the faraway ridge, and moving down its visible slope, disappearing into some valley below.
'A herd of bison?' one of the Daergar suggested.
'Not likely.' The Hylar shook his head. 'They're moving in the wrong direction for bison in this season. I think those are people. Maybe a trade caravan?'
'From where?' the Daewar protested. 'They're coming from the west. There's nothing out there but wilderness.'
'There are Neidar settlements.'
A Theiwar shook his head, frowning with intuition. 'Those are people, all right, but they're not Neidar.'
'The only dwarves outside Thorbardin in this season are Neidar.' The Daewar frowned. 'Do you suppose those are humans or something?'
'What would that many humans be doing out in the wilderness?' a Daergar puzzled. 'And why would they be coming here?'
'Why do humans ever come here? To attack Thorbardin.'
'They've been trying and failing for centuries. That last time-what was it, four or five years ago? Lord Kane or some such name? He brought a whole army all the way from Daltigoth. But they didn't get in. They just banged on Northgate for a while, then gave up and went away.'
'But they came from the north. These people are coming from the west. Maybe they don't know that they can't get in. Or maybe they've forgotten. I hear humans are very forgetful.'
The Hylar had brought out a far-seeing tube-a brass cylinder with glass lenses mounted in it-and they took turns peering through it. But the distant specks were too far away even for magnified vision. Then, after a time, there was nothing to look at. All of the moving specks had disappeared from view, hidden by intervening rises.
'I think we had better signal,' the Hylar decided, turning toward the enclosed cave.
'Signal what?' a Daergar scoffed cynically. 'Do we say something moved, and we saw it but we don't know what it was? I say we wait and get a better look.'
The Hylar went on into the cave, and returned with a large vibrar and a pair of wooden mallets. But he set the drum aside and crouched on the ledge, waiting. 'We'll take a better look when they're closer,' he said. 'But then, whatever or whoever is out there, we signal. Any time several thousand of anything approach Thorbardin, the gatekeepers ought to know about it.'
'I agree.' The Daergar who had spoken crouched beside the Hylar, his face hidden by the slitted iron mask his dark-sighted people favored in daylight. 'But there's plenty of time. There are still a lot of miles out there, between us and whoever is coming to call.'
The sun stood directly overhead when the strangers appeared again, topping another rise in the mountain terrain. Though still far away, they were closer now by several miles. And the direction of their line now was obvious. They were moving south of east, directly toward Thorbardin. The Hylar sentinel put the seeing-tube to his eye, peered through it, and grunted, 'By Reorx! Those are dwarves!'
Beside him, the Daewar blinked in surprise. 'Dwarves? What dwarves? Who are they?'
'I can't tell,' the Hylar said, squinting into the seeing-tube. 'Neidar, I suppose. All the other thanes are in Thorbardin. But so many? There are thousands of them! I've never seen more than a few dozen Neidar traveling together. Here, see for yourself.'
The Daewar took the device and peered through it. Magnified, the distant horde was still tiny, barely identifiable, but there was no doubt: they were dwarves. He tried to estimate their number and gave up. It was as the Hylar had said. There were thousands of them. Several thousands. And they marched as an army marches- distinct companies in orderly ranks, maintaining their formations despite the rugged terrain.
In the lead and on both flanks rode mounted companies, brightly clad dwarven figures mounted on big horses, and among those afoot were hundreds of other large beasts, some pulling carts, some laden with packs.
Here and there among the strangers, the high sun glinted on bright armor-the familiar flash of metal helmets, shields, and body plating-but what was more striking were the bright colors of fine garments. Each group and company seemed to have its own combination of colors. In one unit, yellow and brown were prominent. In another, green and black dominated, and in still another, blue and tan. Only among those in the middle of the array-those walking with the carts and pack animals — did there seem no pattern of colors, though even there bright hues were plentiful.
'They dress colorfully,' the Daewar noted, his gaze dropping to the very head of the moving band. At the point of the first mounted unit, whose preferred colors seemed to be red and gray, rode a figure whose helm and breastplate reflected the sunlight like a mirror. He wore a cloak of bright red, and the same red was used in the trappings of his horse. The sentinel peered, trying to see more detail, then handed the tube to another volunteer, one of the Theiwar. 'What do you make of that one in the lead?' he asked. 'I don't think he's a Neidar. For that matter, none of them look like Neidar to me.'
The Theiwar gazed through the tube's lenses, then handed the device back to the Hylar. 'You look,' he said. 'See if that's somebody you know.'
The Hylar squinted, then shook his head. 'I can't make out any features at this distance. Why did you think I might know him?'
'I don't know.' The Theiwar shrugged. 'There's just something about him that reminds me of Hylar.'
'When you've seen one Hylar, you've seen them all,' the Daewar chuckled. 'Of course, that applies to Theiwar, too. You people have arms as long as your legs.'
'You can keep your opinions to yourself, gold-molder,' the Theiwar growled good-naturedly.
The Hylar sentinel took another look, then passed the seeing-tube along and picked up his vibrar, hitching its leather sling over his shoulder. 'We've seen enough to signal the gate,' he said, gripping his mallets.
A masked Daergar turned toward him. 'What are you going to say is coming, a caravan or an army?'
'That mob could be either one,' another sentinel said, squinting through the tube. 'Or it could be a little of both. Reorx! Look at all that armor!'
Ignoring them, the Hylar stepped to the edge of the sentinel ledge, raised his mallets, and began a deep, thunderous tattoo on the big vibrar's taut head, using the elaborate drum-talk his ancestors had brought to these mountains centuries before. The mountainside resounded with the voice of the drum. About a minute later, another drum-around on the south face of Sky's End-took up the song, echoing and relaying it. Moments later another drum joined in, farther away, and then another, a growing chorus of deep, thrusting rhythms, a string of receding thunders relaying the message toward the north gate of Thorbardin, many miles away on the lower slopes of Cloudseeker Peak. Some minutes passed as the drums sang, then the Theiwar who was still watching the strangers through the seeing-tube said, 'Those people out there have stopped. They must have heard the drums.'
'What are they doing?' the Daewar asked.
'I can't tell. Something is going on in that lead unit, but I can't see what.'
The Hylar sentinel continued his tattoo for a time, then lowered the drum and listened. From the south came a brief response, and he nodded. 'Message received,' he said. 'Northgate is alerted.'
He was heading into the shelter cave to put up his vibrar when the air rang again with distant thunder. He turned abruptly, listening. The sound was coming not from the south, not from Thorbardin, but from the west, and the message of it made his mouth drop open. 'It's them!' he shouted, pointing. 'The strangers-they are signaling with drums!'
For a moment, all six sentinels stared in wonder at the distant assemblage. It was incredible that strangers, coming from the western wilderness, should have such drums. It was even more incredible that they would know how to use them. Even among the thanes of Thorbardin, few dwarves other than the Hylar ever mastered the vibrar signal-song.
The sentinels stared across the miles, listening, then the Daewar turned to the Hylar. 'Well, what do they say?'
'They speak to Thorbardin,' the Hylar said slowly. 'They say greetings from Hammerhand, to the chieftains and the Council of Thanes. They say Hammerhand comes to trade. They say Hammerhand will make camp below Northgate, and invites the trade wardens out to inspect his goods. He also says that he will meet with the Council of Thanes.'
'Who is Hammerhand?' the Daewar puzzled. 'I've never heard the name. Have you?'
None of them had. 'Whoever he is, he's arrogant,' a Theiwar said. 'An outsider, requesting audience with
