When Frau had sought Kraft’s advice on choosing a second councilor from Haufen, Kraft had recommended three dwarves. The first was one of his own advisors, but Grundel had dismissed him as an option instantly, telling Frau that he had been the recommendation of Haufen for king of Shinestone and had been very emotionally driven through the whole affair. Frau had to agree with Grundel’s assessment that someone who couldn’t let go of his own desires and would openly pout in that way was not someone she wanted as her advisor. Grundel didn’t really know the other two, and she had talked with them both before deciding on Fuhrung. He was level-headed and, when asked about the other two choices, he had honestly conveyed his assessments without putting either of them down. She appreciated his very tactful answers. Fuhrung was nearly two hundred years old, which would also help give them some perspective, since Frau herself was not even fifty years old, and Grundel was less then twenty—though he looked older than that. His age was actually hard to judge because of his mixed heritage, and he bore himself with a maturity that would lead to others to believe he was much older than he was. All in all, Frau was happy with her two advisors. Now came the ceremony.
When the hall was full and ale had been passed around, Grizzle Stoneheart stood. The other two kings followed suit. Grizzle walked around the table and stood at the front of the platform. Kraft and Bergmann stood a step behind, on either side of him. When the dwarves in the hall were quiet Grizzle shouted so that they all could hear.
“Dwarves of Evermount, Haufen, Teifes Loch, and Shinestone! Tonight we will crown the first queen of a kingdom in nearly a millennium. The nomination was accepted and announced a day ago. Due to the timely response required so that we may begin planning to retake Shinestone, the council of kings has agreed that if no protest has yet been made, then we will not receive one. Now the council will raise Frau Gemcutter to the seat of her grandfather, Gefallen Gemcutter, the last king of Shinestone.”
As the room erupted into cheers, Frau, Grundel, and Fuhrung rose and made their way to the front of the platform. Frau stood next to Grizzle, Grundel stood beside Bergmann, and Fuhrung stood next to Kraft. Another dwarf brought the crown forward. Frau had gone to the smith after talking with Kraft to have her head measured to make sure the thing would fit. This was the first time anyone had seen it, though. It had been made in a week. It was a platinum circlet, and around its bottom edge were set hundreds of tiny gems—white diamonds, red rubies, blue sapphires, purple amethysts, light green peridots, dark green emeralds, orange citrines, yellow topazes, and pink tourmalines—placed in such a way that they created a rainbow of colors. On each side of the circlet the shapes of a chisel and hammer rose out and crossed paths. It was magnificent and elegant, the true crown of a queen. More than a thousand dwarves stood in silence as Grizzle Stoneheart set that crown on Frau Gemcutter’s head. When he stepped back she stepped forward, and the room erupted in cheers.
Frau stood alone at the front of the platform. She raised one hand to silence the hall. When it was quiet she raised her voice.
“I am Frau Gemcutter, granddaughter of Gefallen Gemcutter. Together all the kingdoms of dwarves will reestablish the kingdom that my family created and Miskrull destroyed. Let any who stand before us fall, as we restore what was taken.”
Another cheer went up, and Frau waited for it to die down before she continued. After each cheer came a silence as another thousand mugs of ale flowed down a thousand dwarf throats. In the quiet she raised her voice again.
“Behind me are the first dwarves to join me in reestablishing Shinestone, my advisors and my council. To my left is Fuhrung from Haufen, and now of Shinestone. To my right is Grundel Stoneheart, son of Grizzle Stoneheart of Evermount, and now of Shinestone. Together with those of you who choose to follow us, we will rebuild Shinestone and return it to its former glory.”
Grundel and Fuhrung were at her side now. She stepped back, and they both faced her, went to a knee, and put their fists to their chests. In unison they pledged themselves to her, but Grundel’s voice drowned out the voice of Fuhrung.
“I, Grundel Stoneheart, pledge myself to Shinestone and submit myself to the rule of its queen, Frau Gemcutter. May Bordin burn me if I break this oath.”
