We've doubled the patrols since the last riots and spoiled a lot of people's fun.'
'This is a riot zone?' Calan asked.
'Sometimes I think all of Thorbardin is a riot zone,' Luster told him sadly. 'Every city in the cavern has had trouble of one kind or another during the past few decades… except maybe the Hylar city. The Hylar don't usually get involved in the feuds. But everywhere else, there's always somebody ready to lead a gang against somebody else.'
'What do they fight about?' one of the Ten asked.
'Anything and everything.' Luster shrugged. 'Who knows? My father says the darkest quality of dwarven nature is that we never forget a slight or forgive a grudge. And, of course, in Thorbardin we've had a lot of generations to accumulate grudges.'
'And nothing better to do than feud?' Calan asked.
'For some among us, no. There isn't enough real work to keep everybody busy.'
'There should be,' Hammerhand muttered. 'There would be, if Thorbardin hadn't forgotten why it's here.'
Luster glanced at him, curious about the smoldering anger in the stranger's voice, an anger that seemed to deepen with every step into the cavern realm. 'What does that mean?'
'That's what I came to talk to the council about,' the red-cloak said, his brow furrowed and stormy beneath his polished helm.
The delves of Theibardin spread around them then, and they turned at a wide road that led to the central cavern of Thorbardin. Everywhere, dwarves by the hundreds turned out to watch them pass. Most of the dwarves here were Theiwar, identifiable by their smoke-brown hair and beards, and the wide shoulders and long arms that were characteristic of their clan. But many among them were obviously of mixed blood, with features that came from Daewar, Daergar, Hylar, or Klar lineage.
Generations of intermarriage among the thanes had in many ways strengthened the dwarves of Thorbardin. But it also had started its share of feuds.
Most of the people they passed seemed to harbor no hostility, only curiosity. But here and there they heard taunts and catcalls, and a few stones clanged off the shields of the Home Guards. Then a fist-sized stone from aside and above flew over the raised shield of a guard, straight at Hammerhand.
As casually as the Thorbardin guards had, he deflected the stone with his shield. But even as the missile clattered away, he sensed furious movement directly behind him and heard the unmistakable hum of a sling. He spun around in time to see a small hand dart out of the group, expertly unleashing a woven sling. Its stone whistled through the air, entered a shadowed, open second-level doorway, and a distinct thud was heard. A second later a dwarf staggered into sight there, clung to the doorway for an instant, blood flowing down his face, then toppled forward and fell to the pavement below.
With an oath, Hammerhand lunged and grabbed the small hand with the sling. The hand seemed to be connected to nothing, but as he grabbed it a pretty face appeared, turning toward him.
Swearing beneath his breath, Hammerhand gripped empty-seeming air beside the face and pulled away the emptiness. All around, Thorbardin guards gasped as a complete person was revealed-a startlingly pretty dwarf girl, who returned the red-cloak's angry glare with stubborn eyes and a set, determined chin. 'You see?' she snapped at him. 'It's a good thing I came along. That person tried to stone you.'
Nearby, one of the guards knelt beside the fallen dwarf, then stood and shrugged. 'He's dead,' he called. 'His head's cracked open.'
'Well, well, well,' Luster Redleather declared with open admiration, staring at the girl who was still glaring at Hammerhand. 'And who have we here?'
'Her name is Helta Graywood,' Hammerhand growled. 'Among other things, she is a nuisance.'
Tearing his fascinated eyes from the girl, Luster peered at the red-cloak's dangling hand. It seemed to contain nothing, but some of the fingers had disappeared. 'Magic!' the Daewar muttered. 'What is it? A cloak of some kind?'
'An elf made it,' Calan Silvertoe admitted.
'I see,' Luster said, his blue eyes alight. 'Ah, yes. That accounts for the rumors from the other night. We were reconnoitered, it seems. And by Hammerhand himself.'
'I've been away from Thorbardin for years,' Hammerhand replied. 'I decided to have a look around, privately.'
'You've been away-' Luster started, then grinned and planted his fists on his hips. 'My father is right, then. You
'I was,' Hammerhand admitted. 'But my people gave me a new name.'
'Derkin Hammerhand,' Luster said. 'If s a good name. But why all the mystery? As Harl Thrustweight's son, you could just have walked in openly. You're a citizen.'
'I don't care to be a citizen of Thorbardin,' Derkin rasped.
'Why not?'
'That's what I will speak to the council about. If we can proceed to the council hall without further interruption.'
'The dead Theiwar is one of the local troublemakers,' one of the Home Guards reported. 'If she hadn't brained him, someone else would have, sooner or later.'
'Then there are no claims or challenges?' Luster asked.
The guard shook his head. 'None stated.'
'In that case, lef s get going.' Luster swept his arm in a courtly gesture, bowing slightly to Helta Graywood. 'The rest of the walk will be far more pleasant, with such attractive-such
A bright smile lit the girl's face. 'Thank you,' she said, curtsying. Then the smile was replaced by a frown as Derkiii Hammerhand strode away.
11
The Great hall of Audience of Thorbardin, located in the southern reaches of the fortress complex, was packed to capacity when Derkin Hammerhand arrived there. Word had spread quickly of the impending meeting of the Council of Thanes-a meeting demanded by the strangers from the wilderness-and it looked as though half the dwarves in Thorbardin had decided to attend. Tens of thousands of people packed the rising tiers of cut stone seats that ringed the big, circular cavern, and it sounded as though they were all talking at once. The echoes of their voices could be heard a quarter-mile away in the wide concourse of the Ninth Road tunnel.
But when Luster Redleather and his Home Guards escorted their charges into the great chamber, the place went almost silent.
Only a few in Thorbardin had actually gone to North-gate to see the army of strangers now camped in the meadows beyond, but everybody had heard about them- about the music of their drums, the goods they brought to trade, and about the mysterious leader of the outsiders who resembled an ancient Hylar chieftain and wore the armor of a long-ago time. Speculation was rampant as to whether the strangers beyond Northgate were here just to trade, or also to invade.
Now the one called Hammerhand was here, in Thorbardin, and most of the dwarves in the undermountain realm waited curiously to hear what he had to say.
Runners had preceded them into the Great Hall, and Derkin Hammerhand assumed that those waiting-at least the thane leaders and officials gathered on the raised dais in the center of the cavern-now knew everything that Luster Redleather knew about him, including his full name. The suspicion was confirmed by whispers that reached his ears as he led his group down a sloping aisle, between packed rows of waiting dwarves. 'Derkin,' someone whispered. 'He is Derkin, the son of Harl Thrustweight.'
Followed by Helta Graywood and Calan Silvertoe, and flanked by the Ten, Derkin strode to the dais and
