The Hammer of Fire (10 page)

“It’s a bit dank,” she said noting that the
light stones embedded into the wall were further spaced than above
and not of the same intensity.

“We’re too deep for fineries, these aren’t
working mine shafts, that’s even further down, but nobody lives
here, it’s just tapped out silver and gold veins,” said Brogus.
I’ve been down here a hundred times and it gets worse the deeper we
go. Come on, it’s this way.”

“Do you hear anything?” said Milli as she
turned to Dol to find him carefully examining the hammer in his
hand.

“What was that,” said Dol and looked up from
the hammer with an unfocused gaze. “Did you say something?”

“Do you hear anything?” said Milli with a
stamp of her little foot. She wore a pair of leather boots with
wide toes that did not squish her feet. She didn’t often get a
chance to put on the work boots but a young dwarf apprentice, she
couldn’t remember his name, gave them to her as a gift a few years
back. She remembered the disdain she had at the gift originally but
now they proved their worth as the only pair of shoes she owned
good for hiking and running.

Dol looked up for a moment, startled and tore
his gaze away from the hammer, “No, I think we lost them but
they’ll be all over the area soon enough. Let’s find that exit and
those mules. Have you ever ridden a mule, Milli?”

The girl looked at Dol for a moment and
arched her eyebrows as she gave off a silly little grin, “Actually,
what is a mule?”

Brogus laughed aloud although the sound
didn’t travel far in the thick stone corridor, “You’ll find out
soon enough, spawns of Arioch they are. I rode them with the trade
caravans, they like to bite, they do, and their gait isn’t
smooth.”

Milli laughed and her smile returned in full
force, “Why didn’t you tell me all this before we stole the
hammer?”

“It’s just around this corner,” said Brogus
as they turned down another of the winding passages and then he
pulled up short.

“What is it?” said Milli as she also came
around the corner but then she saw the brick wall extension that
extended for as far as they could see. “They bricked it up?”

Brogus sat down with a thump and put his
hands to his head and tugged at his beard, “They’ve been on to us
from the first.”

Milli looked down the corridor, “There have
to be other areas close to the surface we can break through, don’t
there?”

Brogus shook his head and yanked at his beard
some more, “They’ll be here any minute, even if Uldex distracts
them somehow; they know this is where we’re headed.”

“Don’t give up,” said Milli and she looked at
Dol. “What … oh.”

Dol stood in front of the brick wall, the
great Hammer of Fire grasped in two hands. The handle was slim,
with delicate rune figures carved up and down its length, but the
hammer head was thick and almost black with a few heavy red symbols
barely visible on it. With a quick motion the dwarf brought the
hammer back and smashed it into the brick wall. There was a dull
thunk of a sound, but nothing else. Even before the sound faded Dol
brought back the hammer and struck another blow.

“Help him,” said Milli turning to Brogus, but
the heavyset dwarf was already on his feet pulling an iron jam out
from his pack.

“Thump,” went the hammer into the wall again
but this time one of the brick’s faces cracked and a powder of red
dust puffed into the air. Brogus thrust the jam into the cracked
and held it with steady hands just as Dol’s hammer smashed into it
sending a shower of brick particles through the air. One of them
sizzled past Milli’s head and she ducked back and away.

“Slam,” came the sound of the hammer and the
spike drove half its length into the wall.

“Now, this one,” said Brogus as he jammed
another spike into the wall and Dol’s hammer hit it directly on the
head. The entire wall shuddered and three heavy bricks fell from up
above, narrowly missing the two and landing with a crack at their
feet.

“Wham,” went the hammer and another spike
drove into the wall.

“Two more and we drive a cross spike,” said
Brogus, holding the spike at the end without even looking as Dol
brought he hammer in for another blow.

“Crash,” sounded the hammer and a shower of
bricks flew from the wall.

“That’s enough,” said Brogus placing a spike
at angle to the ones already in the wall.

Dol brought the hammer down again and an
entire section of brick tumbled to the floor with a terrible
crash.

“Now,” said Brogus. “One good blow and we’ll
punch through.”

