Masters of Stone and Steel - Gav Thorpe & Nick Kyme

by Warhammer

  ‘When really they’re all desperate for a maiden of their own, right?’

  ‘If only,’ said Friedra with a sorrowful shake of the head. ‘There’s a good few of them perfectly content to spend all their days with no more company than a pipe and a pint. Just as well really. They’d be scrapping each other with tooth and nail if they was all so desperate to get a wife. You think we’re treated poorly? Just think what they would do if we was made of gold.’

  ‘I don’t understand. They would value us.’

  ‘No, dear, that would be a disaster. What do they do with gold, dear?’ Haldora shook her head and shrugged, not understanding the point of the question. ‘They hoard it. They put it in vaults and try to make sure it never comes out. If they thought the same way about womenfolk they’d have us locked up and there would be wars waged for possession of us. It’d be terrible. Better that they don’t think about it too much, and them that gets the urge for a family can make the effort.’

  Haldora had never thought about things that way, and though she was not entirely sure she agreed, there was some sense in what her mother said. Fundamentally, it just didn’t feel right, that though she was as capable as any of the menfolk at anything she wanted to turn her hand to, she was only allowed to do certain things.

  ‘Allowed’ was perhaps not the right word. As Friedra had said, Gabbik had never banned Haldora from doing anything. But there was expectation, and that was harder than anything to fight. She was expected to cook and clean and know how to raise little dwarfs. It was expected that she would leave the mining and brewing and fighting and everything else to the menfolk so that she had more time to cook and clean and raise little dwarfs. And to defy expectation was to receive the worst kind of patronising condemnation possible – pity.

  ‘I know why you lied to Nakka and didn’t tell your father, but that isn’t the way to get what you want,’ Friedra had continued. ‘You don’t win the game by cheating. You have to play by the rules. Most of them the menfolk write, but we write a few ourselves. And the thing is, to keep them on their toes, we’re allowed to rewrite our rules whenever we like and we don’t have to tell them. They’ve got to stick by theirs, because that’s the way their minds work. Predictable and dependable, most of them.’

  Haldora wasn’t sure what rules her mother had been talking about and had not had the opportunity to ask. The patrol was due back that morning and her treacle cake needed presenting. It was only a day out of the oven and a few more would have helped, but overall Haldora was pleased with the effort.

  The cake was almost as large as a cart wheel, nearly as wide as her outstretched arms and as thick as the stones that made up the rampart. It was almost completely black from spending a whole day in the oven, the sugary cement-like mixture she had created dried like pottery in a kiln. She rapped her knuckles on the edge and it made a dull thudding, just like Gramma Awdie had shown her. She had artfully arranged sugared nuts to form the rune for tromm, a dwarfish word that meant beard, but also respect, and was the closest rune there was for an apology, as it was impossible for a dwarf to ever admit he had been wrong, but could quite equally acknowledge and respect that another dwarf was also right whilst holding to a differing opinion.

  With the help of two young maidens from the Troggklads and Burlithroms Haldora had manoeuvred the cake into the main eating hall of the citadel, where it would be shared amongst the returning patrol members first and then the remainder would be left for the rest of the garrison to plunder as they desired.

  Haldora waited expectantly, embroidering the Troggklad family runes onto a handkerchief she would give to Nakka. As she worked she considered her mother’s words and realised the wisdom of them. She couldn’t outfight her father, and certainly couldn’t out-stubborn him. But her father needed her as much as she needed him, and that gave her… She wasn’t sure what that gave her. It was like something helping her get what she wanted, but she couldn’t think of a suitable analogy.

  Leverage. It came to her of a sudden as she thought about how she was able to move the bigger rocks in the mines with the help of a pole rather than asking one of the menfolk for assistance. The cooking and cleaning gave her leverage, and so if she provided that then her father and Nakka and the others owed her.

  She didn’t like thinking this way. It felt devious. Much more devious than lying about a few stupid axeplay lessons. Haldora could barely believe her mother condoned this sort of manipulation, but the more she thought about it the more Haldora was sure that was what Friedra had intended.