She put a hand on each of their shoulders. When they rose the formalities were over and the drinking began in earnest.
The rest of the night Frau accepted pledges of loyalty from many dwarves who promised to follow her to Shinestone. Many more would later join the cause, as some would come from their own kingdoms to help clear the mountain and to rebuild, even if they would not stay to make their homes in Shinestone. But for now, Frau’s main concern was getting to the mountain and taking it back from whatever pests had flooded in during the dwarves’ absence.
Chapter Four
Dungin Mountain
Fredin stood in a large public area watching as Narren approached him with his entourage. Fredin couldn’t help but smile. He looked over at Geischeit, who was also wearing a knowing smile.
Vingaza watched in anticipation from the corner of the room. The one good thing about being cramped up with orcs was there was always entertainment. There were always fights, more precisely. Now he was going to watch Fredin fight the other clan chief. The best part was that the other orc didn’t even know that he had been set up. He watched as the big clan chief approached the huge Fredin.
Fredin was by far the largest orc Vingaza had ever seen, and that was saying something after going into battle at Evermount with over a hundred thousand of them. None of them had even come close to Fredin’s size. The average orc was slightly larger then the average human. Fredin was the exception. He had come from a long line of breeding for size. He was nine feet tall, probably three feet wide, and a solid five hundred pounds of thick, ripped muscle. He was a daunting sight even to clan chiefs, who were typically bigger orcs.
The day after Fredin had asked if the wizards could help rebuild the fallen rooms and tunnels, he had ordered Narren to have his orcs clear the rubble in those areas. A couple had been crushed the first day when enough rubble had been cleared to cause a weak ceiling to collapse. The next day, knowing Fredin’s plan, Vingaza had sent wizards down to watch the orcs clear the rubble. He gave precise instructions that they were not to help in any way. That was yesterday. Now Narren was coming to confront Fredin just as he had planned. Vingaza sat back and watched the show.
Narren walked up to Fredin with all of his entourage around him. That was his first mistake, because now he had to try to demonstrate his power and Fredin wasn’t going to allow him to do that.
“Fredin, you asked me to have my orcs clear the worst areas and they are. Why are your pets just standing around watching them work? Why don’t they help? They have magic.”
Fredin just smiled wider. “You question Fredin? Are you challenging my rule in Dungin Mountain?”
The orc at least had the sense to try to deny he had challenged the much larger Fredin. He was obviously put off, but after looking around at the gathered orcs, he felt he had to try to keep up appearances. “I didn’t challenge your rule. I asked why your pets aren’t helping.”
Fredin laughed in his face. “Of course you didn’t challenge me. You are a kobold. That is why you challenge the humans.”
Vingaza watched the other orc chief with delight. He could almost see the chief’s brain trying to figure a way out of this as the orc’s already smushed face scrunched up in anger. “You call Narren a kobold?”
“I called you a kobold, and just like a kobold you’re going to scurry off and hide instead of stand and fight.” Just like that Fredin had forced the other orc’s hand.
Narren pulled a long, curved blade off his back.
Fredin stepped forward with a smile on his face, drawing his huge greatsword. The caves didn’t offer a lot of space for a sword like this, so he had started carrying on his hips the two dwarven swords that he had found. They were two-handed blades for the shorter race, but he could wield them both with ease. In this cha
mber, though, there was plenty of room, so he had elected to use the greatsword.
Vingaza watched the smaller orc as Fredin drew his weapon. Just by the scared look on his face Vingaza knew that the fight was already over, though not a single blade had moved yet.
