Serpent Mage (36 page)

HAPLO WAS ON HIS GUARD THE NEXT CYCLE, WAITING FOR
the look or sign indicating Dumaka had discovered his guest trifling with his daughter's affections.

But Alake was true to her word, proving stronger than Haplo had suspected. When she was in his company (a circumstance Haplo went out of his way to avoid, but sometimes couldn't help), Alake was demure, polite, proper. She no longer brought him little presents, no longer selected the choicest morsels from the cooking pot for his pleasure.

And then he had other problems to worry about.

The dwarven contingent arrived on the twelfth cycle. Yngvar brought a large group, consisting of the Elders and several military officers.

The dwarves were welcomed formally by Dumaka, his wife, members of the tribal council and the Coven. A nearby cave, whose cool chambers were used for storing fruits and vegetables and a rather remarkable wine made by the humans, was cleared out and turned over to the dwarves for the duration of their stay on Phondra. As Yngvar told Haplo, no dwarf could sleep soundly beneath a roof covered with grass. He wanted the feel of something substantial—like a mountain—over his head.

Haplo was glad to see the dwarves. Their arrival took unwanted attention away from him and it meant that the time
for action was that much nearer. Haplo was ready for action now, the incident with Alake having effectively managed to dispel his lapse into idyllic euphoria.

He was eager for news, and the dwarves brought some.

“The dragon-snakes are rebuilding the sun-chasers,” stated Yngvar. “As he said they would.” The dwarf gave a nod toward Haplo.

The heads of the royal houses met privately together after dinner. Formal discussions, involving all members of the respective governments, would not take place until the elves arrived. Haplo had been invited, because he was a guest. He took care to keep out of the conversation, watched and listened quietly.

“These are good tidings,” said Dumaka.

The dwarf twisted his beard, frowning.

“What is wrong, Yngvar? Is the work progressing too slowly? Is it slipshod? Ill done?”

“Oh, it's done well enough,” the dwarven king grumbled. He shifted one leg out from beneath the other, trying, in vain, to make himself comfortable.
²
“It's
how
it's done that bothers me. Magic.”

He grunted, rolled over on one rump, groaned, and began to rub his leg. “I mean no offense, ma'am,” he added, nodding brusquely at Delu, who had bristled at his disparaging tone, black eyes flashing indignantly. “We've been through this before. You elves and humans know how we dwarves feel about magic. We know how you feel. We have come, thank the One, to both respect each other's thinking and not try to change it. And if I had thought that either of your magics or both would have salvaged the sun-chasers, I would have been the first to suggest using it.”

The dwarf's eyes narrowed, he forgot his discomfort. “But those ships were broken into a thousand bits. A thou-

sand, thousand bits, if you will. I could have sat on the largest piece of all that was left and it would have been no more to me than a splinter in my arse!”

“My dear,” rebuked his wife, flushing. “You're not in the tavern.”

“Yes, yes. We understand. Go on,” persisted Dumaka impatiently. “What are you saying? The work is progressing or it isn't?”

Yngvar was not to be hurried, despite the fact that his toes had gone numb. He rose abruptly to his feet, marched over to what appeared to be a large ceremonial drum, and plopped himself down on it with a sigh of relief. Delu looked considerably shocked; her husband silenced her words of protest with a look, “The work,” said the dwarf slowly, glowering from beneath his bushy eyebrows, “is finished.”

“What?” Dumaka exclaimed.

“The ships were built”—Yngvar snapped his fingers— “in less time than it took me to do that.”

Haplo smiled, well pleased.

“That is not possible,” argued Delu. “You must be mistaken. Our most powerful sorcerers—”

“—are as children compared to these dragon-snakes,” stated Yngvar bluntly. “I am not mistaken. I have never seen such magic. The sun-chasers were so many splinters, floating on the water. The dragon-snakes came up to look at the ships, surrounded them. Their green eyes glowed red, brighter than the furnace in which we forge our axes. They spoke strange words. The sea boiled. The pieces of wood flew into the air and, as if one knew another, rushed together as a bride rushes to the arms of her groom. And there they stand—the sun-chasers. Exactly as we built them. Except that now”—the dwarf added, glowering—“none of my people will go near them. And that includes me.”

Haplo's satisfaction turned instantly to gloom. Damn! Another problem! He should have foreseen the mensch reaction. As it was, even Delu looked troubled.

“This truly is a wondrous feat,” she said in a low voice. “I would like to hear it described in more detail. Perhaps, if you could meet with the Coven tomorrow …”

Yngvar snorted. “If I never see another wizard, it will be too soon. No, I will not argue. I have said all I am going to say on the subject. The sun-chasers are there, floating in the harbor. The Coven is welcome to come look at the ships, sink them, dance in them, fly them, if you have a mind to. No dwarf will set so much as a hair of his beard on a single plank. This I swear!”

“Are the dwarves prepared to let themselves be turned into blocks of ice?” Dumaka asked, glowering.

“We have boats enough of our own—boats built with sweat, not magic—to take our people off our doomed seamoon.”

“And what about us?” Dumaka shouted.

“Humans are not the concern of the dwarves!” Yngvar shouted back. “Use the cursed boats if you want.”

“You know perfectly well we need a dwarven crew—”

“Superstitious fools!” Delu was saying.

Haplo got up, walked out. From the sounds of the argument raging behind him, no one was likely to notice his absence.

He stalked off toward his own lodge and nearly fell over Grundle and Alake, crouched in a grove of trees.