  The day was already dragging past. Haldora had thought the patrol would have been back by now. Looking at the shadows in the window arches it was nearly midday, or so she reckoned. She glanced at the mantel clock above the fireplace. It was a grand old thing, almost as big as her, kept running by a cunning arrangement of weights, cams, pulleys, springs and sand pourers, and needed resetting only once every eight days. It confirmed that it was actually past noon.

  They really should have been back by now.

  Haldora put her sewing aside and left the great hall by one of the side doors, heading to a spiral staircase that ran up to the upper floors of the citadel. On the floor above the great hall were the chambers of the commandant – currently Stofrik, despite Gabbik’s intentions – and several dozen dwarfs from the Grimssons, Burlithroms and Fundunstulls were sitting on the benches and stools of the main guard room playing cards and dice. A haze of pipe smoke highlighted in the glare of the sun drifted in the breeze coming through the slit windows.

  ‘Has anybody seen the patrol?’ Haldora asked.

  The question was answered with disinterested head shakes and shrugs so Haldora moved to the curtained archway leading to Stofrik’s rooms. She pushed past the thick hanging and found herself in a study-like chamber, with a set of shelves to one side and a small desk on the opposite wall. There was a wooden door beyond and she knocked loudly and opened it.

  Stofrik was behind a large desk, chair tipped back against the wall beneath a window, hands behind his head, eyes closed. Haldora’s entrance didn’t rouse him so she banged on the desktop, rattling an inkwell. Stofrik’s eyes opened instantly and he flopped forward, the chair banging on the stone floor. He looked at Haldora for a moment, brow wrinkled, and then recognition set in.

  ‘How might I help you, my young maiden?’

  ‘The patrol hasn’t returned. The one with my father and grandfather.’

  ‘Has it not?’ Stofrik stood up and looked out of the window, as though to see them right outside. ‘I would have thought they would be back by now. The last camp is only around the other side of Nassuk Tor. Still, I wouldn’t worry just yet. There’s a lake not that far away, they probably went fishing, or maybe they’re just enjoying themselves in the sun.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like my father,’ said Haldora.

  ‘No,’ said Stofrik. He pulled a pipe from the pocket of his jacket and tapped it out on the window sill. He popped it into his mouth unfilled and frowned. ‘The punctual sort, isn’t he?’

  ‘Very. Takes changes of shift very seriously, does my pa.’

  ‘Still, it’s only a morning. There could be any number of reasons why they’re not back yet.’

  ‘We could go and look,’ said Haldora.

  ‘The next patrol goes out in the morning. If your father isn’t back by nightfall, he’ll be camping out another night. We’ll go look for them tomorrow if they’re that late.’

  ‘That’s a whole day! That’s not good enough!’

  Stofrik’s eyebrows furrowed even more and his lip curled.

  ‘Perhaps your father allows you to speak in that fashion to him, but I’ll not have it!’ The old dwarf sat down and knotted his fingers together. ‘I am commander of this garrison and a thane, and you will show me the respect I have earned. It is customary to wait for a day before declaring a patrol overdue. That is what I intend to do, young lady.’

  Haldora was going to argue some more but she could see Stofri
k’s temper was already at its limit as he glared at her.

  ‘Very well,’ she said stiffly, and left.

  She went up the steps from the guard room and out onto the parapet that ran to the outer towers on the flat ground either side of the ridge of rock on which sat the citadel. She turned to the west tower, where she knew Fleinn and his family were currently billeted. The stretch of wall was nearly a thousand paces long, and halfway there was an open tower – really nothing more than a wider stretch of wall with a roof but no walls. A gaggle of sentries waited there, manning four brass looking-tubes mounted to each side of the rampart.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Haldora said, approaching the guards. She didn’t know any of them by name – distant relatives in the Troggklads. ‘Have you seen anything of the patrol, please?’

  ‘Sorry, lass, nowt but crows and hares out there this morning,’ replied one of the sentries. He stepped away from the wall and waved a hand towards the viewing glass. ‘Take a look for yourself if you like.’

  Haldora accepted the invitation by stepping up to the looking-lens. It was made of two brass tubes, one within the other, mounted on a pinion set into the top of the rampart. Inside were carefully crafted slices of quartz, fashioned to magnify the view.