Fredin began moving forward. When Narren swung his big, curved blade Fredin didn’t try to block or move, but swung his own sword. The greatsword slammed into the large, curved blade. He had intended to knock the sword out of Narren’s hand or at least just knock the blade out wide, but it simply broke under the weight of the blow. The blade clattered to ground. Narren stepped back, clutching the hilt of what was now only a few inches of jagged steel. He leapt forward, trying to drive the broken steel into Fredin’s chest. Fredin dropped his own sword and caught Narren’s wrist. His other hand reached up and grabbed the smaller orc by the throat. Narren’s eyes went wide. Fredin’s smile grew. He pulled the arm with the broken blade out wide, and then he lifted Narren up high before quickly swinging his body back down. Fredin went down with him. Narren’s head hit the ground with a dull thud followed by a clanking sound as the handle of the broken sword bounced away. Fredin stood as a pool of blood began to slowly spread out around the head of the fallen clan chief.
“Gather the Narrens.”
Vingaza watched as a couple of orcs exited the chamber in different directions. Then he watched as Fredin turned to retrieve his sword. Another orc was bending down to pick it up. The orc seemed to be just retrieving it for Fredin, but Fredin didn’t wait to find out. Before the orc had even finished standing with the sword in his hand, Fredin reached across his body, grabbing the sword on his left hip with his right hand, and brought it out in a flash. By the time anyone in the room registered that he had the blade in his hand the orc holding Fredin’s greatsword had been relieved of his head and was falling to the ground. Fredin bent down and wiped the black orc blood off the dwarven blade using the dirty shirt of the orc whose blood was now pouring out an open neck. He slid that blade back into its scabbard on his hip. Then he reached over and snatched up his greatsword just before the quickly spreading pool of blood reached the hilt. Enough orcs had witnessed the killing that everyone in Dungin Mountain would likely hear about in within a day. Vingaza was certain that the statement would ring clear, and no one would lay a hand on that blade again.
Hours later Fredin was standing in a huge room that had once been one of Shinestone’s grand halls. In front of him were close to three thousand orcs. This was the largest room that was still intact. There was another hall lower in the mountain that was seemed like it had been close to three times this size but it was completely collapsed. This smaller hall didn’t accommodate all of the Narren orcs, but it would do. He decided that once the wizards had helped reconstruct the areas in the center of the mountain that had collapsed and were making travel difficult, he would have them begin working on that large room. He needed a place to gather them all. But right now he needed to claim them all.
“Narrens, I am Fredin of the Dungins. I have killed your chief and claimed the Narrens. Who challenges my claim?” It was required when claiming a clan after a challenge that the one who claimed them offered the opportunity for any other orc to challenge the new chief. In this case the message was relayed all the way to the back to the orcs who couldn’t hear, but still no one offered a challenge.
“Narrens, I claim your clan as Dungins. We are all one clan under the mountain.” There were cheers and roars and that weird noise that was somewhere between a roar and a squeal that tried to pierce right through the eardrum. Fights broke out, but Fredin did nothing to stop them. It was all part of the ceremony.
Vingaza was not surprised when Fredin entered his room uninvited. He had been expecting him. He knew how the challenge and claiming process worked. He had seen Fredin go through it all before, after all. He also had anticipated the orc’s action after that process was complete.
“Vingaza, I want your wizards to start helping rebuild those areas,” Fredin stated calmly.
Vingaza allowed a smile to spread across his face. “Fredin, I sent them down hours ago, immediately after you dispatched that other clan chief. I was assuming that your postponing our involvement was intended to force him into confronting you. When I saw that you had finished with that I sent two of my dragons down right away to start creating the necessary supports for the areas already cleared. With them working around the clock the area should be finished in a day, two at the most.”
Fredin thought about this for a second. Of course the wizard had figured out his plan, which was why he had sent the other wizards down to watch the Narrens work. He had intended to speed up the process. Fredin had to admit this human was useful.
“Of course you did. When they are done I would like them to help in the book room in the lower level of the mountain. I want a room that can hold at least ten thousand orcs.”
Vingaza thought about Fredin’s request. He decided that he wouldn’t lose anything by agreeing, so he gave in. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Is there anything else?”
Fredin understood the dismissal for what it was but it didn’t bother him. He had taken control of all of the orcs in the mountain, and having the wizards’ help was making the work on the mountain much quicker. He just smiled at the human and left the room.
