both.'
He studied her profile curiously. What manner of dwarf was this commander? She did not fit his mental picture of a mountain dwarf, and her eyes and hair did not seem to match the derro around her. Yet she was obviously a leader, and her rank indicated that she'd been recognized and re warded for that ability.
They left the huge cavern and entered a maze of tunnel like streets. Uncountable side streets led away from the ave nue, and mountain dwarves moved quickly and quietly along them. Overhead, perhaps twenty feet above, the street was capped by a stone ceiling. The buildings to either side extended from floor to ceiling. Counting the windows,
Flint guessed that most of them contained three or even four interior floors. Some of these buildings appeared to be built from stone and brick, while others seemed to be carved from the solid mountain. All of them, however, were deco rated with the heavy, brooding stonework that character ized derro cities. All dwarven architecture tended to be in tricately carved and sculpted, but the derro favored a style that seemed almost oppressive, palpably dark, to Flint.
As they wound along the rows of stone buildings, Flint counted mostly shops and houses. He heard the unmistak able noise of rowdy drinking from taverns, the sounds of households preparing for the day, the rumble of manufac turing houses and craft shops — all the bustle of a major city.
'So this is Thorbardin,' he said, his wonder almost over shadowing his predicament.
'One of the cities of Thorbardin,' his escort corrected him. 'City of the Theiwar of Thane Realgar.'
They marched down a wide avenue in almost total dark ness, the only light coming from small wall torches, and shed by fires in hearths and cookstoves glowing in the build ings. Flint had no trouble seeing in the dark, and he sus pected that the derro were even more at home in it than he was. This city was as large as any Flint had ever been in, and it was only one of many! For the first time Flint began to grasp the enormity of the mountain dwarf kingdom.
Finally they turned off the avenue into what looked like a side street. A clanking of metal suddenly drew Flint's eyes upward in alarm, fresh with the memory of the cage that had snared him earlier. The noise did come from a cage of sorts, but this one was an enclosure of metal bars suspended from a heavy chain. With a crash the contraption settled into a square frame of metal that stood before them. The frawl stepped forward and opened the cage.
'What's this?' growled Flint. 'An underground cell isn't good enough?' A derro prodded him forward sharply while the captain looked at him in surprise. 'It's a lift. You really are a barbarian, aren't you? Step in. We're riding to level three, for an… interview.' She and two guards joined him in the cage.
'Then what?' Flint scowled, trying to cover his nervous ness as the cage suddenly lurched upward. The mountain dwarves seemed to be indifferent to the gently swaying movement.
'That's up to Pitrick.' She looked into his face for the first time. 'You should have anticipated the consequences of your actions,' she added angrily.
'Who is 'Pitrick?' '
'Chief adviser to Thane Realgar.'
They rode upward in silence for a few moments. The cage passed into a hollow cylinder in the bedrock, then emerged onto a flat platform, perfectly square and approximately a hundred feet on each side. The ceiling was quite high, nearly at the limit of Flint's vision in the darkness. It appeared to be a natural cavern roof, not an excavated ceiling, though how it came to be suspended atop four square walls puzzled
Flint. Each of the walls held a sturdy gate, and each gate was guarded by a pair of derro wearing the same purple plumage as the sentries in the tunnel.
The cage lurched to a halt, and one of the derro swung the gate open. 'Out, now,' ordered the captain. She and the guards stepped behind Flint. The captain approached one of the doors, but stopped when Flint called to her.
'Wait!' the hill dwarf shouted.
The frawl turned and looked at him curiously. He noticed that several of her coppery curls had fallen over one of her eyes. Impatiently, she pushed the offending locks away.
'What is it?' she asked.
'Might I know your name?' Flint felt compelled to ask the question.
She hesitated a moment, and Flint thought her face soft ened in the bare light.
'You might,' she said, turning on a polished heel. She marched to a gate in one of the walls, which the derro guards hastily opened. They just as hastily closed it behind her, and she disappeared from Flint's sight.
'Captain Cyprium to see you, my lord,' intoned the burly derro sergeant who guarded Pitrick's door.
'Send her in.' The voice, from within the apartment, sounded to Perian like the rasp of a reptile. She stepped through the door, and it was quickly closed behind her.
'Do you have news, or is this a visit for pleasure?' Pitrick inquired. Sitting in a hard granite armchair, wearing a robe of golden silk, the adviser looked up with interest at the cap tain's entrance.
'We've captured a hill dwarf at the tunnel,' she reported flatly.
Pitrick sprang to his feet, his grotesque frame moving with surprising agility. 'Excellent!' he cried, clapping his hands in delight.
'He seems pretty harmless,' Perian added.
'Your opinion is of no interest to me,' sneered Pitrick. 'I will decide his status, and his fate.'
'Shouldn't you take him to the thane?'
The hunchback limped over and looked up at her with a cruel grin. Now Pitrick's face pressed close to hers, and the stench of his breath brought the usual revulsion. 'His Excel lency has given me control of all matters relating to the tun nel and the trade route. I have no need to consult him. And need I remind you, my warrior pet, that 'matters relating to the tunnel' now include you.'
Pitrick turned away from her. 'I will see the prisoner, but not here. Take him to the tunnel beyond the North Warrens — you know the place.' Perian felt sick to her stom ach. Yes, she knew the place.
'Oh,' added Pitrick, twisting to face her again. His grin had eroded to a thin, sly smile. 'Catch one of those Aghar that forever raid the garbage dump. Bring him along with the hill dwarf. Have them all at the tunnel in four hours.'
'A gully dwarf? Why?' The Aghar, or gully dwarves, were common pests in Thorbardin. They were the lowest form of dwarf, so dirty, smelly, and stupid that few of the other dwarves could tolerate their presence. The Aghar lived in' secret lairs and often emerged to rummage through garbage dumps and refuse piles, seizing 'treasures' that they would hasten back to their lairs. But they're harmless little creatures, Perian thought.
'Never mind why!' barked Pitrick, startling her with his vehemence. 'You will obey me! Or — ' His voice dropped ominously '- or you will pay the price for insubordina tion.'
The sudden glow in his wild eyes left no doubt in Perian's mind as to what that price would be.
Flint was startled by the look on the Theiwar captain's face as she emerged from the gate and stomped back to the cage. She would neither meet the hill dwarf's eyes nor an swer any of his questions, except one.
'My name is Perian Cyprium,' she told him.
'Flint Fireforge,' he said simply.
The cage took them back to the street level, where they marched down the avenue, around a corner, and along sev eral smaller streets. Everywhere Flint saw busy derro, mov ing quickly and silently about their business. Never had he seen a place that was so populous, yet seemed so exception ally ominous and grim.
They came to a barracks building where several platoons of purple-plumed guards stood or lounged about a court yard. Here Flint was thrown into a cell, where he sat idly and undisturbed for several hours.
When a pair of derro guards eventually pulled him out and prodded him into the street, he was greeted by Perian and a half-dozen guardsmen. The latter, he saw, held in tow a miserable-looking gully dwarf. The little fellow's nose was running and his wide, staring eyes were red and bloodshot.
He looked fearfully from one mountain dwarf to another.
Flint was surprised to see an Aghar here, but no sooner had Flint joined the gully dwarf than Perian barked, 'Follow me,' leaving no room for questions. She led them on a long march, but stayed well to the front so Flint had no chance to talk to her.