  Closing one eye, she leaned into the viewing tube and laid her hand to it, turning it on its gimbals to look left and right, from south-west to south-east. There was nothing. No smoke, no dust and certainly no dwarfs.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, stepping back.

  ‘Everything all right, lass?’ asked the guard.

  ‘Not sure,’ she replied quietly. ‘The patrol should have been back.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing serious,’ said one of the other sentries. ‘We’d have seen the flare.’

  ‘Flare?’ Haldora wasn’t sure what the word meant in this context.

  ‘One of them new-fangled rocket-things, filled with bang powder,’ said the guard. ‘Burns red, bright as a star, and gives off red smoke so you can see it in the day too. Just light the cord, stick it in the ground and, whoosh! It goes up and warns everybody there’s trouble.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know that. I suppose you’re right,’ said Haldora, glancing back over the wall as though she might see a flare being loosed right then.

  She continued on to the outer tower, where Fleinn and several others were sat in the guard room cooling themselves with broad fans made of woven reed, painted with river scenes from the mountains.

  ‘Ey up, Haldi, what brings you out here?’ asked Fleinn, standing up. ‘I hear you been baking some treacle cake, right?’ He examined Haldora, perhaps looking for a bag. ‘Got some spare have you?’

  ‘I’ll make sure there’s some left for you,’ she said, getting a grin of appreciation. ‘I baked it for when the patrol returned, but they’re not back yet.’

  ‘Nope, not yet,’ said Fleinn. He didn’t seem too vexed by their absence. ‘Let’s hope they didn’t leave it to old Skraffi to do the map reading, eh? They could be up to their necks in a mire, right?’

  The thought that they might have got lost in the swamp had not occurred to Haldora – she had convinced herself that any trouble would have been of the green-skinned variety. Now she looked at Fleinn with fresh horror.

  ‘Really? That can happen?’

  ‘Calm down, Haldi, it was just a joke,’ said Fleinn. He stood up and she allowed herself to be guided to the vacated stool. One of the other dwarfs pushed a tankard in her direction and she took a swig: a fruity small beer. ‘Your father has his head bolted on right, he’d never get lost.’

  ‘So why are they late? They might have taken a wrong turn. I heard tales that there can be summer fogs by the marshes. What if they got all turned around or maybe one of them got separated? It could be Grammi or Nakka! We have to go and help them.’

  ‘Let up, just a moment,’ said Fleinn, resting a hand on her shoulder as Haldora made to stand up. She saw him exchange a look with some of the others. ‘I know what you’re like, Haldi, and I don’t want you doing anything daft now.’

  ‘What do you mean? What am I like?’

  ‘You’re not to go running off on your own to look for them,’ said Durk, Fleinn’s younger brother. The notion hadn’t occurred to Haldora until then, but despite the warning it seemed like the only course of action left.

  Fleinn must have seen something in her eye, because his grip on her shoulder grew firmer and he turned to the others.

  ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if a few of us just went for a quick look-see, would it?’

  ‘We’re doing naff all here, Fleinn, as sure as gold glints,’ said Durk. He smiled at Haldora. ‘I reckon it’d be nice to stretch me legs, maybe go for a bit of a walk, eh?’

  There were similar assertions from the others, and with a scraping of stools and thumps of emptied tankards being put on the table, the company assembled.

  ‘All of us?’ asked Fleinn, looking at the two dozen dwarfs. He received shrugs and nods in reply. ‘Fair enough. Lead on, Haldi.’

  She didn’t feel like correcting him, considering how accommodating he was being. They headed back along the wall towards the citadel. The sentries in the halfway tower gave them odd looks but promised to keep an eye out west when Fleinn asked.

  Their progress back along the wall hadn’t gone unobserved and by the time they approached the main citadel there was a contingent of Fundunstulls and a few Grimssons waiting for them.

  ‘Aye aye, here’s trouble,’ said Nurftun, the eldest of them. As the dwarfs from the other clan gathered across the rampart, he pushed his way to the front. ‘Hey, what’s happening here?’

  ‘You can’t just up and leave when you fancy it,’ said one of the Fundunstulls. ‘Where’s your sense of duty?’

