Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (49 page)

"Him say he like our dwarf spirits," Ponce said importantly,

his face shining, though this might have been due to the fact that

it was smeared with grease from the goose he had been basting.

"Him say we make fine dwarf spirits. You want try?" he asked

Gilthas. "Put hair up your nose."

Kerian and the elf departed, taking the gully dwarf with

them. Gilthas sat watching the candle flame flicker with the stir-

ring of the air. Beneath his feet came that strange shivering in the

ground, as if the very world trembled. All around him was dark-

ness. The candle's flame was the only light, and it could be extin-

guished in a breath. So much could go wrong. Even now, Marshal

Medan might be entering Gilthas's bedroom. The Marshal might

be ripping up the pillows from the bed, arresting Planchet, de-

manding to know the whereabouts of the king.

Gilthas was suddenly very tired. He was tired of this duplici-

tous life, tired of the lies and the deceptions, tired of the fact that

he was constantly performing. He was always on stage, never al-

lowed a moment to rest in the wings. He could not even sleep

well at night, for he was afraid he might say something in his

sleep that would bring about his downfall.

Not that he would be the one to suffer. Prefect Palthainon

would see to that. So would Medan. They needed Gilthas on the

throne, jerking and twitching to the strings they pulled. If they

found out that he'd cut those strings, they would simply reattach

them. He would remain on the throne. He would remain alive.

Planchet would die, tortured until he was forced to reveal all he

knew. Laurana might not be executed but she would certainly be

exiled, deemed a dark elf like her brother. Kerian might well be

captured, and Medan had proclaimed publicly the terrible death

the Lioness would suffer should she ever fall into his hands.

Gilthas would not suffer, except that he would be forced to

watch those he loved most in the world suffer and know he was

powerless to help them. That would be, perhaps, the greatest tor-

ment of all.

Out of the darkness crept his old companions: fear, self-doubt,

self-hatred, self-loathing. He felt them lay their cold hands upon

him and reach inside and twist his gut and wring the icy sweat

from his shivering body. He heard their wailing voices cry to him

warnings of doom, shout prophecies of death and destruction. He

was not equal to this task. He dared not continue this course of

action. It was foolhardy. He was putting his people at risk. He

was certain they had been discovered. Medan knew everything.

Perhaps if Gilthas went back now, he could make it all right. He

would crawl into his bed and they would never know he had

been gone. . . .

"Gilthas," said a stem voice.

Gilthas started. He looked wildly into a face he did not know.

"My husband, II Kerian said gently.

Gilthas shut his eyes, a shudder passed through his body.

Slowly he unclenched the hands that had tightened to fists. He

made himself relax, forced the tension to ease from his body,

forced himself to quit shaking. The darkness that had momentar-

ily blinded him retreated. The candle's flame that was Kerian

burned brightly, steadily. He drew in a deep, shivering breath.

"I am well, now," he said.

"Are you certain?1I Kerian asked." The thane waits in the ad-

jacent room. Should I stall him?"

"No, the attack has passed," Gilthas said, swallowing to rid

his mouth of the taste of bile. "You drove away the demons. Give

me a moment to make myself presentable. How do I look?"

"As if you had seen a wraith," said Kerian. "But the dwarf

will not notice anything amiss. All elves seem pasty-faced to

them."

Gilthas caught hold of his wife, held her close.

"Stop it!" she protested, half-laughing and half in earnest.

"There's no time for this now. What if someone saw us?"

"Let them," he said, casting caution aside. "I am tired of lying

to the world. You are my strength, my salvation. You saved my

life, my sanity. When I think back to what I was, a prisoner to

those same demons, I wonder how you ever came to love me."

"I looked through the cell bars and saw the man locked

inside," Kerian replied, relaxing in her husband's arms, if only for

a moment. "I saw his love for his people. I saw how he suffered

because they suffered and he felt helpless to prevent their pain.

Love was the key. All I did was put it into the door and turn the

lock. You have done all the rest."

She slid out of his embrace and was, once again, the warrior

queen. "Are you ready? We should not keep the high king wait-

ing longer."

"I am ready," Gilthas said.

He took in another deep breath, shook back his hair and,

walking straight and tall, entered the room.

"His Majesty, Speaker of the Sun, Gilthas of the House of

Solostaran," Kerian announced formally.

The dwar£ who was enjoying a mug of dwarf spirits, placed

the mug on a table and lowered his head in a gesture of respect.

He was tall for a dwarf and looked far older than his true age, for

his hair had gone prematurely gray, his beard was gray streaked

with white. His eyes were bright and clear and youthfuL his gaze

sharp and penetrating. He kept his gaze fixed on Gilthas, seemed

to bore through the elf's breastbone as if he would see straight

into his heart.

"He has heard rumors of me," Gilthas said to himself. "He

wonders what to believe. Am I a weak dish rag to be wrung out

by every hand? Or am I truly the ruler of my people as he is the

ruler of his?"

"The High King of the Eight Clans," said Kerian, "Tam Bel-

lowgranite."

The dwarf was himself a half-breed. Much as Gilthas, who

had human blood in his veins, Tam was a product of a liaison

between a Hylar dwarf-the nobles of dwarfdom-and a Daer-

gar, the dark dwarves. After the Chaos War, the Thorbardin

dwarves had worked with humans to rebuild the fortress of Pax

Tharkas. It seemed that the Thorbardin dwarves might actually

once more begin to interact with the other races, including their

brethren, the hill dwarves, who, due to a feud that dated back to

the Cataclysm, had long been shut out of the great dwarven

kingdom beneath the mountain.

