The War of the Dwarves (87 page)
“What about the freelings?”
“I can’t go back to Trovegold—not now. It reminds me of things I’d rather forget.” He looked at her gravely. “As soon as I’ve
made my decision, I’ll let Gandogar know. Maybe I’ll go to the Outer Lands and look for the dwarves who carved that strange
rune. If Gandogar needs me, he has only to say.”
She tried to smile. “It’s sad, you know. For the first time in history, we’ve got a real hero, and instead of living with
his kinsfolk and sharing his wisdom with the high king, he worries about what to do with himself.” She tilted back her head
to look up at a star that was shining more brightly than its fellows. “Maybe it’s part of being a hero. If you didn’t question
yourself, you might get bigheaded.”
“Tell me about the dwarven kingdoms,” he said. “I’m tired of thinking about myself.”
Balyndis thought for a moment. “There isn’t much to report. The feud with the thirdlings is over, and the dwarves are united
at last. A combined army from all five kingdoms is guarding the Eastern Pass.”
He was about to tell her about Salfalur’s threat, but he changed his mind. “What about the freelings?”
“Still free,” she reported. “King Gemmil decided to carry on as before. He’ll welcome any dwarf who wants to settle in his
realm. It’s better that way. The freelings wouldn’t be happy in our kingdoms—but we’ll trade with each other and keep in touch.”
“Any news from the rest of Girdlegard?”
She shrugged. “Everything’s back to normal—except the beasts are gone. Even the dark water has disappeared and it’s fine to
drink from the lakes. Every last bit of evil has been destroyed.” She sighed. “It’s almost too good to be true.”
Tungdil remembered how the malachite had shattered before his eyes.
There’s nothing left that can harm us
. “The dwarves will see to it that Girdlegard stays safe.”
“Oh,” said Balyndis, uncertainly. “I almost forgot. There’s a rumor that the diamond for Queen Isika hasn’t arrived. No one
has seen the messenger or his guards.”
“What do you mean?” Tungdil shook his head incredulously. “What if it’s the ma…” he broke off, remembering that Balyndis knew
nothing of the magic stone. “But it’s a symbol of friendship!”
“People are saying it was stolen. Queen Isika is scouring Rân Ribastur for the thieves. You can’t sell a stone like that—the
culprits will be captured.”
Tungdil tried not to think about it. He was tired of being a hero.
Someone else can deal with it…
“What about you, Balyndis? How’s life in the fifthling kingdom?”
“It’s going well. We’ve rebuilt the halls, just as you said we should.” She flashed him a wonderful smile. “You’d be proud
if you could see it—even Giselbert would be proud. Glaïmbar is doing his best to be a good king and he’s getting there, Tungdil.”
There was a short silence. “Is he a good husband as well?”
She swallowed. “He did everything he could.”
He stopped gazing at the stars and looked at her sharply. “
Did
?”
“He let me go,” she said tremulously. “One morning he put his arms around me, looked at me solemnly, and told me he was lifting
the iron band.” She paused for a moment, regaining her composure, and Tungdil saw doubt, hope, and fear in her beautiful eyes.
He could hardly believe what he was hearing. “I asked what I’d done wrong.”
“What did he say?” said Tungdil, his throat suddenly dry.
“He said that he promised someone to make me happy and he couldn’t keep his promise without letting me go. He told me to follow
my heart.” She hid her face in her hands, crying tears of relief. “I prayed to Vraccas every night, asking him to bring us
together. Is it wrong of me to be glad?”
Even the stars seemed to be rejoicing.
Thank you, Vraccas, thank you.
Tungdil wanted to jump up and shout the good news across Gauragar.
Vraccas has given me my heart’s desire.
Restraining himself, he stroked her short hair, remembering her ordeal at the hands of the eoîl. She lifted her palms from
her tear-streaked face and looked at him tenderly.
“No, it’s not wrong to be happy,” he assured her, pulling her close. Silently, he thanked Glaïmbar, whose selfless gesture
commanded his unconditional respect. He kissed Balyndis, disentangled himself gently, and bent on one knee. “Balyndis Steelfinger
of the clan of the Steel Fingers, daughter of Borengar, will you meld your heart to mine and stay with me always, even if
we live a thousand cycles?”
Balyndis dried her tears. “My heart has been melded to yours for as long as I’ve known you, Tungdil Goldhand. It’s yours to
keep.”
They embraced, squeezing each other tightly, while the moon rose above them, casting a silvery glow over Idoslane. Nothing
could separate them now.
D
WARVES
Firstling Kingdom
Xamtys Stubbornstreak II
of the clan of the Stubborn Streaks, queen of Borengar’s folk.
Gufgar Anvilstand
of the clan of the Steely Nails, Xamtys’s deputy.
Balyndis Steelfinger
of the clan of the Steel Fingers, smith and custodian of the gates.
Bulingar Steelfinger
, father of Balyndis.
Glaïmbar Sharpax
of the clan of the Iron Beaters, warrior.
Fyrna Goodsoul
of the clan of the Ore Finders, messenger.
Beldobin Anvilstand
of the clan of the Steely Nails, messenger.
Secondling Kingdom
Balendilín Onearm
of the clan of the Firm Fingers, king of Beroïn’s folk.