  ‘We’re off to look for our patrol,’ said Haldora, stepping up beside Nurftun.

  ‘It isn’t lost yet.’ All eyes moved to the window above the rampart, where Stofrik now leaned out, pipe jutting from the corner of his mouth. ‘I told you, young lady, not to give me no back chat. Now you’re leading a rebellion.’

  ‘Ain’t no rebellion here, Stofrik,’ declared Nurftun. ‘We’re just going for a walk, is all. Might be something happened to our folks, and might be it’s nothing. No harm in going and having a look.’

  ‘You’re supposed to be guarding the west tower,’ Stofrik said. ‘What’s to happen if we get attacked by orcs whilst you’re all out there wandering about willy-nilly?’

  ‘There ain’t going to be no orcs attacking,’ said Nurftun, hands on hips. ‘You’re just being obstinate.’

  ‘Obstinate is it? If there are no orcs, who’s attacked the patrol?’ The Grimssons’ thane seemed sincere. ‘Look here, if there’s orcs about and they have had a set to with the patrol, they could be heading here. I’m not just tugging your beard here. We wait until tomorrow and then look for them properly.’

  A few of the Troggklads and Angboks could see the wisdom of this. They nodded and stroked their beards and looked expectantly at Nurftun. He seemed to be relenting in his determination so Haldora raised her voice, the words for her kin rather than Stofrik.

  ‘It’s our blood kin out there,’ she said. ‘My grandfather and father and many of your cousins, nephews and uncles. If we was out there and in trouble, we would expect them to do everything they could to help.’

  ‘We’d have seen a flare,’ someone pointed out.

  ‘Who was carrying it? What if it got dropped in the water? What if it was faulty?’ Haldora rattled off the questions quickly and didn’t wait for a reply. ‘I know the people that went out and there would be no reason but bad that they’re not back yet. You’re right, Nurftun, I am a bit of a wayward spirit sometimes. Blame that on old Awdhelga’s influence. And I do mean to go and look for Skraffi and Gabbik and Nakka even if you don’t.’ She turned and looked up at Stofrik. ‘I’m not on any of your stupid rosters, so I can come and go as I please.’

  ‘We can’t let you go alone,’ said Nurftun. He looke
d between Haldora and Stofrik, and his expression hardened as he looked up at the thane. ‘We made oaths to kin, but I never swore nothing to you, Grimsson. We’ll be getting our stuff and be on our way, and I’ll thank you to remind your kinfolk not to be bad mannered.’

  ‘As you want it,’ said Stofrik. ‘I’ll be sending a letter to the king about this. I don’t see why he should be paying you for something you ain’t doing.’

  This made a few of the Angboks pause. Giving up their stipend when they had already given up earnings from the mines, breweries and forges was quite a lot to ask. Haldora had to think quickly.

  ‘There’s a standing bounty on goblin and orc ears,’ she declared. ‘I bet if there are greenskins out there we can make more than sitting on our thumbs here.’

  A few looked unconvinced but as the Fundunstulls and Grimssons parted to let them back into the citadel they all followed Haldora and Nurftun. It took a little while for everyone to get their travelling packs together and by the time Haldora had rounded them up once more it was almost mid-afternoon.

  A few of those that were staying behind came to wish them well, including some of the womenfolk. Just as Haldora and the others were leaving, Friedra came out to the gate.

  ‘Where do you think you’re off to, my girl?’ said Haldora’s mother, fists balled at her sides.

  ‘We’re going to look for pa and Grammi,’ she explained.

  ‘I know that, but why are you going? Nurftun and the others can look just as well without you as with.’

  ‘But they’re my family too! I want to help.’

  ‘And what about me, eh?’ Friedra stepped closer and dropped her voice. ‘You’ve got me worried now, that maybe something’s happened to Skraffi and Gabbik. What if something has? What if they’ve been eaten by a wyvern or attacked by orcs?’

  ‘I’ll go and rescue them.’

  ‘And leave me here wondering if I got any close kin left at all?’ Haldora had never seen her mother upset, and there was a glistening in her eyes that wasn’t the sunlight. ‘Is that what you want? Me all left on me own?’