The Covenant of The Forge dnt-1

by Dan Parkinson

  The Theiwar came cautiously, ready to counterattack invaders in their country, but when they saw the assembly below the cliffs they were confused. Nobody was attacking anybody. Gathering to one side of the massed Daewar, they clustered around and behind Slide Tolec, their hands on their dark blades, and waited.

  By the time the Daergar of Vog Ironface arrived on the scene, others were arriving, too — small groups of puzzled, cautious Einar from the nearer slopes, and even a little tribe — or tumble — of Aghar, creeping along a gully to peer out at what was happening beyond.

  By dusk, thousands and tens of thousands of dwarves waited on the slope of Cloudseeker, below the towering crag called Galefang, nearest of the Windweavers. It was what Colin Stonetooth had counted on. There was such a crowd now, that no one — not even the well-armed Daewar — could start trouble without risking a free-for-all in which everyone would be outnumbered.

  The sheer numbers, and the complexity of the groups, made it simply impractical for anyone to attack anyone. And to most dwarves — even the unpredictable Klar — the primary test of any situation — the primary test of anything — was its practicality.

  Mounted on his great horse Schoen, and flanked by the Ten, Colin Stonetooth rode to the top of a shoulder in full view of everyone on the slope. With great ceremony, he removed his helm and shield and handed them across to Jerem Longslate, First of the Ten. Then he drew his sword and hammer and — as he had seen Olim Goldbuckle do to signal a talk — he dropped them on the ground.

  The drums ceased their song, and in the silence Colin Stonetooth said, in a voice that carried to the fringes of the great crowd, “We are the Hylar. We are newly-come, but we are of Kal-Thax now, just as are all of you. So know this: in the spring, or the next spring, these mountains may be overrun by humans. Unless we — all of us, in unison — take measures to prevent it, we will all fall before the tide of human migration, if not this year, then the year after.”

  Olim Goldbuckle stepped to the head of his legions and raised his arms. “You speak of measures, Hylar!” he called. “What measures?”

  “We will show you,” Colin said. “Among us, we have the means to create a stronghold which no human horde can penetrate.” He pointed. “You, Vog Ironface! Your people have the raw materials that will be needed, in your mines. The ores to make the metals for a mighty stronghold. And you, Slide Tolec! Your people know these passes better than any. And you, Bole Trune of the Klar. Organized, your people can save themselves from the humans by helping to save all the rest of us.”

  Olim Goldbuckle cupped his hands to shout, “And the Daewar? What do you think we can offer to your plan?”

  Colin Stonetooth gazed at the Daewar prince and suppressed a smile. “You, Prince Olim, have the place.”

  “What place?” Olim snapped.

  “He’s right!” Slide Tolec yelled. “The Daewar have a great, secret cavern somewhere. I have seen it.”

  “That place,” Colin Stonetooth nodded. “A place that all can share, and by right must share. The Daewar because they found it first, the Theiwar because it is in their claimed territory …”

  “In Theiwar territory?” Slide Tolec demanded. “Where?”

  “… the Daergar because they have the materials to build it into a stronghold,” Colin continued, “the Klar — and the Einar and any others who care to, because they can assist in its construction and in its defense.”

  Olim Goldbuckle was fuming. How did the outlander know of his secret place — of Urkhan’s findings? “And what of you, Hylar?” he shouted, angrily. “You tell us all that we might offer — what we can do with our own resources — but what of you? What do you offer?”

  Colin Stonetooth spread his hands in an eloquent shrug. “We know how,” he said. Then his voice became commanding as he turned toward the ranked Theiwar. “Slide Tolec, we are within your people’s borders. Do you grant us permission to go underground?”

  Startled at the polite, ceremonial question, Slide glanced around at his followers, then nodded. “I give permission,” he said. “We’d like to see what the Daewar found here, too.”

  Colin turned to the Daewar prince. “Olim Goldbuckle, the gate behind me, in the cliff, is of Daewar crafting. Will you honor your neighbors by inviting us through it, in peace?”

  “And if I don’t?” Olim demanded.

  “Then we’ll take it down ourselves!” Slide Tolec shouted.

  “This is Theiwar territory!”

