Part 27 (2/2)

Riverwind thought this very likely. As he walked among the refugees, he saw them huddled together for warmth, their faces pale and pinched. The fire's glow that had warmed hearts last night was cold ash this morning. They had food and water enough for a few days more, and they were at least that far from the gate-if gate it was and if the dwarves would let them in.

If, if, if. So many ifs.

”We could use a miracle,” Riverwind said somberly, lifting his gaze to the heavens. ”I'm not asking for a big one, not like moving the mountain-just a small one.”

Something cold and wet stung Riverwind's skin. He put his hand to his cheek and felt a snowflake melting on his skin. Another snow-flake landed in his eye; another splattered on his nose. He gazed up into the gray clouds, into ma.s.ses of white flakes drifting lazily from the sky.

Instead of a miracle, the G.o.ds had sent yet more to test them. The snow would clog the pa.s.s. They would have to leave or risk becoming trapped here for good.

Even as despair settled over Riverwind, he felt his heart lift. He did not understand why at first, then the reason came to him. The dragonfear was gone. The dragons were no longer in the skies.

He stared at the snow falling thick around him and he would have fallen to his knees to give thanks, but he had no time to waste.

Riverwind had been given his miracle. It was up to him to make use of it.

Chapter 4.

Arman's Destiny. Anvil's Echo. Murder holes and worm Meat.

Flint had described the wonders of the dwarven realm of Thorbardin many times to Tanis, always with a touch of bit-terness, for although no hill dwarf would ever trade his place in the world ”above” to live beneath the mountain, every hill dwarf was deeply offended that the choice had been taken away from him. Tanis had always secretly believed that Flint had exaggerated his tales of the amazing sights to be found in mountain kingdom. Flint actually had never seen any of these sights. He was merely recounting tales that had been told him by his father, who had heard them from his grandfather, and so on back several generations. Flint was convinced that there was immense wealth in Thorbardin that was being denied him and his people, so when he told the tale of a city built entirely inside a gigantic stalact.i.te, Tanis was always careful to hide his smile.

Now, walking the roads beneath the mountain, Tanis was starting to think he'd done his old friend an injustice. Whereas humans constructed buildings out of stone by mounting blocks one atop the other, the dwarves had carved their buildings out of the mountain's interior, taking away rock rather than adding it, so that all the structures seemed to flow together in beautiful and entrancing formations.

Leaving the gate, they entered an immense hall supported by round pillars. The light of the strange green glowing worms and the gleaming crystal atop Raistlin's staff shone on wonderfully carved stone work portraying scenes from dwarven life.

Although now the hall was deserted, it had apparently been constructed so as to take advantage of the traffic that had once moved in and out of the great gate. Wagons with iron wheels once ran along rails embedded in the floor, ferrying goods and visitors deeper into the mountain's interior.

Looking around in awe, Tanis imagined the vast hall bustling with dwarves and people of other races who came to Thorbardin. Elves had once walked here, as had humans, for dwarven goods and dwarven craftsmans.h.i.+p were much in demand. Gold and silver had flowed into Thorbardin then. Iron, steel, and rare and precious gems dug from the mountain had flowed out.

Now the iron rails were rusted. The wagons lay on their sides, their wheels frozen in time. The shops that had once sold pots and kettles, rims for wagon wheels, wooden toys, swords, armor and glittering jewels now catered only to the sad and empty dreams of ghosts.

Houses had been boarded up, their shutters falling off; wooden doors hung on rusted hinges.

”Tanis,” said Caramon quietly. ”Take a look at Flint. Something's wrong.”

Tanis looked back at the dwarf in concern. Caramon was right. Flint did not look well. He had ceased to swear at his captors and quit struggling, all of which was a bad sign. His face was mottled, ashen gray with red spots. His breathing seemed labored. Their guards were urging them on a rapid pace. The dwarven soldiers held their weapons at the ready, keeping a keen watch.

”Your Highness,” Tanis called out, ”would it be possible for us to stop to rest or at least slow down?”

”Not here,” Arman replied. ”We have already been in this part of the realm too long. We came here to free my brother, Pick,” he added, gesturing to the sickly dwarf, who walked along at his side. ”We heard the noise of the gate and came to investigate, and now we must leave before more Theiwar come.”

