“And how do you know the unslayable is heading there?” Rodario stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I don’t want to pour cold water on the notion. I’m just surprised. Did he tell you before he left?”
“Yes,” he lied. “The unslayable told me because he thought I was done for. He wanted me to die in despair.” He looked at them determinedly. “He’s on his way there. We’ve got to catch up with him before the elves find out and arrive in hot pursuit.” Crusted elf blood flaked off his fingers as he moved them. He would have loved to get into a tub of warm water to rid himself of such filth.
“The elves have got other worries.” Lot-Ionan signaled for a pony-drawn wagon. It would save them a long foot-slog underground, meaning they should reach the surface is about half an orbit. “We heard that the two elf missions Rejalin sent to Toboribor were ambushed and killed.”
“Was it the ubariu?”
“No. Your lot,” Rodario said without reproach. “One Ginsgar Unforce of the firstlings felt it incumbent on him to avenge the high king’s death. He’s marching on Alandur. And apparently volunteers from the dwarf realms are swarming to his banner like flies. The atar will reap the storm they’ve sown.”
They took their seats on the cart and the long journey up to the cave entrance began.
“I’m not joking, Tungdil. If you don’t watch out and old Ginsgar is successful you’ll have a new high king without a by your leave from your noble Xamtys and the other dwarf high and mighties. It won’t come to a vote at all.” Rodario waited for a reply.
Lot-Ionan nodded. “Just what I was thinking. And we don’t want the dwarves led by a high king who’s set on war. Who knows, perhaps he’ll attack the freelings you were telling me about. Or the thirdlings?”
This was all too much for Tungdil. His eye-or what was left of it-was giving him acute pain, his best friend was fighting for his life, the diamond was lost and he had forfeited the magic ax. And now there’s war with Alandur-
“Be quiet, all of you,” Sirka demanded. She had read his expression. “He needs rest. Let him sleep.” She offered her lap as a pillow.
Exhausted, he laid his head on her knee, wishing fervently that when he woke up everything could be like before.
But Vraccas was not going to do him that favor. The wheel of time could not be halted and reversed.
When he woke up they were in the open and it was late afternoon. Autumn was near but the sun was giving up the last of its warmth as if there were no tomorrow.
Tungdil felt rested enough to visit Ireheart’s sickbed and found Goda there, red-eyed and anxious, at her mentor’s side, fingernails dug into her palms.
Tungdil needed no more evidence of Boindil’s parlous state of health or the strength of the thirdling’s attachment.
The sight of his seriously injured comrade brought back the memory of the death of Boendal, the twin brother. “May great Vraccas be magnanimous toward your hero here,” he intoned, putting his hand on Goda’s shoulder. “Goda, excuse all my harsh words and forgive me for not trusting you. I have no doubts now about your sincerity.”
She raised her head and burst into tears. “I’m so afraid he’ll die,” she wept. “Isn’t it crazy? I came to kill him to avenge Sanda’s honor.” She gave a sob and the feelings she had been concealing got the better of her. “Now he is near the death I so often wished on him. And it’s my worst nightmare.” Shyly she took hold of Ireheart’s hand and bowed her head again.
Tungdil quickly wiped away his own tears. “Vraccas will not take him yet.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I saw death itself back there in the caves. He spoke to me and never mentioned summoning Ireheart.”
She gave a faint smile. “Thank you. So you’re not really surprised?”
“No. Balyndis told me what you two had talked about. I never thought you capable of treacherously killing either one of us.” He turned around to go. “I was worried about maintaining secrecy. I was wrong, I can see that now.” He pointed to the injured dwarf. “When he wakes up, Sirka, Rodario, Lot-Ionan and I will all have left. You stay here with him. Mind he stays in bed and tell him I shall be needing him when I go campaigning in the Outer Lands.” He saw the shock in her face, and smiled reassuringly. “Only as an escort and for company on the way. I don’t want to deprive you of him forever. One last journey, that’s all. He more than anyone deserves to be with a loving companion.” He went out quickly.
Goda laid her forehead on Ireheart’s hand, closed her eyes and prayed to Vraccas. She had only ever once before asked her god so fervently for anything: the death of Sanda Flameheart’s killer.
“Tell me, Vraccas, what you want of me in exchange for the life of your hero Boindil?” she whispered unhappily. “I don’t want him to die. Do you hear me, Creator of all Dwarves? Preserve his life and take mine instead.”
“Vraccas had better not,” grunted Ireheart softly. He pressed her hand. “You make sure you stay alive.”
Goda’s eyes shot open and she suppressed a gasp of delight. “Master!” she whispered ecstatically. The next moment she was wondering how long he had been conscious. She blushed and pulled her hand away, but he would not let go.
“So you came to kill me?” he asked; weakness forced him to speak slowly and carefully. Goda sobbed. “No, don’t cry… I understand why. And believe me, there were times when I toyed with the thought of doing away with myself.” He swallowed hard. “Vraccas knows how many nights I’ve lain awake regretting Sanda’s death. I killed a magnificent dwarf. Like I had done once before.” Ireheart forced himself to describe the painful events. There should be no more secrets from her. “Her name was Smeralda; she was a little younger than you. We were very fond of each other but our love ended harshly. I killed her in the heat of battle at the High Gate. I did not know what I was doing.” Tears flowed. “I mistook her for one of the enemy…” He collected himself and paused. When his voice was steady again he sighed, “I thought I would never find love again after that. Until you came. I know we cannot be together, Goda. Killing your kinswoman is too great a barrier.”
Goda stood up and sat on his bed. “I can see the torture in your eyes, master. The pain is not from your wounds but in your soul. There can be no one in the whole of Girdlegard with more genuine regret than this.” She had not let go of his hand. “I did not want to love you even when you stole into my thoughts. Yet, despite all my complaints about the training, I became fonder and fonder of you. I did not want to admit it. I forbade myself to love the dwarf that had killed Sanda. So I hid behind sarcasm and rejection. Until I thought I had lost you.” Her shoulders shook. “When I saw you fall with all those arrows in you I should have rejoiced.” She looked him in the eyes. “But the opposite happened. I wished I was the one lying there so badly injured.”
Ireheart felt his throat constrict.
“Even if my great-grandmother’s soul spins in fury, I can’t help myself,” she said softly. “With all my heart I long to be more to you than just a pupil, Boindil Doubleblade of the secondling clan of Ax Swingers.” Her gaze was as steady and honest as her words. “If I have not pushed you too far away with my unkindness, I want to ask you to let me remain close at your side. I don’t care if we are fighting together in battle or sharing a home.”
“The same goes for me,” he croaked. “It would make me so very happy.” A wave of joy shot through his body, washing all the pain away as he looked up at Goda’s sweet face. The pale down on her cheeks reflected the candlelight’s shimmer, and the warmest affection shone in her brown eyes. He hardly dared to believe what was happening. Perhaps it was just a feverish dream. If that was the case, he did not wish to be cured of the fever.
Goda lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it gently. “Yes, Boindil. But promise me one thing: Let us fight the duel I demanded of you.”
“What do you mean-?”
“Please,” she interrupted him. “I made a vow to Sanda. I cannot break my promise to her. I’ve already broken my word by telling you of my feelings.” Ireheart nodded and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll let you sleep now.” And she made as if to leave his side.