Near the east perimeter a wild-haired figure in uncut furs and wrapped boots pushed past others of his kind to face the line of shields. “Bole Trune!” he shouted, snarling in rage. “I am Klar! I lead Klar of Kal-Thax!”
Somewhere in the crowd, a small, quavering voice was raised. “Where Highbulp?”
“Dunno,” another answered. “What want Highbulp for?”
“He s’posed say who he is,” the first voice explained.
“Let Highbulp sleep,” another suggested. “He don’ know who he is half th’ time, anyway.” Then that voice rose higher, “Aghar! This place, whatever! Highbulp’s name Faze I or somethin’!”
The armored, mounted dwarf with the plumed helm and swept-back whiskers looked around, surveying the thousands of encircled beings before him. “You are many tribes,” he said. “Do you war upon one another here, or just upon strangers?”
Olim Goldbuckle gritted his teeth, scowling at the armed one. There was a quality about the strangers — and particularly about this one — that annoyed him, but at the same time puzzled him. They seemed more aloof than hostile, more curious than combative, but he had seen them effortlessly throw back every attack made against them. “We war upon whom we please!” the Daewar roared. “Now you know who we are! Who are you?”
“I am Colin Stonetooth,” the stranger said evenly. “We are the Hylar. We are new-come to this realm, but we have come to stay. We claim equal rights and will defend them if we must.”
“Intruders!” Vog Ironface shouted, his voice echoing through his slitted mask. “You are not of Kal- Thax!”
“We are of Kal-Thax now,” Colin Stonetooth said, his voice deep and level. “We have made due claim, and the territory we hold is ours.”
“You are not part of the pact!” Slide Tolec called, his broad shoulders hunched as he pushed closer to the line of shields. “Kal-Thax belongs to those who defend it!”
Colin Stonetooth inclined his head, looking down at the angry Theiwar. “And what is this pact?” he asked.
“A treaty! A covenant of thanes, to defend Kal-Thax against intruders.”
“Against what intruders?” the Hylar prodded.
“All intruders!” Vog Ironface snapped. “You and all the others!”
“We are not intruders,” the Hylar said, slowly. “We came here, yes. But now we are here, just as you are. What intruders?”
Olim Goldbuckle shook his head, not liking the logic of the newcomer but understanding it. The strangers were indeed dwarves, and if they had laid proper claim to territories here — which he somehow was sure they had — then they were part of Kal-Thax, like it or not. Finally, in the silence, he raised his arm and pointed toward the far plains. “Those intruders,” he said. “Especially the humans! They are out there and they threaten Kal-Thax. We are allied in its defense.”
“Then we, the Hylar, will join in your pact.” Colin Stonetooth nodded. “For those humans out there, we have no more love than you do.”
“You will help to defend Kal-Thax?”
“Of course we will,” the Hylar assured them. “I wonder, though … exactly what is it that we must defend?”
“Kal-Thax!” Olim Goldbuckle tipped his head, staring at the Hylar. “These mountains are Kal-Thax.”
“And you allow none to pass through?”
“
Colin Stonetooth gazed around at the highland vistas. “Humans cannot live in mountains like these,” he said. “We have dealt with humans, too, and we know them. They are not trustworthy, on the whole, but these mountains need no defense against them. Humans would starve here.”
“There are valleys in Kal-Thax,” Olim said, stubbornly. “They would settle in the valleys and build colonies. They would multiply and expand. In the end, they would try to wipe out the dwarves. That’s how humans are. They must be kept out of Kal-Thax!”
“There are many kinds of defense,” Colin Stonetooth replied. “I have seen great tides of wanderers out there, on those plains. Even the strongest dam will break if there is not a controlled release … a way for the flow to pass beyond. Has that been considered?”
“It has been considered enough!” Vog Ironface shouted. “Are you … you
“We are here to stay, if that’s what you mean. No humans or anyone else will drive us out. We seek Everbardin here, in Kal-Thax.” Colin Stonetooth leaned forward in his saddle, gazing from one to another of them. “Do any of you question that we can defend what we choose to defend?”
There was no answer to that. Of all the dwarven troops standing cordon along the eastern flank of Kal-Thax, nearly a third were here, ringed and helpless, held hostage by a few hundred strangers with strange skills.
“Then so be it.” Colin Stonetooth nodded. “We do not want war with people of our own kind. You, Olim Goldbuckle! I ask your pledge of peace and a council of Thanes. Do you agree?”
Olim shrugged. “I agree,” he said.
The Hylar turned. “You, Slide Tolec! Do you also agree?”
The Theiwar squinted at him, hating him but helpless to contest his will. Then he spread his hands. “I agree,” he said.
Colin turned to Vog Ironface. “And you? Will you show me your face and agree to what I ask?”
“I will agree,” the hollow voice rumbled. “But I will not blind myself for your pleasure.”
“A dark-seeker,” Colin muttered curiously. Then he nodded and turned toward the wildly clad Klar. “And you, Bole Trune of Thane Klar?”
The Klar seemed taken aback at the idea that anyone would ask for his promise. But he shrugged. “I agree,” he said. Turning, he scowled fiercely about at others of his kind. “My word is given! I kill any Klar who breaks it!”
From somewhere, deep in the crowd, a wavering voice offered, “Highbulp prob’ly ag … agr … go’long with that, too, when he wake up. That okay?”
With a gesture, Colin Stonetooth backed his mount away, and the line of shields withdrew, companies of Hylar moving in perfect unison to a tattoo of drums.
Olim Goldbuckle frowned. Drums! So these were the ones! He snapped his fingers, and a Daewar picked up his sword and shield and handed them to him. “You called for a Council of Thanes!” he called to the Hylar leader. “When and where?”
“When the passes are blocked by winter,” Colin called back. “But first” — he turned, scanning the foothills below the line of defense — “I believe we could give those people out there something to think about until spring.”
Without waiting for a response, the Hylar leader wheeled his horse and headed eastward at a trot, his ten bodyguards flanking him purposefully. Behind him, companies of mounted Hylar spread and followed in a widening spearhead formation. Hylar footmen formed precise companies and followed, trotting along behind and among the mounted units. Within moments the Hylar army had become a deadly wedge of armed dwarves, banners aloft and drums singing, heading for the camps of the humans on the ridges below.
Olim Goldbuckle looked after them, then slung his shield and raised his sword. “Well, you heard him!” he roared. “Let’s go chase some humans!”
Within moments the hundreds of Hylar in the lead were followed by thousands of Daewar, Daergar, and Theiwar, with bands of Klar running and howling along their flanks. By the time this wall of dwarves reached the lesser slopes, entire camps of human intruders were scurrying about in panic, turning to flee to the plains beyond.
In the highlands camp, only a few dwarves remained — a tumble of gully dwarves heading for cover, a few stragglers from other tribes, and a cluster of a hundred or so armed figures watching the assault from above.
These were a mix of kinds — mostly Theiwar, but with some Daergar among them. They clustered around an individual who might have been anything. Silently he had mingled with the others of all the camps, unnoticed except