No sooner had the big dwarf uttered the words
than Dol’s hammer hit the wall with terrible blow and the old
limestone crumbled beneath it. Daylight streamed through.

“You did it!” screamed Milli almost jumping
up and down as she peered at the two from around a little bend.
“We’re through, come on!” She dashed out and ducked down to crawl
past the narrow opening. Dol was next and Brogus came up the
rear.

He spotted one of his iron spikes on the
ground in the debris of fallen bricks and reached down to pick it
up, “Waste not, want … by the spirit of the elders,” he said and
suddenly dropped the spike with a flip of his hand. The thing rang
out as it scuttled across the floor and he stared at his hand for a
moment, “That’s not possible.” He stared at his hand and felt the
pain of the burning heat beginning to spread.

“Come on, you big oaf, there’s a bunch of
things out here with four legs and a lot of teeth,” came Milli’s
voice from outside in the blinding sunshine.

Brogus took one more look back at the iron
spike now resting on the floor and shook his hand in pain. “Coming,
coming.”

Seven dwarfs sat in solidly made, thick stone
chairs these on a raised podium decorated at the corners with
flourishes depicting axes, hammers, and shields. Before them stood
a single dwarf dressed in heavy plate armor that gleamed in the
intense light thrown down by a hundred glow-stones embedded in the
walls of the huge spherical chamber. The highly polished marble
floor looked glass-like as the reflections of the seven on the
podium were so clear that they almost appeared to be separate
dwarves. Around the chamber stood one hundred tall, fluted columns
each with a massive volute at the cap. Etched into the podium the
faces of fifty dwarfs stared starkly down at the petitioner in
front of them. Around the perimeter of the chamber stood two dozen
dwarves, these wearing heavy plate mail that gleamed bright gold as
if polished just a few hours before and carrying massive pikes at
least ten feet tall with wicked curved blades at the tip.

Outside the pillars and in a large alcove
hundreds more dwarves stood and watched the proceedings in a state
of silence.

“High Council,” said the young dwarf who
stood before the podium, “We must chase down the criminals and
bring them to justice. We cannot allow this theft to go unpunished.
What sort of message would that be to the younger generation of
dwarves? There is also the grave danger the criminals will reveal
the location of Craggen Steep to our enemies. The girl is not a
dwarf and the half-breed cannot be trusted because of his tainted
blood line.”

The dwarf in the extreme rightmost chair on
the podium leaned forward, one of the jewel-encrusted, platinum
bands around his beard clunked into the stone podium. “What you say
is true, Cleathelm Firefist,” he replied and stroked his beard with
his left hand which showed massive gemstones set into a golden ring
on each finger. “The thieves must not be allowed to escape. What
puzzles me is the reluctance of the High Councilor to recognize
this fact. Why must we debate this issue when time is of the
greatest importance? A cadre of our warriors must set out in
pursuit at once.”

“This is not a decision to be made lightly,”
intoned the dwarf at the center of the podium who sat on the chair
with the highest back. “There are those among us, including its
creator, who wish the hammer to be used in the world.” He spoke
slowly and deliberately with each word hanging in the air for a
long moment.

“That doesn’t make any difference,” squealed
Cleathelm from the floor. “We cannot allow them to get away with
stealing. What sort of example does that send to the younger
dwarfs?”

“Your duty is to present your case; not
harangue the High Council,” said the dwarf in the center of the
podium.

The dwarf to the extreme right shook his head
and mouthed, “Be quiet,” to Cleathelm. “High Councilor,” he said
and turned to face the dwarf at the center of the long table. “The
petitioner is my son and a fine lad, but he has the headstrong
nature of youth. Forgive him for his words.”

The High Councilor nodded his head, “Make
your arguments, Councilor Six,” he said in the same slow,
monotonous tone.

“While my son is rash what he says is
essentially true, High Councilor. However, there is more to this
unfortunate episode than merely the theft of the hammer. I’ve
spoken with the Master at Arms and he tells me that agents of the
dwarves who sit in this very room misdirected the pursuit. The
Blackirons have much to gain from the humiliation of the Firefist
name. It is clear to me Borrombus Blackiron planned this theft
along with the First Edos,” continued Councilor Six with a sharp
glance at the councilor in the far left hand seat of the
chamber.

