You shan't destroy us, Bislipur. The children of the Smith stand united. Haven't you heard? The firstlings have come to our aid, and many of your allies have been slain by their axes."
"They're not allies; they work on my behalf. The orcs are only instruments of my revenge," Bislipur said calmly. He demolished the remains of the tablet. "Enjoy your little victory while you can. You'll never defeat Nфd'onn: He's dangerous in his insanity, and he's far too powerful for you." The second tablet shattered, splinters of polished stone striking the flagstones and scattering across the floor.
"Enough!" Balendilнn was at the foot of the dais and nearly upon the traitor. Without stopping he dropped the hammer and drew his ax from his belt. The fourthling was stronger, he knew, but his lameness made him slow and clumsy. "Tell me why."
"A fine duel this will be," laughed Bislipur. "Two cripples locked in combat."
"This isn't a battle of words," the king said grimly.
Bislipur smiled. "I guess the dwarves of Beroпn will have to find a new leader." His ax hurtled out of nowhere, but Balendilнn ducked, flinging out his arm and using his momentum to strike.
Cursing, Bislipur leaped back, but the metal spike on Balendilнn's ax head caught his unarmored calf, ripping through leather and fabric. Blood oozed from the wound.
"Why are you doing this?" Balendilнn demanded. "Is it because your favorite wasn't elected high king? Are you so obsessed with waging war on the elves that you betrayed your own kin? Is that it?"
Bislipur rushed forward and launched a series of feint attacks, but Balendilнn saw through them and drew back, steeling himself for the real assault. They had crossed the breadth of the vast hall and were battling along a passageway that led to a bridge. The ground was twenty or more paces beneath them.
"The succession never interested me," spat Bislipur. "My only desire was for war. The elves would have destroyed you."
He dealt the blow so forcefully that it was impossible to parry. At the last moment Balendilнn managed to deflect it, but he almost lost his ax.
"It makes no sense, Bislipur. Has Nфd'onn bewitched you? Why would you betray your folk?"
"My folk? The fourthlings aren't my folk! You were closer to the truth than you realized." His ax whistled through the air. Balendilнn blocked it, but the force of the blow numbed his hand.
"I'm too strong, too warlike to be a puny son of Goпmdil. Remember, you said so yourself." He struck again and this time the ax flew out of Balendilнn's fingers and clattered to the bridge. "I'm a child of Lorimbur, and I will go down in history as the thirdling who brought misery on the other dwarven folks," he said darkly. "I have succeeded where all others failed."
Balendilнn grabbed his arm and stopped the next blow, but the traitor head-butted him with his helmet. The king staggered backward, his vision starry and bloodied. Bislipur's cocky laughter rang in his ears.
"What a blow to you that Tungdil is a thirdling or he could have succeeded you on the throne. Oh, he'll weep when he sees the ruins of Ogre's Death. I've a good mind to stick around and ambush him. Killing him and his miserable company would give me pleasure."
"A thirdling? Never." It was all Balendilнn could do not to fall from the bridge.
"I know my kind when I see them. It's an instinct we've got. Trust me: Your protйgй is a thirdling, a dwarf killer. You may as well get used to the idea-before I kill you and feed your entrails to the orcs."
"You lie!" The king leaned back against the parapet, his legs giving way.
Smiling malevolently, Bislipur raised his ax. "What if I do? You're going to die anyway."
The blade swooped down but Balendilнn saw only a fleeting shadow. Underground Network, Kingdom of Tabaоn, Girdlegard, Winter, 6234tb Solar Cycle The sound of falling rock gave Tungdil just enough warning to pull on the brake. Even so, the force of the collision sufficed to throw the wagon from the rail and give its passengers a thorough shaking.
"The spirits need to work on their timing," said Bavragor, wiping the dust from his brow. He turned to Balyndis, who let him wipe her face. "I bet the ceiling was meant to collapse on us." He reached for his drinking pouch and took a sip of brandy.
"It's nothing to worry about." Rodario scowled, springing from the wagon. "Our industrious giant will clear away the debris and we'll soon be on our way." He glanced at Andфkai. "Unless, of course, the Estimable Maga would prefer to blast through the tunnel with one of her gusts." His tone was deliberately sniffy: He was still cross with the maga for spurning his advances in front of the group.
Goпmgar, pale with fear, kept his eyes suspiciously on the ceiling and refused to leave the safety of his seat. Meanwhile, Andфkai was already inspecting the blocked tunnel and giving instructions for the rubble to be cleared. It soon became apparent that the task was too much even for Djerun.
"By the look of things, the ceiling has gone entirely," said Bavragor, who was clambering over the fallen rock and studying the walls. "I'd say someone went to a lot of trouble to organize this."
Furgas hurried to take a closer look. He ran his hands over the rock, then nodded. "You're right. The roof of the tunnel is riddled with holes. Whoever it was wanted to make certain that the ceiling would collapse once the struts were knocked away."
"Ghosts," whispered Goпmgar tremulously. "We should have listened to their warning. They're trying to get us killed."
Boпndil turned on him fiercely. "I never thought I'd say this, but Hammerfist's drunken singing is a thousand times more bearable than your complaining." His inner furnace had been burning high for some time, and he needed to let off steam.
"Keep a check on yourself, Boпndil," Tungdil pleaded. "I know it's hard and it's been a long while, but you mustn't let your temper get the better of you." He rummaged through his knapsack and brought out Xamtys's map. "We have to turn back. There's an exit about a mile from here." He turned to Goпmgar. "The spirits have answered your prayers: We're going back to the surface."
"Whereabouts are we?" asked Andфkai.
"According to my calculations, we're in the southeastern corner of the kingdom of Tabaоn. It shouldn't be too much of a problem to find the next entrance. Tabaоn is dead flat; it's just one vast plain."
"It's not fair," Bavragor grumbled moodily. "Why should cowardly little Shimmerbeard get his way? All that blasted riding was bad enough. I'm not built for traipsing around overland, and I can't say I'm fond of the sun."
"You'll get used to it soon enough," snapped Boпndil. "If you'd taken your turn at the High Pass with the rest of us, you'd know that sunshine can be pleasantly warming."
"It wasn't worth the risk," Bavragor snapped back. "I didn't want to end up like my sister."
Balyndis stiffened. Sensing the sudden tension, she stepped in front of Bavragor to stop things from getting out of hand. He grabbed her arm and pushed her away.
"Be careful," he warned her. "Don't turn your back on him when he's angry. His ax moves faster than his mind."
The warrior's muscles tensed, his hands gripping the hafts of his axes. "Is that right?" he growled, lowering his head belligerently.
"Stop it, both of you!" commanded Tungdil. "The two of you can carry the ingots until you've used up your excess energy. Djerun will take over when you're tired." They reluctantly obeyed.