Geischeit was waiting in his room when he made it there. “What is it?” Fredin asked, knowing that he wouldn’t be waiting here if he didn’t have something to report.
Geischeit stood before answering. “The guards at the entrance have reported that a clan has set camp not far from the mountain. They are probably waiting to approach in the morning, since it is now almost dark.”
Fredin had to admit that this day just kept getting better. He had taken control of the Narrens, the wizards had started on the reconstruction, and now more orcs were coming to the mountain. “Gather a hundred orcs. We will go to them.”
Geischeit showed no emotion. He nodded and left the room.
While he waited Fredin decided that it wouldn’t hurt to take the wizard with him, so he headed to his room for the second time today. It was just down the hall from his own, so he didn’t have to worry about being gone when Geischeit came back with the report that the orcs were ready.
Vingaza was surprised when Fredin banged on his door, and it was definitely Fredin. Fredin was the only orc who ever came to him and that was definitely an orc banging on his door. He hadn’t expected to see him again tonight. “Come in,” he called out, not looking up from his book.
Fredin walked through the door and walked to the table. “There is a clan of orcs making camp outside the mountain. I am going to them. I want you to come with me.”
Vingaza looked up at the huge orc before asking, “Why would you want me to come with you?”
“I’m not going out there to start a battle with a whole clan, but I thought a little fire would change their mind if they are here to fight,” Fredin answered.
Vingaza didn’t really want to go, but it was only a mild inconvenience. “Give me a minute to prepare. I’ll come to your room when I am ready.”
“I’ll wait,” Fredin responded.
He thought about refusing all together, but this was the price he was paying for a relatively safe place to hide out until he could figure out what the insanely powerful Anwar and the dwarves’ next moves were. He closed his book, threw on his robe, and looked at Fredin.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Fredin smiled down at the human. He wasn’t sure if the wizard was going to give in, but he had. They were both still determining the boundaries between them, and he had just moved them in his favor. He turned and walked back to his own room with the wizard following. Geischeit was waiting outside his room.
“The hundred are on their way to the entrance now,” he said before Fredin even asked if they were ready. He knew that Geischeit had grabbed the leader of the first Dungin platoon he had seen. If he had grabbed one of the platoons that ha
d been Narrens he wouldn’t be so certain that the orcs would be waiting at the entrance when they got there. He reminded himself to mix the two clans tomorrow. He needed the new orcs in his clan to learn Dungin discipline. It was an uncommon trait in orcs, but he had found that if he mixed other orcs with the disciplined orcs they would follow the others and act the same way rather than think for themselves.
When they walked out the entrance they found a hundred orc soldiers geared up and waiting. Fredin didn’t even stop to give any commands; he just walked past them and started toward the camp in the distance. It was only a couple miles away, but it would take close to an hour to get there. He wasn’t going to run, after all.
Fredin approached a group of a dozen orcs. In the middle was the biggest female orc he had ever seen. Next to her was the biggest orc in the group, who actually wasn’t much bigger than the female. Fredin decided that he was going to kill the clan chief and make this female give him a son. Together they would make a son who would be huge.
The female stepped forward to address Fredin. “I am Hure of the Huren clan. We heard that the Dungins have taken a dwarven kingdom and wanted to see if it was true.”
Big, and she spoke pretty good. Now Fredin was determined that she would give him a son, but was she was speaking for the clan?
“Are you the chief of this clan?”
Hure smiled. “I am. I have been challenged over a dozen times. None will challenge me anymore. You have to be Fredin. The stories about the Dungins—that is the only explanation for your size.”
Fredin smiled at her now. “Hure, I rule in Dungin Mountain. We will take in your clan as Dungins. I will take you as the queen of the Dungins, and we will make a son who will be greater than both of us.”
She looked at him for a minute, trying to determine if he was serious. “I have not challenged you, and you are not saying you will kill me, so how would you take my clan?”
The Half Dwarf Prince Trilogy Page 4