But with the coming of the great dragons and the death and

destruction they brought, the dwarves had gone back under-

ground. They had sealed up the gates of Thorbardin once again,

and the world had lost contact with them. The Daergar had taken

advantage of the turmoil to try to seize the rulership of Thor-

bardin, plunging that nation into a bloody civil war. Tam Bellow-

granite was a hero of the war, and when it came time to pick up

the pieces, the thanes had turned to him for leadership. He had

found a people divided, a kingdom tottering on the edge of ruin

when he came to his rule. He had placed that kingdom upon a

firm foundation. He had united the warring clans behind his lead-

ership. Now he was about to contemplate another step that would

be something new in the annals of the dwarves of Thorbardin.

Gilthas stepped forward and bowed deeply, with sincere re-

spect. "High King," he said speaking flawless Dwarvish, a lan-

guage he had learned from his father. "1 am honored to meet you

at last. I know you do not like to leave your home beneath the

mountain. Your journey was a long one and perilous, as are all

journeys made in the world during these dark times. I thank you

for making the journey, for undertaking to meet me here this day

to close and formally seal our agreement."

The high king nodded his head, tugging on his beard, a sign

that he was pleased with the words. The fact that the elf spoke

Dwarvish had already impressed Tam. Gilthas had been right.

The dwarf king had heard stories of the elf king's weak and in-

decisive nature. But Tam had learned over the years that it was

never wise to judge a man until, as the dwarves would say, you

had seen the color of his beard.

"The journey was pleasant. It is good to breathe the air above

the ground for a change," Tam replied. "And now, let us get

down to business." He looked at Gilthas shrewdly. "I know how

you elves love to palaver. I believe that we can dispense with the

niceties."

"I am part human," Gilthas replied with a smile. "The impa-

tient part, or so they tell me. I must be back in Qualinost before

tomorrow's dawning. Therefore I will begin. This matter has been

under negotiation for a month. We know where we stand, I

believe? Nothing has changed?"

"Nothing has changed with us," said Tarn. "Has anything

changed with you?"

"No, it has not. We are in agreement then." Gilthas dropped

the formal tone. "You have refused to accept any payment, sir. I

would not permit this, but that I know there is not wealth

enough in all of Qualinesti to compensate you and your people

for what you are doing. I know the risks that you run. I know

that this agreement has caused controversy among your people.

I guess that it has even threatened your rule. And I can give you

nothing in return except for our thanks-our eternal and undy-

ing thanks."

"Nay, lad," said Tam, flushing in embarrassment. Dwarves

dislike being praised. "What I do will bring good to my people as

well as yours. Not all of them can see that at this point, but they

will. Too long we have lived hidden away from the world be-

neath the mountain. The notion came to me when civil war

erupted in Thorbardin, that we dwarves might well kill each

other off and who would ever know? Who would grieve for us?

None in this world. The caverns of Thorbardin might fall silent in

death, darkness overtake us, and there would be none to speak a

word to fill that silence, none to light a lamp. The shadows would

close over us, and we would be forgotten.

"I determined I would not allow that to happen. We dwarves

would return to the world. The world would enter Thorbardin.

Of course," Tam said, with a wink and sip of dwarf spirits, "I .

could not thrust such change upon my people overnight. It has

taken me long years to bring them around to my way of thinking,

and even then many are still wagging their beards and stamping

their feet over it. But we are doing the right thing. Of that I am

convinced. We have already started work on the tunnels," he

added complacently.

"Have you? Before the papers were signed?" Gilthas asked

amazed.

Tarn took a long gulp, belched contentedly, and grinned.

"Bah! What are papers? What are signatures? Give me your hand,

King Gilthas. That will seal our bargain."

"I give you my hand, King Tam, and I am honored to do so,"

Gilthas replied, deeply touched. "Is there any point on which I

can reassure you? Do you have any questions to ask of me?"

"Just one, lad," said Tam, putting down his mug and wiping

his chin with his sleeve. "Some of the thanes, most notably the

Neidar-a suspicious lot if I do say so--have said repeatedly that

if we allow elves to enter Thorbardin, they will turn on us and

seize our realm and make it their new home. You and I know that

will not happen," Tarn added, raising his hand to forestall

Gilthas's quick protest, "but what would you say to my people to

convince them that this tragedy would not come about?"

"I would ask the thanes of the Neidar," said Gilthas, smiling,

"if they would build their homes in trees. What would be their

answer, do you think, sir?"

"Hah, hah! They would as soon think of hanging themselves

by their beards," Tam said, chuckling.

"Then, by the same token, we elves would as soon think of

hanging ourselves by our ears as to live in a hole in the ground.

No insult to Thorbardin intended," Gilthas added politely.

"None taken, lad. I will tell the Neidar exactly what you have

said. That should blow the foam off their ale!" Tam continued to

chuckle.

"To speak more clearly, I vow on my honor and my life that

the Qualinesti. will use the tunnels only for the purpose of re-

moving those in peril from the dragon's wrath. We have made

arrangements with the Plains people to shelter the refugees until

such time as we can welcome them back to their own homeland."

"May that day be quick to dawn," said Tam gravely, no longer

laughing. He regarded Gilthas intently. "1 would ask why you do

not send your refugees to the land of your cousins, the realm of

Silvanesti, but I hear that it is closed and barred to you. The elves

there have placed some sort of magical fortress around it."

"The forces of Alhana Starbreeze continue to try to find some

way to enter the shield," Gilthas said. "We must hope that they

will eventually find a way, not only for our sakes, but for the sake

of our cousins, as well. How long do you believe the work will

take for the tunnel to reach Qualinost?"

" A fortnight, not more," said Tam easily.

" A fortnight, sir! To dig a tunnel over sixty-five miles through