“Do not refer to High Council members by
their name, Councilor Six,” interrupted the guard closest to the
podium. He wore a set of scintillating plate mail like the others
and carried not a pike, but a massive axe which he held across his
chest. His helmet was etched with the symbol of a golden ram its
thick horns curling up and around and glistening silver in the
well-lit room.

“My apologies,” said the sixth councilor with
a bob of his head towards Borrombus who sat in the chair on the
opposite side of the podium. “It is my opinion that Councilor Five
is a traitorous wretch who hopes to overthrow the High Council and
take power into his own hands. Does that suit the decorum of the
High Guard of the Council any better?”

“Hardly polite, but at least Councilor Six
follows the rules as he swore to do when he took his seat on the
Council,” said Borrombus with a wave of his hand. “Intrigue and
manipulation of the High Council is not a crime, High Councilor.
Even if I was involved in the so-called theft of the Hammer of Fire
you cannot prosecute me. Did not one of our illustrious seven pay
upwards of a million gold coins to have his son made apprentice to
the First Edos just six months ago?”

“That position has always been subject to
negotiation,” sputtered the sixth councilor as he got to his feet
and waved a finger at Borrombus. “What you have done is treason to
the council itself. You go against the will of the majority to
further your agenda. We discussed this issue! We voted!”

“Is this violence?” said Borrombus.

The High Councilor looked over at the sixth
councilor, “Sit down, please.” Then he looked over at Borrombus,
“Councilor Six is correct, Councilor Five. This issue came before
us and we did vote. The hammer was stolen against the will of the
council; there can be no questioning this fact.”

“This is madness,” shouted Cleathelm from the
floor as he pulled off his steel helmet. “Delius, Brogus, and the
girl are escaping. They are all low-born creatures and they have
one of the great relics of Craggen Steep. If the hammer is to be
used at all it should be used by a dwarf of good breeding!”

“The petitioner will restrain himself,” said
the High Councilor and two of the pike men on the floor took
several steps towards the young dwarf apprentice.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Torragus,” said Cleathelm
to the High Councilor.

“You will refer to me as High Councilor,”
said the man in the center of the podium although he could not
prevent a small smile from coming across his face. “I understand it
is an excitable event but we must deliberate calmly before
rendering a decision. Councilor Five, you admit that the theft was
against the will of the Council?”

“It was against the will of the majority of
the High Council, I will admit,” said Borrombus with a shrug of his
shoulders and a sly smile, “but it is not against the will of the
First Edos who created the hammer or of the current First
Edos.”

“Past or present, the First Edos has no vote
in council,” said the sixth councilor from his seat at the far end
of the podium. “It has been the tradition of the High Council to
consider the First Edos an honorary member at times but this is not
binding position.”

“At times?” said Borrombus.

“At times,” replied Councilor Six.

“This is a patent disregard for tradition. An
ugly insistence upon the letter of the law rather than its spirit,”
said Borrombus with a shake of his head and a deep frown that
accentuated his bulbous cheeks.“The First Edos has always been
awarded a vote on the High Council and even given veto power on
many occasions.”

“You consider the law of Craggen Steep, as
laid down by Dar Drawhammer in the aftermath of the expulsion of
the elementals, to be flawed in some way?” said the High Councilor
in that steady tone of his.

Borrombus closed his mouth and sat in silence
for a few seconds while Cleathelm snickered quietly from the below,
“I have the utmost respect for the laws laid down by Dar Drawhammer
but I also respect the traditions that have evolved over the last
five thousand years since that momentous event. In all that time
the First Edos has traditionally been given a vote in High
Council.”

“When the First Edos is not of noble blood
that tradition has often been ignored,” said the Councilor Six in a
firm voice. “You cannot deny that, surely.”

“Only in the last few centuries have the
families ignored the First Edos in those circumstances and that is
the underlying poison that is destroying Craggen Steep from within.
Only members of the three families can gain advancement in our
realm. The best young dwarves of the lower classes are being
ignored and passed over.”