  “I already have a company of warriors below,” Colin said mildly. “It would be better if you invited us in.”

  Olim Goldbuckle, the master of maneuvering, knew when he was outmaneuvered. “We will open the gate,” he conceded.

  “I call a Council of Thanes!” Colin Stonetooth announced so all could hear. “To be held in Thorbardin!”

  Every eye in the crowd turned to him in puzzlement. “Where?” some asked.

  Even Jerem Longslate stared at his chieftain in surprise. “Thor … bardin, Sire? Is this the name of our Everbardin?”

  “In honor of the past.” Colin nodded. “And of the future.”

  Part VI:

  Thorbardin

  Thorbardin

  Beneath Cloudseeker Peak

  Century of Wind

  Decade of Hickory

  Early Spring, Year of Zinc

  24

  The Covenant and the Assassin

  By the time snows lay deep upon the Kharolis range, the mountain called Cloudseeker swarmed with dwarves, outside and in. The Council of the Thanes had lasted seventeen days, and scribes would be at work for years to come, recording and interpreting all that had been decided.

  With the Ten at his back, Willen Ironmaul’s guards positioned at strategic points, and several companies of footmen at his call, Colin Stonetooth of the Hylar could have dominated the proceedings. But he was wise enough not to. This place beneath the peaks, which he had named Thorbardin, would be his clan’s Everbardin, and the Hylar chieftain was determined to keep resentments to a minimum among those who would share its space. So Colin Stonetooth had a huge, seven-sided table crafted and placed on a wide, flat ledge on the shore of the Urkhan Sea, and brought the leaders of the thanes together there.

  Each prince and chieftain chose his own place at the table, and Colin Stonetooth was the last to be seated — even after Faze I, Highbulp of Clan Aghar, who was so awed by the proceedings and the presences around him that he did the only thing he could think of to do. He laid his head on the great table and went to sleep.

  Olim Goldbuckle chose the bench on the east, with his back to the brightest part of the great cavern, where the Daewar already had significant delvings going on. Vog Ironface of the Daergar chose a southern seat, Slide Tolec of the Theiwar a bench on the north, with Bole Trune of the Klar on his left, and the little Aghar Highbulp snoring on his right, and two benches remained. A heavily bearded dwarf named Grist Stonemill, selected by the Einar to speak for them, took the one on Faze I’s right, and Colin Stonetooth sat down beside the Daewar prince.

  The Ten stood behind him, and others moved forward to stand behind their leaders — Gem Bluesleeve and his Golden Hammer guards behind the Daewar prince, Brule Vaportongue and a dozen Theiwar behind Slide Tolec, eight masked figures behind the Daergar chief, a collection of unshorn Klar behind Bole Trune, several Einar behind Grist Stonemill, and a strange-looking little figure called Grand Notioner behind the sleeping Faze I.

  “In the place from which we Hylar came,” Colin said, “we used a seven-sided table for matters of council, and none knew why, because only six sides were needed. Now I see that seven is, indeed, the proper number.” He looked from one to another of them. “Reorx attend us here,” he said. “Give us the wisdom that we must have.”

  “Reorx attend,” Olim Goldbuckle muttered, and others at the table nodded.

  And so began seventeen days of debate and council, during which everything from the name of the place to a list of agreements for public and private u
se of its resources was worked out.

  The Daewar would keep and hold the easternmost shore of the Urkhan Sea, where an arm of it curved around a bend in the cavern. The quartz above made it a brightly lighted bay, the brightest natural place in the immense system. They would claim this shore and the stone beyond it, where they were already delving their city of New Daebardin.

  The Theiwar would claim the northwest shore and the stone beyond it, as far as the entrance to the cavern Urkhan had called the first warren. The Daergar would own the south shore where the quartz-strata light was dimmest and would turn their rubble heaps over to the Aghar, who preferred surroundings such as rubble heaps from other peoples’ delves.

  The Daewar would have preferred that both Daergar and gully dwarves be as far from them as possible, preferably clear across the sea. But Olim consented, since the bend in the natural cavern would block any view of unsightly digs from the Daewar city.

  The Klar, those of them who chose to make homes in the subterranean chamber, would claim and hold the deep regions at the east end of a second natural warren where an arm of the sea had its shores.

