find anyone with skill in braiding in this heathen land.”
Blaggard’s eyes drifted towards where Cleathelm had piled his clothes but he couldn’t make out the heavy bulge of the gold and gem filled purse and so turned back to the dwarf, “It’s no matter. You won’t be making an appearance before the High Council any time soon. After we kill Dol and his friends and take the Hammer of Fire it will take us years to get back to Craggen Steep.”
“It only took a few days from the portal to here,” said Clethelm rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the goblin, “so why should it take longer to get back, idiot?”
“Do you know how to use the portals without help from Corancil’s mages?” said Blaggard almost shaking his head in disbelief at the stupidity of his companion.
Silence greeted this proclamation, “That’s true,” said the dwarf after a prolonged pause. “That means I’ll have the Hammer of Fire for my own use for years,” he mused aloud. “I can make a name for myself so that when we do return to Craggen Steep they’ll have to appoint me to the High Council. If you continue to show me loyalty then I’ll consider taking you along with me as my chamber boy. What do you say to that my, little friend?”
“I would be honored,” said Blaggard just as a knock came at the door and a young boy’s voice shouted through in an unknown language. “That’ll be our bath,” went on the half-breed and began to strip off his travel worn clothes.
“You understand the lingo?” said Cleathelm and wandered over to the door to open it.
“What else could it be?” said Blaggard.
“How am I to know?” said Cleathelm, but the boy at the door blathered out something and distracted the dwarf. Blaggard finished stripping off his own clothes leaving only a pair of tattered shorts that barely covered his private parts. Seconds later the half-goblin walked out the door and followed the boy down the hall leaving Cleathelm standing at the door.
“Are you coming, Cleathelm, or do you want to sit in your own filth for a while yet,” said Blaggard with a glance over his shoulder.
Within a minute the two were led into a basement room filled with thick steam as several boys busied themselves pouring buckets of hot water into large tubs. The atmosphere was thick enough that it proved impossible to make out details about the other forms who rested up to their necks in heavy wood tubs filled with bubble and water.
Blaggard said nothing, although he narrowed his eyes and tried to penetrate the haze, but Cleathelm immediately sang out as he entered the water, “Ahh, now then Blaggard, not as good as back home but not all that bad either.”
The half-goblin, listening closely, heard an astonished gasp from one of the other tubs and immediately replied, “No, Cleathelm, not as good as home but not bad for a bunch of heathens.”
Chapter 21
The fifty-foot polished granite arches of the great Gate of Faferdum rose high above Borrombus and the half-dozen stern-faced young dwarfs around him. His immensely fat stomach, his long beard with its gem- encrusted bands, and his dark red tunic all worked to make him stand out as a noble in the little gathering, but the way the other dwarves leaned in to catch his every word made it even more readily apparent. The archway was decorated with etchings of airy creatures flitting back and forth, some with bolts of lightning streaming from clenched fists and others in more peaceful poses.
“We must proceed as if the hammer is lost,” said one of the young dwarves who wore an emerald jerkin with five silver bars on each sleeve. He pounded his right fist into his left palm and spoke in a low but clear voice, “Your nephew has failed and the Firefists are moving against us. They know about our meetings with Corancil. We must strike now before it is too late.”
Borrombus shook his head, “No.”
“We must,” repeated the young lad. “We’ll be rounded up and executed as traitors. They’ll claim we gave away the secret location of Craggen Steep. We’ll be killed in the old way. Iron bars.”
The other young dwarves looked back and forth between one another but other than a few murmurs said nothing.
“Did you hear me Elder Borrombus?” said the talkative young dwarf and took a step closer to the leader of the group.
Borrombus nodded his massive head and his treble-chin wobbled accordingly, “I heard, young master. Do you propose we strike directly? Our warriors against the Golden Pikemen of the High Council? Against the Elite Guard? Those soldiers will remain loyal to the regime if we strike now, you do realize as much?”
“We can take them,” said the young dwarf. “It’s only the elders who want to remain hidden. All the younger dwarves with energy want to join Corancil and strike out into the world. Now is our time. Your plan, the return the hammer, to gain power peacefully, it’s over. We cannot wait any longer.”
“It is more than the elders,” said Borrombus with a shake of his head. “You count as allies the weak-willed, the youth, the down-trodden. They may be the popular majority but they are not the most energetic of people. The soldiers that guard the council, their children, the wealthy with guards, and their allies make up a powerful force. They are armed and organized unlike most of your rabble. We must find a way to arm them, to energize them before we strike.”
“You’re wrong, old man,” said the youth with a shake of his head. “You’re just like the Council Elders on which you sit, out of touch, out of place. It’s not your time anymore, it’s ours.”
“It’s a mistake to attack now,” repeated Borrombus with a shake of his massive head. “That’s just what the Firefists and Drawhammers want. If we strike prematurely they will have all the proof they need of our treachery. The soldiers await a move like this and then they will affect a counter blow and it will be swift and sure. Their plans are in place and we cannot play into them.”
“You’re wrong, old man,” said the youth and again shook his head vigorously. “We’ll do what it takes, and when it comes time to pass out rewards you can get in line and hope we don’t forget.” With that he and all but two of the other young dwarves turned and walked away speaking animatedly to one another as they went.
“Uncle Borrombus,” said one of the two remaining young dwarves as he came close and put his hand on the shoulder of the older dwarf. “There is nothing that can be done to stop them. They’ve been speaking with Corancil. You’ve met the man. You know how persuasive he is. His talk of the best and brightest and how empires are born is impossible to resist.”
Borrombus nodded his head and scratched his beard covered cheek, “You are right enough about Corancil, he’s not much to look at, that one,” he finally said after a pause. “But there is power in his words. He means not to conquer the world but to unite it. He’s naive though, he thinks rewarding those of merit is the solution to all the world’s ills but he has never lived in a tradition soaked place like Craggen Steep. The elders, even in their lazy stupidity, command respect. We have to take things more slowly.”
“It’s too late for that,” said the young dwarf with the large black eyes as he stared directly at Borrombus. “It’s too late. Maybe if Uldex was here…”
“Your brother is a fierce one,” said Borrombus with a smile. “He might have kept the other youngsters in line but, on the other side of the axe blade, he might have been the one to lead them to insurrection. That’s why I sent him away. You’re more level-headed than he.”
“So that is why you sent him to retrieve the hammer?”
Borrombus nodded his head, “One reason at least. Do you think you could take the thing from Delius?”
The young dwarf snorted, “He’d break me in half and never change his expression, uncle. He’s always been an odd one but good with his fists and the axe. Do you think it possible he can slay Gazadum?”
Borrombus laughed and his expression suddenly became one of mirth, “Of course not. Hopefully Uldex will take the hammer from his dead fingers and that way we’re rid of multiple problems at the same time. If only Uldex would get back here with the hammer we’d take control of the mountain and lead the dwarves out under the banner of Craggen Steep as Corancil unites the world. With our money, the discipline of our soldiers, and his leadership, nothing could stand against us.”
“But Uldex isn’t here,” said the young dwarf and clenched his fist under Borrombus’s nose. “I’m here and we
