Part 32 (2/2)
Eagle Talon agreed, and he and the other scouts returned to camp, there to eat and rest. They would head out early in the morning, making their way up the mountain.
The snow quit during the night. The air grew warmer as the wind s.h.i.+fted, blowing from the ocean waters to the west. The snow began to melt and Riverwind, before he fell asleep, worried that on the morrow the sun would s.h.i.+ne and the dragons would return.
The G.o.ds had not forgotten them. When dawn came, the sun was not to be seen. A thick layer of fog rolled off the snow and over the pine trees. Wrapped in the gray blanket, the people waited in the forest as Gilthanas and Riverwind, and two of the scouts climbed the face of the mountain, heading for the gaping hole that might or might not be the Gates of Thorbardin.
Chapter 9.
The Life Tree. The Council of Thanes. Bad To Worse.
The rattling wagon on wheels rocked along the metal tracks, carrying the companions to the heart of Thorbardin-an enormous cavern. Before them was a gigantic underground lake, and rising out of the lake was one of the wonders of the world.
So astonis.h.i.+ng was the sight that for long moments no one could neither move nor speak. Caramon gulped. Raistlin breathed a soft sigh. Ta.s.slehoff was struck dumb, an amazing occurrence in itself. Tanis could only stare. Flint was moved to the depths of his soul. He had heard stories of this all his life and the thought that he was here, the first of his people in three hundred years to view this fabled place, stirred him profoundly.
Arman Kharas stepped out of the wagon.
”The Life Tree of the Hylar,” he said, gesturing like a showman. ”Impressive, isn't it?”
”I've never seen the like,” said Tanis, awed.
”Nor ever will,” Flint said huskily, his heart swelling with pride. ”Only dwarves could have built this.”
The Life Tree of the Hylar was a gigantic stalact.i.te rising up out of the lake known as the Urkhan Sea. Narrow at the bottom, the stalact.i.te widened gradually as it soared upward to the ceiling so far above them they had to crane their necks to see the upper levels. A strange sort of iridescent coral found in the sea had grown up the outside of the stalact.i.te, and the warm glow pulsing from its myriad branches lit the vast cavern almost as bright as day. In addition, lights twinkled from all parts of the Life Tree, for the dwarves had built an enormous city complex in the stalact.i.te. This was the fabled Life Tree, home of the Hylar dwarves for many centuries.
Boats drawn by cables crossed the lake at different points, carrying dwarves of all the clans back and forth from the Life Tree, for as implied by its name, it was the beating heart of Thorbardin. The Hylar dwarves might claim it as their city, but dwarves from all the other clans did business here and took advantage of the inns, taverns, and ale houses that could be found on every level.
The boat docks were busy places. Dock workers tromped about loading and unloading cargo from the boats, while the boat pa.s.sengers stood patiently in long lines, waiting their turn to cross.
Word had spread from the West Warrens that the gate had been opened, and the Talls who had entered were prisoners and were going to be taken before the Council of Thanes. A large crowd of dwarves had gathered on the docks to see the strangers. There were no disturbances here as there had been in the outlying district. A few dwarves scowled at the sight, with Flint, the kender, and the wizard coming in for the majority of their enmity. Flint noted, however, that many dwarven eyes were fixed on what he carried-the Helm of Grallen. Word of that had spread, too. The looks were dark, bitter, and accusing. Many dwarves made the ancient sign to ward off evil.
Flint juggled the helm nervously. Whatever curse this helm carried must be a potent one. These dwarves were not the ignorant, superst.i.tious Theiwar or the wild-eyed Klar. They were Hylar for the most part, well educated and practical-minded. Flint would have chosen shouted insults over the heavy, ominous silence that lay like on a pall on the crowd.
As Arman Kharas sent soldiers ahead to commandeer a cable boat, Caramon cast Tanis a troubled glance.
”What are we going to do about the dwarf?” he said.
”What about him?” Tanis asked, not understanding.
Caramon jerked a thumb at the boat. ”He swore he'd never set foot in one again.”
Tanis remembered. Flint was terrified of boats. He claimed it was because Caramon had once nearly drowned him during a fis.h.i.+ng expedition. Tanis glanced with trepidation at his friend, expecting a scene. To his surprise, Flint regarded the boats with quiet equanimity and did not seem in the least bothered. After a moment, Tanis realized why.
The dwarf has not been born who can swim. A dwarf in the water sinks like a rock-like a whole sack of rocks. No dwarf feels comfortable on the water, and they had designed their boats with this in mind. The boats were flat-bottomed, long, wide, and solidly built, with never a thought of rocking, swaying, or bobbing in the water. Low seats lined high, windowless, wooden sides that blocked out all sight of the water gurgling beneath.