  Most of the Einar wanted no part of the caverns, preferring shallower digs. Those who did, though, were given leave to affiliate themselves with whichever Thorbardin clan suited them. For the rest, who were now beginning to adopt the name Neidar, which they had heard from Cale Greeneye and his adventurers, a pledge was made. The Neidar would remain outside to tend the fields and flocks that needed the seasons and the sun. In return for supplying the deep lairs with grains, meat, and lumber, they would have right of entry into Thorbardin any time they chose to do so and protection against their enemies by the armies within the stronghold.

  The seventh place at the table, henceforth, would be the Neidar seat.

  The two largest warrens would be common ground for all the thanes. Leveled and improved by workers using the giant tractor worms, they would be enriched with topsoil from outside — and with the fertilizers that Bardion Ledge, once waste warden of Thorin, knew how to process. The warrens would become subterranean farms.

  The Urkhan Sea itself would be common property to all, and Talam Bendiron was already at work designing a system of counterweight-powered aqueducts to do away with such primitive and wasteful procedures as bucket brigades.

  Each city would be as self-contained as it wished in such things as forges and shops, markets and housing, town customs and enforcement. But a system of tunnel roads and cable-cart ways would connect all the cities and would have common usage.

  Frost Steelbit and Gran Molden revealed intricate plans for a gated entry to the south, utilizing the Daewar’s hinged plug concept and Daergar iron for sheathing, combined by Hylar craft. The new gate would give ready access to the best Einar fields and provide access for metals from the Daergar mines.

  It was suggested that a second such gate be placed at the northern end of the underground realm, but that was set aside for later consideration. It was also suggested that the great tunnel the Daewar had bored through Sky’s End might be converted to a trade route — assuming things beyond Kal-Thax eventually settled down enough to allow trade with the outside.

  The armies of the thanes would be separate but would be at the common call to defend Kal-Thax against the threat of humans, ogres, or anything else that might threaten. And the Hylar agreed to train the troops in the ways that they had learned.

  There would be exploration to determine whether a magma pit could be created to power foundries, as in Thoradin. There would be surveys of places suitable for installation of sun-tunnels and a complete mapping of the natural ventilation system, which seemed to flow from a deep, walled valley to the south — that same valley the Theiwar called Deadfall — with exhausts high above, among the Windweavers themselves.

  So many plans and ideas were discussed, so many measures decided in those seventeen days, that hordes of scribes were kept busy just jotting things down for later enscrollment.

  And somewhere along the way, Olim Goldbuckle glanced at the tomes of his scribes and turned to frown at Colin Stonetooth. “We have overlooked something,” the Daewar said. “Every thane but one has an assigned place for its delvings. Where will the Hylar live?”

  Before Colin Stonetooth could respond, a voice behind him said, “There. There is Hybardin.”

  They turned. Behind the Hylar chieftain’s bench, old Mistral Thrax leaned on his crutch. His free arm was outstretched, pointing upward, and the palm of his hand glowed dull red. As though there were no one there but himself, the ancient dwarf muttered, “It is the Life Tree. The Life Tree of the Hylar. There shall be Hybardin.”

  He was pointing out across the sea, at the great stalactite standing above the waters, its upper reaches blending into the distant ceilings of the cavern.

  “Mistral Thrax has spoken.” Colin Stonetooth nodded. “That will be the home of the Hylar. We will build our city within it.”

  Olim Goldbuckle’s frown deepened. “The highest of the deep?” he muttered.

  Colin glanced at him. “What?”

  “Nothing,” the Daewar prince snapped. “But now I have a question, and perhaps the Hylar have a suggestion about it. We have avoided this subject until now, but its time is here. Who will rule Thorbardin?”

  All around the table they went silent, casting suspicious glances at one another.

  Colin Stonetooth took a deep breath. It was the question he had dreaded, the one which could bring all their plans down around their ears. No Daewar was willing to be ruled by a non-Daewar, nor any Theiwar by a non-Theiwar, nor any Daergar by any but a Daergar.

  “There are no kings here,” Slide Tolec hissed. “Are there any who would be?”

  “I am prince of the Daewar,” Olim Goldbuckle noted.

