As Bal-Simba entered the hall behind Wulfram the dwarves arrayed themselves in parallel lines with an older dwarf at their head. From his position and stance, Bal-Simba took him to be their leader, a notion confirmed by the circlet of red gold fitted around his steel cap.
“I am Tosig Longbeard, King of the dwarves,” the head dwarf proclaimed as soon as the wizard gestured for him to speak “Here to reclaim my rightful property.”
Bal-Simba looked blank. “Property, Your Majesty?”
“The sword Blind Fury, the greatest treasure of my tribe.”
“Ah,” the giant wizard said softly. This was beginning to make sense.
“My idiot kinsman stole it from our treasury. We have traced him here. Now give me the sword—and while you’re about it you can turn over my kinsman for punishment as well.”
“I am afraid neither is here,” Bal-Simba said. “They were here but they have departed.”
From the way the news left Tosig Longbeard unmoved, Bal-Simba suspected he already knew that neither the sword nor the dwarf were at the Wizards’ Keep.
“Where?” he demanded, gimlet-eyed. “Where did they go?”
“The dungeons beneath the City of Night. Your kinsman—Glandurg?—wished to accompany our folk on a hazardous mission there.”
“A quest, eh? For what treasure?”
“No treasure, just great danger and a mighty foe.”
Bal-Simba didn’t need a mind reading spell to see Tosig didn’t believe that. Not even his moronic nephew would go charging into someone else’s dungeon unless there was treasure involved. The fact that the humans denied it only meant they didn’t intend to share if they could avoid it. To the dwarf long that was perfectly reasonable, but it only made him more determined to get part of the loot.
“We will follow him, then.”
“That may be a trifle difficult,” Bal-Simba said mildly. “The lord of the dungeons has closed the path to any who try to enter. Not even dwarfish magic may force the way, I fear.” For a moment wizard and dwarf regarded each other.
“Well?” Tosig Longbeard said finally.
“I beg Your Majesty’s pardon?”
“Well what’s the rest of it? You wouldn’t tell me that for no reason and you obviously don’t expect me to pay for that information. So you want something. What?”
Bal-Simba didn’t even try to disabuse him of the notion they were bargaining. The dwarf wouldn’t have believed him, and besides…
“No bargain, but I do have a suggestion. Soon we shall attempt a stratagem to force our way into the dungeons. If you would care to accompany us, we would be glad for your help. Meanwhile, please stay with us in the Wizards’ Keep as our guests.”
There was silence again while the king considered. “Very well,” he said at last. “If you do not delay too long we will combine our forces to breach this fortress and recover our property.” will have the seneschal prepare accommodations.”
“We will camp amongst the trees across the river,” Tosig Longbeard said. “This whole place stinks of dragons.” With that he turned and marched between the ranks of his followers and out of the hall.
“A hundred dwarves,” Bal-Simba murmured once the last mailed warrior had followed his king out of the hall. “And the Sparrow thought he had trouble with only one.”
“A hundred and a score and eight,” Arianne corrected. “Do you think they will be much help?”
Bal-Simba sighed. “I told you I fared poorly at predicting the future, Lady. I only know they will do less damage to our cause if they go with us rather than preceding us on their own and stirring up the Enemy.” He eyed the door where the dwarves had passed out “Probably,” he added.
TWENTY-FOUR – OPERATION WINTER STORM
Although not bound to their tunnels, the dwarves were uncomfortable away from them. Clearly Tosig’s men would rather be back at their shafts and forges than preparing to battle an unknown enemy half a world away. Still, dwarves are stoic by nature and none has ever faulted them for lack of courage.
There was snow in the wood, piled up under the trees, and a skin of ice lay on all the ponds and streams. The dwarves didn’t seem to notice as they bustled about, felling trees and digging into the frozen soil to make crude dugouts. Before the sun completed its short journey to the horizon, a section of the wood had taken on the appearance of a semi-permanent and none-too-uncomfortable camp.