“That’s because you’re a pansy fourthling,” came the mocking response from under a helmet. It was a Zhadar laughing at him.
Ireheart remembered that coarse voice. It was the same warrior who had tried to provoke Slin with remarks about bolt length when they were up on the roof. He fell back to come level with the armored voice. “Was that you just now?”
“Was that me what?”
It was not the right voice. “No, it wasn’t you. But you know who I mean: The one who’s trying to stir things up-the troublemaker.” Ireheart pushed the man’s visor up. A blackened face with a short beard. As a dwarf Ireheart was finding it extremely difficult to tell one of these Invisibles from another. The dye gave them all the same appearance. It was really a kind of protection to stop them being identified; no one would be able to describe an attacker. “Whichever helmet you’re hiding under,” he called out, “hold your tongue. I won’t have this sort of thing.” He guided his pony to the front of the column again.
Tungdil had already changed direction and was riding with Barskalin, heading for the dunes. The remnants of the lake must lie behind them.
Ireheart urged his mount up. Its hooves sank in the loose dune sand. Then they reached the top and could see the edge of the lake. There was an island some four miles out, resting on a basalt stone pillar. To the left of it iron walls could be seen rising out of the water.
“That’s Lakepride over there,” said Tungdil. “We’ve arrived.” He pointed to the iron building. “The source is underwater so I suppose that’s a mineshaft of some sort.”
“Yes,” said Balyndar. “My mother sent her fifthlings as a favor to help one of Weyurn’s queens with the construction.”
“A masterpiece!” Ireheart was extravagant in his praise. “The pressure on the walls must be enormous.”
Balyndar did not conceal his pride in his tribe’s achievement. “Our engineers put in the wall supports to keep the water out. If it were a marine environment, like in the Outer Lands, where there are tides to cope with, it wouldn’t have worked.”
“That’s the advantage held by the fifthlings. They took in the best of all the tribes and so they’re way ahead with all the special skills the dwarves have, “Slin said generously. “I’d be interested in taking a look at that shaft. I can’t really imagine what it must be like.”
Barskalin pointed out a village about half a mile away. The upturned boats and fishing nets drying on the sand looked promising. “We’ll get ourselves a little fleet to take us over to the island.”
Tungdil turned his pony’s head toward the village. “Or one boat that can take ten of us. I don’t want to arrive with the Black Squadron. You can get somewhere to stay in the village. We shan’t be spending long with the queen.”
They galloped off to the village.
Ireheart was not surprised to hear a tinny alarm bell greeting them; it sounded as if the bell itself was frightened. “Not quite the joyful fanfare of welcome we’re used to, is it, Scholar?” he said, watching what the humans were up to. “They’re running to the lake.”
“They’re launching the boats.” Slin pointed to those who were making a break for it.
“I bet they think we’ve been sent by the alfar.” Balyndar touched his own black armor. “We don’t really look like friendly visitors. The last time any dwarves were here will have been ages ago when they were building the shaft.”
Hargorin laughed. “They seem to know my Black Squadron.”
“Send a couple of men over quickly to tell them we come in peace,” Tungdil ordered. “You’re right, Balyndar, I should have thought of that… We’re spreading fear even when we don’t want to. Back where I’ve come from that would have been a good thing. But not here. I’m sorry.”
Ireheart sent his friend an encouraging look. He really seems bothered about it.
Two of the Black Squadron rode ahead, calling out as they went.
Ireheart looked up at the glowing evening sky before it disappeared into the gloom of night-and he made out the shape of a flying monster making for Lakepride from the east. He could not say exactly what it was but it was moving fast. And it looked pretty determined. He called out to Tungdil. “You know more about monsters than I do: What is that?”
The dwarves watched as the creature approached the island and royal palace.
“I don’t know,” said the one-eyed dwarf. “But I don’t think it’s bringing Her Majesty a nice present.”
“Then we’re here right on time.” Slin was getting excited. “We can help her and then she’ll be in our debt. We won’t even have to ask her to come with us. She’ll do it anyway because it will be the decent thing.”
“That’s how I see it, too.” Tungdil got the squadron to stop on the bank where the villagers were standing by the boats listening suspiciously to their messengers. “Let’s get ourselves over to the island.”
Ireheart studied the water in apprehension as the waves lapped against the bank. “I hope Elria didn’t hear me just now,” he muttered into his beard, “and that all the fish bigger than my little finger are now dead.”
Rodario ran back into the palace and was relieved to note his warnings had been acted upon. Shouts came from all sides and alarm gongs sounded. Heavy boots thudded along the corridors. It was not only the fortress out at the shaft that was preparing for an attack-the defense positions here at the palace were also being manned.
He reached Mallenia’s quarters, where he found her in the doorway, already in half her armor, buckling the leather straps. “Do you know what’s happening?”
“That alarm is being sounded for me,” he said proudly.
“You? But you’re not dangerous.” Mallenia drew her sword and laughed. “No, seriously. Do you know what all the commotion is about?”
“I saw something flying toward the shaft. I thought it would be wise to alert the palace so they can greet the attacker properly…” He stopped, noticing that she was only half listening and was looking past him over his shoulder.
Mallenia lifted her arm. “Queen Coira. Are you looking for us?”
He turned to find the young maga hurrying toward them, surrounded by guards. She was wearing a black robe embroidered in white, her hair covered by the white veil. “It’s the Dragon,” she cried. “Lohasbrand has arrived.”
“To attack us or to discuss what you wrote?” Mallenia sketched a curtsey. Rodario forgot to bow.
“I don’t know. Wasn’t he going to send me a hundred orcs to help capture the alf?” She ran on and waved them to follow her.
“Where are you off to?” Rodario asked. “Is there a safe room at the bottom of the island’s base where you can wait to see what happens?”
“I need to get to the magic source.”
“Don’t make the mistake of destroying it without thinking carefully…”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to demolish the shaft. I haven’t got enough magic in reserve to defend us against the Scaly One.”
Rodario and the Ido girl exchanged relieved glances. “We’re pleased to hear you’ve made your decision.”
“And it is down to the two of you that I am able to do this. I have thought a great deal about what you both said and I agree that I must face up to my responsibilities. My mother will not have trained me in vain.” She gave them a brisk smile. “But it won’t be easy. I’m not a fighter at heart.”
She reached the platform from where the cable gondola could take her to the shaft. Coira was about to get in to the car but Rodario held her back. “Wouldn’t it be better to take the stairs? Our lives might hang from a rope.”
“It’ll be fine.” The queen got into the gondola. “Trust me.”
“I trust the construction but not that dragon that’s circling round the island.” He looked for the creature but it was not visible. “Where has it got to?”
“It’s underneath the island!” Mallenia shouted, coming over. “Let’s pray to Elria and Palandiell that we can get to the shaft in one piece.”
“Count Loytan will cover us with his catapult fire.” Coira ordered four of the guards to join her, and the last of them shut the door after her as the steep downward trip began.