”So this part of the realm is ruled by the Theiwar?” Tanis asked, glancing at Flint. The dwarf barely seemed to be listening. ”Are the Theiwar and the Hylar at war?”

”Not yet,” Arman said grimly, ”but it is only a matter of time.”

”Just our luck,” Sturm muttered. ”War beneath beneath the ground as well as above.” the ground as well as above.”

Tanis was thinking the same and wondering how this fighting among the dwarves would affect his own cause, when he became aware, with a start, that Raistlin was walking quite close beside him. Tanis could smell the disquieting odor of rose petal and decay, and he drew back slightly.

”A word with you, Half-Elven,” Raistlin said. ”Speaking of the Theiwar, don't you find it odd that they did not appear surprised to see us? Compare their reaction to that of Arman Kharas and his soldiers.”

”To be honest, I don't recall the Theiwar's reaction,” Tanis said, ”other than the swords in their hands, of course.”

”This is not a matter for levity,” said Raistlin reprovingly, and before Tanis could say anything else the mage left in a huff, going back to walk alongside his brother.

Tanis sighed. He had some idea what Raistlin was getting at, but it was one more worry he didn't need and he put it out of his mind. He looked again at Flint. His jaw was clenched, perhaps in anger, or perhaps against pain-with the stubborn old dwarf, it was hard to tell.

Caramon asked him if he was hurt or ill, but Flint paid him no heed. He stomped along, deaf to his friends' concerns.

To Tanis's surprise, Arman Kharas left his place in the lead and dropped back to walk beside his prisoners. Arman seemed to find them fascinating, for he kept staring at them, especially at Tanis.

”You are not a human,” he said at last.

”I have elven blood,” Tanis acknowledged.

Arman nodded, as if he had guessed as much.

”This hall once must have been very beautiful,” said Tanis. ”Perhaps now that the gate is open, this deserted part of Thorbardin can be rebuilt. Bring back the old prosperity.”

”This now belongs to the Theiwar and they have small interest in building, being more concerned with their own dark plots and schemes. And this part of the realm is not deserted,” Arman said, adding ominously, ”The Theiwar are out there, watching us from the shadows, making certain that we do not linger in their kingdom.”

”Why don't they attack us?” Tanis asked, pleased that the Hylar prince was at least talking to him.

”The Theiwar prefer opponents who travel alone and are not armed, like my half-brother. He accidentally stumbled into Theiwar holdings and was taken prisoner. They made a ransom demand, but my father rightly refused to pay off thugs and murderers. Our spies informed me where Pick was being held, and my father sent his troops under my command to free him.”

They left the hall and entered an area that appeared to be an ancient temple, for there were symbols for the various G.o.ds carved on the walls.

”A great many people must have come to Thorbardin in the old days,” Tanis remarked.

”They came from all over Ansalon,” said Arman proudly, ”even from as far away as Istar. They came to buy or barter. They came to hire our iron workers and our stone masons. They brought wealth and prosperity to our people.” His voice grew hard, his words bitter. ”They brought the Cataclysm, and after that the war, and all our prosperity ended.”

”It need not have ended if those beneath the mountain had not closed the gate, keeping out their cousins who had a right to enter,” Flint stated, the first words he'd spoken in a long while.

Tanis was relieved to see some color starting to return to Flint's face. That and the fact that he was bringing up this old argument was an indication the dwarf was recovering from whatever had ailed him.

”We don't need to go into all that now,” Tanis admonished, but he might have saved his breath.

”King Duncan-or Derkin as you Neidar named him-had no choice in the matter,” Arman stated. ”We were also affected by the Cataclysm. Many of our farming warrens were destroyed. Our food supplies were limited. If we had allowed your people to come inside, we would not have saved you. We would have all starved to death together.”

”So you say.” Flint snorted, but he didn't speak with his usual outrage and conviction.

He kept darting glances about at the ruins of the once great city, and though he was trying his best to hide it, he was obviously shocked and depressed by what he saw. The wonders of Thorbardin were wrecked wagons and rusted door hinges.

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