Andфkai slammed down her book. "Now I know why they always take the first watch," she said irritably. "It's a wonder their snores never woke me. How am I supposed to concentrate when they're making such a din?"
Tungdil chuckled. "Imagine what it sounds like in Ogre's Death."
"I don't intend staying long enough to find out."
Tungdil looked at her rippling muscles as she stretched. She was impressively strong for a woman-stronger even than the scullery maids who were used to hard labor.
"Have you found anything new in the…" Tungdil checked himself. He had resolved not to ask her about the books.
Hugging her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on her hands and turned her blue eyes on him. "You think I'll change my mind if the books tell us how Nфd'onn can be defeated."
"Samusin is the god of equilibrium; surely it's your duty to strive for a balance between darkness and light," he said, appealing to her faith since honor alone was not enough to persuade her. Her decision to abandon her realm was proof enough of that.
Andфkai laid a hand on one of the leather-bound volumes. "If I could find a spell or a charm that would cause Nфd'onn's downfall, I would take the traitor on," she said earnestly, "but the books contain nothing of the kind-just far-fetched stories and myths."
"So you're turning your back on Girdlegard?"
"My art is useless against Nфd'onn's power. I was lucky to escape." She flicked through the book, opening it at random. "Maybe there is some kind of hidden meaning. All I know is that I don't have the key."
Tungdil decided to come clean. He produced the letter that Gorйn had written in scholarly script. "This was with the books. I suppose it might help."
"Is there anything else you're not telling me, or is this the last of your secrets?"
"It's the last, I swear."
Andфkai accepted the sheet of parchment, folded it, and placed it between the pages of one of the books. She rubbed her eyes. "The darkness is hardly conducive to study. I'll read it tomorrow." She returned the volumes to their wax paper wrapping, arranged the parcel as a pillow, and nestled her head on top.
"Tomorrow?" Tungdil had been expecting her to read the letter at once. He sighed; the maga was a troublesome person to deal with. He settled down next to the fire and glanced at Djerun.
The giant was still wearing his helmet, but the food was gone. Tungdil cursed: Talking to Andфkai had distracted him from looking at Djerun's visor, although, now that he thought about it, he hadn't been alerted by a telling clunk of metal. There was something unnerving about the maga's companion. Beroпn's Folk, Secondling Kingdom, Girdlegard, Late Summer, 6234th Solar Cycle Balendilнn barely had a moment to himself. On reaching his chamber, he discovered that two dwarves from the fourthling delegation had requested to see him.
Not a moment too soon. It's about time Gandogar put a stop to this foolishness. He turned round and hurried to the meadows, where the delegates were expecting him.
The high king's counselor was feeling remarkably upbeat. For weeks he had poured most of his energy into rebutting the rumors about Gundrabur's failing health, and rightly so: The high king had a strong heart and an even stronger will, which he employed in persuading the assembly to await the arrival of the other pretender to the throne. Such was his success that there was talk of strengthening the bonds among the folks in more permanent ways.
It's going almost too well, thought Balendilнn, gripped by a sudden apprehension. He stepped out of the passageway and onto a bridge across a chasm fifty paces wide. Deep in thought, he made his way over the disused copper mines two hundred paces below.
It bothered him that Bislipur never seemed to tire of rekindling the passions of those who favored a war against the elves. He and Gundrabur would have achieved much more if it hadn't been for the fourthling's inflammatory speeches. He's a rabble-rouser. You can guarantee his influence is at the heart of Gandogar's misplaced zeal.
Just then he noticed a movement in the mouth of the tunnel ahead. Bislipur was on the bridge in front of him, his left hand resting lightly on his ax. For a moment Balendilнn wondered whether the fourthling could have heard his thoughts through the thick stone walls. There was something threatening about his demeanor. Balendilнn stopped and waited. "Were you looking for me?"
"Do you know what they're calling it?" Bislipur shouted, his voice echoing against the rock. "The quarrel of the cripples: one-armed Balendilнn against Bislipur the lame. Is that how you see it?"
Balendilнn paused, hoping to hear sounds of other dwarves, but the tunnels were deserted. He and Bislipur were alone. "Quarrel is too strong a word," he answered. "You have your convictions, I have mine, and we're both trying to persuade the assembly of our views." He took a step forward, then another one. Bislipur did the same. "What is it that you want?"
"To serve the dwarves," Bislipur said, grim-faced.
"What is it you want from me?"
"A change of heart. How can I persuade you that the future of the folks and clans lies with Gandogar and me?"
"If you persist in campaigning for a war against the elves, I will never be able to support your king," Balendilнn said frankly. He stood his ground and Bislipur stopped too. Fifteen paces remained between them.
"Then a quarrel it is," Bislipur told him harshly. "Until Gandogar has been elected, I shall regard you as an enemy and a danger to the prosperity and safety of our race. The others will come round to my view." He walked toward Balendilнn, who was advancing along the bridge. Only an arm's length separated the two dwarves. "It's about time the high king was spared your counsel so he can come to his senses at last."
By now they were so close that their noses were almost touching.
"To his senses? That's rich, from you." Balendilнn stared at Bislipur and saw implacable hatred and enmity in his eyes. "Let me tell you this," he said, trying not to betray his fear, even though Bislipur undoubtedly intended to harm him. "Your war against Вlandur will never happen. Even the fourthling chieftains are having second thoughts."
"The throne is ours. You're no match for Gandogar and me." The words were spat violently, Bislipur's pent-up fury ready to erupt at any moment.
"I didn't realize you were bidding for a joint succession."
Neither flinched as they glared at each other, eyes locked in combat. All of a sudden Bislipur's air of menace fell away.
"Well, good luck with your lost cause," he said breezily. "May Vraccas be with you." He stepped past Balendilнn and continued along the bridge.
The high king's counselor closed his eyes and swallowed. Having resigned himself to a duel, he could scarcely believe that he was going to make it across the chasm without a fight. Bislipur's whistling reverberated through the tunnel, the simple melody repeating itself and overlapping as he strode away.
It was a relief to leave the bridge and feel solid ground beneath his feet. At least I know be means business, thought Balendilнn philosophically. He pressed on, anxious not to keep the fourthling delegates waiting.
He was just approaching a bend in the passageway when the floor seemed to shake. The movement was so slight that a human would never have detected it, but the dwarves had learned to take notice of the faintest vibrations in the rock. Something heavy was heading his way.
The next instant, he heard agitated mooing and thundering hooves. From what he could gather, a herd had been startled on its return from the meadows.
Balendilнn scanned his surroundings, searching in vain for a niche that would save him from the cattle's charge. There was no choice but to regain the bridge, climb over the parapet, and balance on the narrow ledge.
He turned and sped back along the passageway, spurred on by the sound of horns scraping against the polished walls. Panting heavily, he reached the end of the tunnel and the bridge came into view; the animals were right behind him.
Without hesitating, he swung himself over the side and steadied himself on the ledge. The momentum nearly carried him into the abyss, but the daring maneuver paid off and the cows streamed past behind him.