‘No, no, no,’ snapped the king, scowling and slashing a clawlike hand through the air as if to cut Krondi off from speaking further. ‘No declarations, no oaths or grudgement.’ He exhaled, as if already tired of the exchange when it had barely begun. ‘You have come from Zakbar Varf, yes?’
Shocked at the hill king’s flagrant disregard for the accepted tradition of voicing a grievance, Krondi nodded mutely.
‘And you claim to have been cheated by elgi merchants?’
Krondi found his voice. ‘They said they were weaponsmiths, and it is no claim. It’s true, my lord.’
‘Liege.’
Krondi frowned. ‘Your pardon, my lord?’
‘I am a king, High King of the Skarrenawi, and thus you will address me as liege.’
Taking a deep breath, Krondi said, ‘Yes, I was cheated, my liege, and as Zakbar Varf is an outpost of the skarrenawi I have come to seek reckoning against the elgi.’
Dutifully silent until that moment, Rundin stepped forwards to speak on the merchant’s behalf. ‘I believe there is a case for grudgement here, my king, and can have our reckoners ready in the hour.’
Grum shook his head to dismiss the idea. ‘Not necessary,’ he said, then eyed the other dwarf sternly. ‘Explain to me how you were duped, dawi. What did the elgi do that was so heinous you feel the need to disturb me in my hall and demand restitution? Eh?’
Krondi flushed with anger, but kept his temper. In his battlefield days he had killed for lesser slights against his honour. Shucking off a laden pack he carried on his back, he kneeled and unfurled a leather satchel of blades.
Grum recoiled, scowling. ‘You dare bring weapons into my hall!’
Rundin interceded again. His hands were raised and he glanced at the darkness behind the throne, giving the slightest shake of the head to the guards Krondi now knew were posted there.
‘These are just his wares, my king.’ He looked down at the assorted blades, hammers and hafts. ‘And a poor lot at that.’
Krondi nodded to the other dwarf, finding him to be honourable and just, much more so than his king at any rate.
‘Gold exchanged hands, much of it,’ said Krondi, inadvertently piquing the hill king’s interest, ‘for what was a clutch of battered swords, spears and arrows.’
The weapons were certainly well worn, with chipped blades and blunted heads. Little better than battlefield leavings, it was hard to conceive of why even the most naïve of traders would part with coin for such a sorry cache.
‘Did you not inspect them before purchase?’ asked Grum, incredulous.
‘Of course.’ Krondi lowered his voice at an unspoken rebuke from Rundin. ‘Of course,’ he repeated more calmly, ‘but they did not look as this.’
‘Then how is it that they do now?’
‘What else?’ Krondi said, nonplussed at the hill king’s failure to grasp his meaning. ‘Sorcery. Elgi magic. They enchanted the blades to make them appear to be priceless artefacts.’
Grum tutted. There was more shaking of the head, much stroking of his lank beard. A small gold coin had appeared in his left hand and he was rolling it across his knuckles.
‘A bad business,’ he conceded, ‘for which you have my sympathies.’ Grum beckoned to the shadows. Four burly dwarfs in heavy armour and full-faced helms emerged into the hall.
‘Agreed,’ said Krondi, ‘so what is to be done about it?’
The throne bearers were already lifting the opulent hill king and his throne off the ground when Grum turned to the merchant with a confused expression and said, ‘Nothing. Fools beget what they beget. I will not waste coin on sending reckoners on a pointless errand. Do I look profligate to you, dawi?’
‘Thievery has been done to me!’ Incredulous at what he was hearing, Krondi stepped forwards, only for Rundin to impede his path. Instead, he shouted over the warrior’s massive armoured shoulders. ‘Grudgement must be made…’ Krondi scowled as the king was slowly led away and called after him, ‘If not against the elgi then against you, Skarnag Grum.’
The hill king raised his hand and the bearers stopped.
‘Heed this warning, dawi. Do not return to Kazad Kro and do not threaten me with grudgement in my own halls. Begone, or I will have you thrown out of my gates and off my rock.’
‘The reckoners shall hear of this,’ Krondi vowed, marshalling his anger but only barely. ‘I shall seek the counsel of the High King of Karaz-a-Karak.’
Grum’s bearers were moving again, the king’s voice growing fainter as they disappeared down the long hall towards his private chambers. ‘Do so with my blessing, for Kazad Kro will not hear your grievances further. Rundin,’ he called, ‘I am retiring to my counting house. Escort the dawi out.’
Rundin was about to oblige when Krondi snarled at him.
‘Lay hands on me and it’ll be the last thing you do.’
Palms up, Rundin said, ‘Leave without a fuss and there’ll be no need to.’
Krondi had his back to him when he replied. ‘How you can serve a king such as Grum I cannot fathom. All dawi are greedy and selfish bastards, but he is something worse.’
‘He is my king,’ said Rundin.
‘If that is the best you can say of him, you are being loyal to the point of blindness.’
At that Krondi stalked out of the hall.
Rundin was left alone with his thoughts. Silent as a tomb in the grand hall, the distant chink of coins being counted in King Grum’s treasure room clanged brashly. Beneath it, running as an undercurrent, was another sound. At first it was difficult to place, but Rundin listened hard and was rewarded. Laughter. It was laughter that he heard. Just the odd chuckle, a half-stifled giggle but which soon gave way to raucous hooting and guffawing.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wrath and Ruin
Skirting the Worlds Edge, the caravan of wagons was deep into the mountain passes now. Despite the