Boëndal Hookhand
and
Boïndil Doubleblade
, known also as
Ireheart
, of the clan of the Swinging Axes, warriors and twins.
Thirdling Kingdom
Tungdil Goldhand
, scholar and warrior.
Lorimbas Steelheart
of the clan of the Stone Grinders, king of Lorimbur’s folk.
Romo Steelheart
of the clan of the Stone Grinders, Lorimbas’s nephew.
Salfalur Shieldbreaker
of the clan of the Red Eyes, thirdling commander-in-chief.
Theogil Hardhand
of the clan of the Iron Knuckles, sentry.
Fourthling Kingdom
Gandogar Silverbeard
of the clan of the Silver Beards, high king and leader of Goïmdil’s folk.
Freelings
Gemmil Callusedhand
, king of the freelings.
Sanda Flameheart
, queen consort and freeling commander-in-chief.
Myrmianda Alabaster
, medic and scholar.
Bramdal Masterstroke
, executioner.
H
UMANS
Andôkai the Tempestuous
, maga and ruler of the enchanted realm of Brandôkai.
The fabulous Rodario
, actor and impresario.
Furgas
, theater technician and prop master.
Narmora
, actress and wife of Furgas.
Dorsa
, their daughter.
Rosild
, nursemaid.
Prince Mallen of Ido
, sovereign of Idoslane.
King Belletain
, sovereign of Urgon.
King Bruron
, sovereign of Gauragar.
Queen Umilante,
sovereign of Sangpûr.
Queen Wey IV
, sovereign of Weyurn.
Queen Isika
, sovereign of Rân Ribastur.
King Nate
, sovereign of Tabaîn.
Truk Elius
, functionary in Hillchester.
Hosjep
, carpenter.
Aspila
, poor woman in Gastinga.
Ertil
, cook in Porista.
Lirkim,
courtier in Porista.
Nufa,
famula of Nudin/Nôd’onn.
Vallasin
, head of Belletain’s army.
O
THERS
Ondori,
älf from the kingdom of Dsôn Balsur.
Estugon,
älf.
Djer
n
, bodyguard in the service of Andôkai.
Liútasil
, Lord of Âlandur, kingdom of the elves.
Ushnotz
, orcish prince of Toboribor.
Runshak
, Ushnotz’s troop leader.
T
ungdil and his dwarven friends are on the move!
The first expedition was a great success, with the little fellows proving their mettle in a victory against the odds. Soon
the dwarves’ supporters were demanding to know what happened next. Well, a sequel can’t simply rehash the first book: It has
to be as good, if not better, while covering new ground. I wanted
The War of the Dwarves
to be accessible to readers who aren’t familiar with Tungdil and his friends, so I based the story on two new developments:
the simmering conflict between the dwarven folks, and the impending threat from the west. Prepare yourselves for some surprises:
The story gets very, very dwarven, and you won’t know what’s coming next…
Thanks are due to Angela Kuepper, my editor, as well as to Nicole Schuhmacher, Sonja Rüther, Meike Sewering, Tanja Karmann,
and Dr. Patrick Müller, all of whom read the book in its early stages. A special thank-you to Sally-Ann Spencer, translator
and friend of the dwarves, who did a great job. Thanks also to my German publisher, Piper Verlag, for giving Tungdil & Co.
a good home, and to Orbit for introducing them to the English-speaking world.
M
ARKUS
H
EITZ
was born in 1971 in Germany. He studied history, German language, and literature and won the German Fantasy Award in 2003
for his debut novel,
Shadows Over Ulldart
. His Dwarves series is a bestseller in Europe. Markus Heitz lives in Zweibrücken.
If you enjoyed
THE WAR OF THE DWARVES,
look out for
by Joe Abercrombie
Springtime in Styria. And that means war.
There have been nineteen years of blood. The ruthless Grand Duke Orso is locked in a vicious struggle with the squabbling
League of Eight, and between them they have bled the land white. Armies march, heads roll and cities burn, while behind the
scenes bankers, priests and older, darker powers play a deadly game to choose who will be king.
War may be hell but for Monza Murcatto, the Snake of Talins, the most feared and famous mercenary in Duke Orso’s employ, it’s
a damn good way of making money too. Her victories have made her popular—a shade too popular for her employer’s taste. Betrayed
and left for dead, Murcatto’s reward is a broken body and a burning hunger for vengeance. Whatever the cost, seven men must
die.
Her allies include Styria’s least reliable drunkard, Styria’s most treacherous poisoner, a mass-murderer obsessed with numbers
and a Northman who just wants to do the right thing. Her enemies number the better half of the nation. And that’s all before
the most dangerous man in the world is dispatched to hunt her down and finish the job Duke Orso started…
Springtime in Styria. And that means revenge.
The sun was climbing now, and the bright world was full of color. The blood had drained from the sky and left it a vivid blue,
white clouds crawling high above. Below, at the very bottom of a dizzy drop, the river wound through the wooded base of the
valley, autumn leaves pale green, burnt orange, faded yellow, angry red, light-glinting silver on fast-flowing water. To the
east, the forest crumbled away into a patchwork of fields—squares of fallow green, rich black earth, golden crop. Further
still and the river met the grey sea, branching out in a wide delta, choked with islands. Monza could just make out the suggestion
of tiny towers there, buildings, bridges, walls. Great Talins, no bigger than her thumbnail.