  “But not a king,” Vog Ironface rumbled. He turned toward Colin Stonetooth, and for the first time removed his mask. The features behind it were sharp and chiseled, like the face of a fierce fox. “And you, Hylar? Would you be king?”

  Colin Stonetooth shook his head. “The Theiwar is right,” he said. “There are no kings here. Nor need there be any. Should the day ever come when Thorbardin needs a king, then — trust Reorx — a king may arise. But that day is not now. I would have Thorbardin governed by pact, not by power.”

  “Then there must be such a pact,” Slide Tolec said.

  “A sworn alliance,” Olim Goldbuckle mused. “A solemn covenant, forged from our oaths and our honor. A Covenant of Thanes.”

  Aside, where a grim and silent group watched the proceedings, one sneered. “No king,” he muttered. “So they say. Yet the Hylar says there may be a king one day. I say that day will come much sooner than they think.”

  And around him, others nodded while a few muttered, “Glome shall be king. Soon there will be enough of us.”

  Glome the Assassin no longer looked as he had a season past, when for a brief time he had led the Theiwar. He had assembled a collection of disguises, which let him seem to be anything he chose to be. Today he seemed a Daewar footman, with a cloak covering his helm. It was part of the power he held over his followers. He could be anyone, it seemed. And he could go anywhere.

  His followers were mostly Theiwar and Daergar, but among them now were a number of rebellious Daewar, disgruntled at the upside-down world to which their prince had led them, and a fair number of Klar, angry at the bullying of Bole Trune. The group was a subversion — a growing, ragtag band held together by a common belief that Glome the Assassin would prevail in Kal-Thax. Not everyone was happy with this council of thanes or with the kind of future their leaders envisioned. Many had been recruited simply by the promise that Glome would wind up in charge here, and that his friends would be rewarded. Never had there been a king in Kal-Thax, but there would be. And great wealth would go to those who made him king.

  “Not Daewar,” Glome had told them. “Not Theiwar, not Daergar, not Klar. The king will be all of these … as I am all of these. I will be king.”

 
; “Our leaders do not lead,” a Theiwar growled. “The Daewar prince, the mighty Daergar … even Slide Tolec of Thane Theiwar has surrendered to these Hylar. They give away our rights. They make pacts which will leave us as weak and soft as porous stone. They abandon the old customs because the Hylar have made them afraid. It is time for a king in Kal-Thax. A strong king,”

  “Glome is strong,” another muttered. “Glome deserves to be king.”

  For now, though, Glome and his supporters bided their time, waiting for their opportunity to strike.

  *

  When all of the articles of the covenant had been debated and the final arguments resolved, Colin Stonetooth had a forge set on the shore of Urkhan’s Sea, and dwarves of all the thanes gathered for the Hylar ceremony of binding and bonding. Ingots of seven metals were heated on the glowing coals, and a great anvil was wreathed in the woods of the stone. Atop the anvil, the ingots were laid one upon another, so that their shape was the shape of a star. Then, one after another, the leaders of the thanes struck with hammers, bonding the metals together into one single artifact.

  Colin Stonetooth’s was the final blow, and his hammer rang echoes from the distances of the subterranean land. When he raised the hammer after striking, no ridge or seam remained on the surface of the joined ingots. There upon the forge lay a perfect fourteen-pointed amulet, smooth and gleaming from perimeter to perimeter.

  “It is a covenant,” Colin Stonetooth intoned, and around him the others echoed his words. “It is a covenant … covenant … covenant.”

  “Joined in seamless bond,” Colin said, and the voices around echoed, “Bond … bond … bond.”

  “The Covenant of Thanes,” Colin said. “Thanes … thanes … thanes,” the voices echoed.

  “A solemn pledge of all here gathered. A covenant of the forge … forge … forge … forge.”

  “The Covenant of Thorbardin!” He laid aside his hammer, and the vast distances of the mighty cavern whispered the echoes, “Thorbardin … Thorbardin … Thorbardin!” With his calloused bare hand he picked up the hot amulet from the forge, turned, and strode to the lapping shore. With a heave, he threw the amulet far out over the water, and a puff of steam arose where it sank beneath the waves.