Riverwind

“No smell,” he said.

“It doesn't look real,” Riverwind remarked. He rubbed the petals with his thumb. “I'd swear it's painted!”

The way was carefully laid out by fitted blocks of gray granite, so old and worn that the wagon's wheels fit neatly into ruts in the stone made by countless wheels before. The smoky smell was much stronger on the plain. It was enough to make Riverwind's nostrils burn.

“What is that odor?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Is there an odor?” Vvelz replied lightly.

“The giant smells our foundries,” Karn said contemptuously. “They displease his delicate nose.”

“Do you have many foundries?”

“Indeed, yes. We make everything we need of metal or minerals,” the sorcerer said.

The grassland ended. On each side of the road, dwarfing wagon, elves, and men alike, were great conical piles of broken rock and cinders. These were mine tailings, Vvelz explained. This was the unusable residue that remained after the ores were fired to give up their metal.

“So much of it,” Catchflea marveled. The tailings rose one hundred feet and more, and were over twice as wide at the base. Hundreds of piles crowded alongside the road, sometimes spilling over onto the granite pavement. The diggers tramped on, even when the glassy cinders cut through their flimsy copper mesh sandals. Riverwind saw the bloody footprints and said nothing. He ached to up-end the wagon and its haughty occupants. His hands clenched into fists. But no, Catchflea was right. Prudence demanded he keep his temper in check.

The tailings went on for miles. Hour after hour they traveled, and Riverwind felt oppressed by the dismal scene. It was so poisoned, so lifeless. While the soldiers and Vvelz sipped from silver bottles, the diggers' feet churned up a cloud of thick gray dust. It powdered their black garments. Where sweat ran down their skin, dust collected, streaking their arms and faces with noxious, gritty paste. Legs aching, Riverwind longed for the clear blue sky and fresh breezes of the upper world.

Around a bend they came upon a gang of diggers adding to the mine rubbish. A slab-sided hopper on iron wheels was being tipped forward by a dozen elves equipped with long metal rods. They braced their rods against the top lip of the hopper and pushed. The car swung up, axles screeching. A shower of blackened clinker poured out on the side of a mound, which was already fifty feet tall. Other diggers swarmed over the half-emptied hopper. Riverwind and Catchflea stared at the filthy laborers as they walked past. The diggers returned the gaze with blank, humorless faces. To his dismay, Riverwind noted that there were at least twelve more hoppers brimming with dirt and ash lined up behind the first one. The diggers had many hours of sweaty, back-breaking labor ahead of them.

The region of tailings abruptly ended with a high stone wall. There was no gate to block the road, only a wide opening in the wall. The wall itself was easily sixty feet high, and ten feet thick at the base. All sorts of stones had been used in its construction.

“A strange rampart,” Riverwind said. “What does it defend?”

“Nothing,” Karn said. “The Hall of Arms protects Hest with sword, not with stone walls.”

Vvelz cleared his throat. “The giant asks a legitimate question. Tell him what the wall is for.”

“I see no reason to tell our business to any overgrown foreigner who asks,” Karn snapped.

“It isn't a state secret,” Vvelz said dryly.

“It's to hold back the dirt, yes?” said Catchflea. “The remains of your mining?”

Vvelz nodded. “Precisely. In times past, the tailings crept too close to the city. Our springs were poisoned and our crops endangered. Then the wise master of the Hall of Light, the venerated Kosti, decreed that a wall be built to hold back the debris.”

“And when was this?” asked Riverwind, looking back to survey the piles of tailings.

“One thousand, six hundred and forty-two years ago.”

Catchflea tripped in the wheel rut, he was so astonished. Riverwind steadied the old soothsayer. “I had no idea this place was so long settled,” he said.

“Ah, we are a very ancient people,” Vvelz said. Karn folded his arms and made growling noises.

Inside the wall, the scenery was brighter. They were almost directly under the great bronze lantern that lighted the entire cavern. Another wall loomed ahead, lower and thinner. This wall was dotted with nasty spikes along the top. As the wagon drew abreast of the gap in the second wall, Vvelz halted the diggers. They shuffled to a stop and lay over the wagon handles, gasping for breath.

“Vartoom,” said Vvelz, lifting his hand in a graceful gesture.

The city merged with the cavern wall to the left, but the panorama Riverwind and Catchflea beheld was astonishing. The rising ground was sculpted into broad terraces, and on these level platforms the dwellings of the Hestites were built. The lowest terrace was a crowded warren of rough limestone and basalt, with small, round windows and smudgy, smoking chimneys. The intermediate levels-of which Riverwind counted seven-were more orderly arrangements of white-veined granite. These houses were carved on the outside with graceful fluting, whorls, and bas-reliefs. The doors were of brightly burnished copper.

But it was the topmost terraces that caused the Que-Shu men to gape in awe. Two hundred feet above the basest dwellings rose spires of translucent alabaster and marble. The spires joined together in complexly carved facades, designed to look like knotted cords or the roots of a gigantic tree. The massive columns climbed upwards many hundred feet to the roof of the cavern, there growing into the ancient, vibrant stalactites.

“Amazing,” said Catchflea at last.

“There is no other city that can rival it,” Vvelz said proudly. “As diamonds and precious metals are found underground, so the crown jewel of Krynn is found in this cavern.”

He turned back to the panting diggers and once more called to them in his telepathic voice: Attend and be quick! Push! Though Riverwind heard Vvelz's command, it seemed less intense than before. Perhaps he was getting used to it. The wagon creaked along with Riverwind and Catchflea in its wake.

Ramps led from the cavern floor up to the first terrace level. The tired diggers faltered on the slope. None of the soldiers stepped out to lighten the load.

“Can't you do better?” Karn said impatiently to Vvelz. “Spur them on.” The sorcerer clenched his upraised fists.

Push! Ignore the strain-sweet rest awaits you in the city. Push! Push! He lashed at them psychically. The diggers buried their cut and bleeding feet in the dry cinders of the roadbed. They churned and writhed at the handles, but the grade was too much for them. Finally, Vvelz relented and summoned other diggers to assist.

Listen who can

Come hither and bend

Your backs to our task.

The vassals of Her Highness

Are needed with haste.

Thirty elves, all clad in digger black, filed down the ramp. Some got behind the wagon to push, others packed in around the crowded trace poles to help pull.

Riverwind dug an elbow in Catchflea's side. “I'm going to help,” he said. The old man unhesitatingly followed the tall warrior. They leaned over the backs of the shorter diggers and planted their hands against the rear of the wagon. The diggers paid them no mind, but the soldiers snickered and made rude comments.

“Ugh-pay them no mind,” Catchflea said. “Oof!”

Riverwind narrowed his eyes at the soldiers. “No proper warrior despises hard labor,” he grunted. “No man is better than the work he does with his own hands.”

The slope eventually vanished, and the wagon rolled forward in a rush. Vvelz dispersed the diggers and stepped down from his place. Karn and the soldiers followed.

“Why have we stopped?” Karn asked.

“I thought it would be instructive for the giants to see the city in a more leisurely fashion,” Vvelz replied smoothly. “We can always get more drudges if we need them.”