‘Business is concluded,’ he declared. ‘The feast halls are prepared. Eat. Drink.’ He shooed them off, as if tired of seeing their faces.
None took offence, but rather tromped off in their masses to the nearby feast halls, drawn by the emanation of smells.
Snorri was left alone, sitting before his father and the high council. The young prince was surprised to see Ranuld Silverthumb amongst the venerable dwarfs and glowered when the runelord winked at him.
‘Leave us,’ Gotrek said firmly, but with an underlying weariness.
It took many minutes for the council to depart, during which time Snorri locked his gaze with that of his father. Should the two of them ever attempt a staring competition, a victor would be tough to predict and the contest itself would last for days, perhaps even weeks.
When they were properly alone, the sounds of merriment echoing distantly from the feast halls, Gotrek beckoned his son to him.
Fighting to keep his temper, he rasped, ‘Where were you?’
Snorri’s nostrils flared and he licked his lips. ‘Father, I have been on the road for many hours. My stomach is empty. Can we not discuss my absence before there is nowt but scraps at the feast table?’
‘Answer me!’ Gotrek rose to his feet, hands clutching the arms of the throne; their knuckles white, he gripped so hard.
Snorri was about to when Gotrek raised his finger, stopping him. ‘And I warn you, boy, give me any more of your flippancy and I will come down off this throne and beat some respect into you. I swear to Grungni, I will do it,’ he said, settling back down and speaking more calmly. ‘Now where were you?’
Snorri swallowed back a lump of trepidation in his throat. ‘In the Ungdrin Ankor, in the hold halls of Karak Krum.’
The anger returned to the High King’s face, manifesting as a flush of vermillion to his cheeks and nose. His beard bristled.
‘That place is forbidden to the dawi.’
‘Morgrim and I, we only–’
‘With good reason!’ Gotrek bellowed. ‘There are dangers in the dark beneath the world, fell creatures we dawi have no interest or business in provoking.’
‘Provoking?’ said Snorri, becoming bolder. ‘The Karaz Ankor is our sovereign territory. We dawi are masters of earth and stone, is that not what you have always told me?’
‘Aye, it is, but–’
‘Then what do we have to fear of the dark, father? Whatever lurks in the ruins of Karak Krum should be mindful of us, not the other way around.’
Gotrek was shaking his head, descending the throne. ‘You have much to learn, my son. And do not think I won’t have words with your cousin and his father too, though I know whose idea this little adventure was.’
‘I venture beyond our borders because you will not. Every day parts of our hold are surrendered to urk and grobi who have returned in number since the purge. Beneath the halls of Karak Krum, I saw rats, father. Rats! They walked on two legs and spoke with one another.’ Snorri brandished his bandaged hand like a badge of honour. ‘We barely escaped with our lives.’
‘Precisely why you must do as I bid, as your king bids.’
‘Ignoring the enemies at our gates won’t make them disappear, father. We are besieged, if only you would look beyond your fragile peace with the elgi to see it. Or are we to look to them for our protection now? Resting on past laurels, what would my mother think?’
Gotrek raised a fist. His teeth were clenched tight as a sprung trap.
Despite himself, Snorri flinched.
‘I am your father, Snorri, but you should choose your next words very carefully indeed.’
Snorri bowed, and knew he had gone too far. ‘Tromm,’ he uttered. ‘I am sorry, father. I didn’t mean it.’
Unclenching his hand, letting his arm fall by his side, Gotrek sighed and turned his back. ‘Yes, you did.’
‘Please father, I…’
‘It’s all right,’ said Gotrek, waving off his son’s protests like they were flies. ‘Do you not think the same thoughts have entered my head?’ His eyes lingered on Rinnana’s empty seat. ‘How I miss her…’
When he faced Snorri again, there were tears in Gotrek’s eyes but he mastered his voice to stop it from cracking as he put both hands on his son’s shoulders.
‘One day the throne will be yours,’ he said, staring into Snorri’s eyes, ‘and I would have it that you’re ready to rule when that day comes. Being king is not about warring and killing, it is about keeping your realm and maintaining peace for as long as you can. It is the hardest thing you’ll ever need to do as king. Killing is easy. Any fool can make war and slay his enemies. Keeping a realm once it is intact is much more difficult. Don’t be so eager to take up axe and hammer, my son. It might be a while before you can put them down again and I can tell you they grow very heavy in that time.’
‘I am ready, father,’ Snorri said in a small voice, ‘if you would but see it. There is none amongst all the champions of the holds that can best me with axe or crossbow. Nothing scares me, nothing. I would purge the very Ungdrin Ankor of monsters to prove that I am a leader, a worthy successor.’
Gotrek let go, and began to pace.
‘Have you got chuff in your ears, for I can think of no other reason why you have heard nothing I have said.’
‘Father, I have–’
Gotrek stabbed a finger in the direction of the feast halls.
‘Sitting in there, Varnuf of Eight Peaks covets my throne. He would not seize it or try to take it from me by nefarious means, but nonetheless he believes he would be a better High King than I. He wants war with the elgi because it is popular amongst the other kings, and he also seeks to undermine me at every turn. We dawi are honourable, but we are also envious, greedy creatures. One always wants what