Arman hustled the companions into the boat, saying they had a long way to go yet before they reached the Court of Thanes, which was located on one of the upper levels. The dwarves on the docks continued to stare after them as they departed. Then one voice called out.
”Throw the cursed helm in the lake and Marman Arman along with it.”
Marman Arman. ”Marman” was Dwarvish slang for ”crazy.” Flint glanced at Arman, curious to see what he would do. All he could see was his back. Arman stood in the prow, staring straight ahead. His back was rigid, his shoulders braced, his chin jutting in the air. He acted as if he hadn't heard the insulting play on words.
Flint s.h.i.+fted slightly so that he could see Arman's face. The young dwarf was flushed, his jaw set. His fists were clenched, nails digging into his palms.
”I will find it,” he swore. His eyes blinked rapidly, and tears glittered on his lashes. ”I will!”
Flint looked away in embarra.s.sment, wis.h.i.+ng he hadn't seen. He did not like Arman, considering him a boaster and a braggart, but he found himself feeling sorry for him, as he had once felt sorry for a half-elf who could not find a home among either elves or humans, as he'd felt sorry for orphaned twins left to fend for themselves at an early age, and for a young Solamnic boy separated from his father and forced to live in exile.
Flint did not consciously equate Arman with the others. He certainly had no intention of coming to the aid of this young dwarf who had put them under arrest, but by the same token, Flint had never intended to come to the aid of Tanis, Sturm, Raistlin, or Caramon. If anyone had accused him of such a thing, he would have vehemently denied it. The twins happened to be neighbors; Tanis happened to need a business partner. That was all.
Still, at that moment, Flint felt extremely sorry for Arman Kharas. If the old dwarf could have found who shouted out the insult, he would have slugged him.
The cable boat landed on the Life Tree dock. There were larger crowds here, a mixture of all the clans. Soldiers had cordoned off an area and were holding back the gawkers. The companions met with the same scowls, the same dark looks, the same ominous silence that was broken only by the cheerful voice of the kender, who was constantly trying to stop to introduce himself and shake hands, only to be dragged away by a grim-faced Caramon.
Then, from somewhere in the crowd's midst, a low rumbling sound started, like the growl of a gigantic beast with many throats. The growling grew louder and more menacing and suddenly the mob surged forward, straining against the soldiers, who held them in place with by locking arms and bracing their feet firmly on the stone floor.
”You'd better get them out of here, Your Highness!” a captain cried in dwarven to Arman. ”Some are Klar dock workers, and you know the Klar, crazy as rabid bats. I can't hold them back for long.”
Arman pointed to a transport shaft that carried the dwarves up and down the levels of the Life Tree. The companions raced for it, with Hylar soldiers closing in behind them, prodding those who came too close with the ends of the spears.
They scrambled into the large bucket-like carriers, which, Caramon was thankful to see, were far more stable than the crude kettle-turned-bucket-turned-carrier they'd encountered at Xak Tsaroth. Crammed inside the bucket along with Arman Kharas, the companions stared out at the thwarted mob. The car gave a lurch and began to clank upward, jolting everyone.
They made the clanking, clattering, jerking ascent in tense silence. The strange world in which they found themselves, the oppressive darkness, the dangers they had already faced, and the hostile reception were beginning to tell on all of them.
”I wish you'd never found this helm,” Flint said suddenly, glaring at Raistlin. ”Always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”
”Do not blame me,” Raistlin retorted. ”If the fool knight had heeded my warning and not stuck his his nose in the helm-” nose in the helm-”
”-we wouldn't be here in Thorbardin now,” Sturm countered in icy tones.
”No,” Flint returned caustically, ”we'd be someplace else, someplace where people didn't want to slit our throats!”
”Just get off Raistlin's back, will you, Flint?” Caramon said heatedly. ”He didn't do anything wrong!”
”I do not need you to defend me, Caramon,” Raistlin said, adding bitterly, ”You can all go to the Abyss for all I care.”
”I've always wanted to go to the Abyss,” Ta.s.slehoff said. ”Wouldn't you like to go there, Raistlin? It must horrible! Wonderfully horrible, that is.”
”Oh, just shut up, you doork.n.o.b!” Flint thundered.
”Good advice for us all,” said Tanis quietly.
He stood braced against the side of the lurching carrier, his arms crossed, his head bowed. Everyone knew immediately what he was thinking-of the refugees who were their responsibility, and of the people counting on them to find safety. Perhaps the refugees were fleeing for their lives this moment, running from their enemies, putting all their hopes for survival on them, and this would be their welcome: angry mobs, swords and spears, boulders hurled at them from the darkness.
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