“What the— Oh, it's you,” Haplo said irritably. “I thought you two'd had your fill of listening in on other people's conversations?”

They'd chosen a secluded spot, near the back end of the chieftain's lodge, shadowed from the bright light of the campfires that shone full on their faces when they stood up.

Alake looked ashamed. Grundle only grinned.

“I wasn't going to listen,” Alake protested. “I came to see if my mother needed me to fetch more wine for our guests and I found Grundle hiding here. I told her it was wrong, that we shouldn't do this anymore, that the One had punished us—”

“The only reason you found me hiding here was that you came planning to hide here yourself!” Grundle retorted.

“I did not!” Alake whispered indignantly.

“You did so. What else were you doing traipsing around the back of the longhouse instead of the front?”

“Whatever I was doing is my business—”

“Both of you go on home,” Haplo ordered. “It's not safe here. You're away from the firelight, too close to the jungle. Go on, now.”

He waited until he saw them headed on their way, then started for his own lodge. Footsteps echoed his. He glanced around, saw Grundle tagging along behind.

“Well, what are you going to do about our parents?” she asked him, jerking a thumb in the direction of the longhouse.

Loud, angry voices could be heard, echoing through the night air. People passing by looked at each other worriedly.

“Shouldn't you be somewhere else?” Haplo said irritably. “Won't someone miss you?”

“I'm supposed to be in the cave asleep, but I stuffed a bag of potatoes in my blanket roll. Everyone'll think it's me. And I know the guard on duty. His name's Hartmut. He's in love with me,” she said matter-of-factly. “He'll let me back in. Speaking of love, when's the wedding?”

“What wedding?” Haplo asked, his thoughts on how to solve the current problem.

“Yours and Alake's.”

Haplo came to a stop, glared at the dwarf.

Grundle gazed back, smiling, innocent. Numerous tribe members were eyeing them curiously. Haplo caught hold of the dwarf's arm, hustled her into the privacy of his lodge.

“Uh-oh,” she said, shrinking away from him in mock terror. “You're not going to try to seduce me, now, are you?”

“I didn't seduce anybody,” Haplo said grimly. “And keep your voice down. How much do you know? What did Alake tell you?”

“Everything. Mind if I sit? Thanks.” She plopped herself on the floor, began plucking leaves out of her side whiskers. “Whew! It was really hot, squatting in that bush. I could have told those dragon-snakes they were making a mistake, showing off their power like that. Not that they would have listened to me.”

She shook her head, her expression suddenly grave, solemn. “Do you know, I think they did it on purpose. I think
they knew magic like that would frighten my people. I think
they meant to frighten them!”

“Don't be ridiculous. Why would they want to frighten you when they're trying to save you? And never mind that now anyway. What did Alake tell you? Whatever she said, I didn't try to take advantage of her.”

“Oh, I know that.” Grundle waved a deprecating hand. “I was just teasing. I have to admit…” she added grudgingly. “You treated Alake better than I expected you to. I guess I misjudged you. I'm sorry.”

“What did she tell you?” Haplo asked for the third time.

“That you two were going to be married. Not now. Alake's not a fool. She knows that this crisis is no time for her to bring up matrimony. But when the sun-chasers take us all to a new realm—if that ever happens, which now I'm beginning to doubt—then she figures you'll both be free to get married and start a new life together.”

So, Haplo said to himself bitterly, here I've been thinking all along that she'd come to her senses. All she's been doing, apparently, is entrenching herself deeper in her fantasies.

“Do you love her?” Grundle asked.

Haplo turned, frowning, thinking the dwarf was teasing him again. He saw, instead, that she was very much in earnest.

“No, I don't.”

“I didn't think so.” Grundle gave a small sigh. “Why don't you just tell her?”

“I don't want to hurt her.”

“Funny,” said the dwarf, studying him shrewdly, “I'd have said you were the kind of man who didn't much care whether he hurt other people or not. What's your real reason?”

Haplo squatted down on his haunches, eyes level with the dwarf maid. “Let's say that it wouldn't be in anybody's best interests if I did anything to upset Alake. Would it?”

Grundle shook her head. “No, I guess you're right.”

He breathed a sigh, stood up. “Listen, the shouting's stopped. I'd say the meeting's broken up.”

Grundle clambered hastily to her feet. “That means I better get going. If I'm caught missing, Hartmut's the one who'll end up in trouble. I hope my parents settled everything with the humans. Deep down, you know, my father really respects Dumaka and Delu. It's just that the snakes frightened him so badly.”

She started to dart out the door. Haplo caught hold of her, pulled her back.

Yngvar was stumping past, his face a sullen red in the firelight, arms swinging wildly as he muttered to himself. His wife tromped along at his side, her lips pressed together tightly, too angry to speak.

“I don't think they resolved anything,” said Haplo.

Grundle shook her head. “Alake's right. The One sent you to us. I will ask the One to help you.”

“The same One whose oath I swore?” asked Haplo.

“What else?” said Grundle, looking at him in astonishment. “The One who guides the waves, of course.”

The dwarf dashed out the door, her short legs pumping as she ran off into the night. He watched the small figure bob among the campfires, saw that she would easily outdistance her parents. Yngvar's anger carried him along at a swift pace, but Haplo guessed the rotund king would soon get winded. Grundle would reach the cave in plenty of time to replace the sack of potatoes with her own stout body, save lover Hartmut from having his beard cut off or whatever form of punishment was measured out to guards derelict in their duties.

Haplo turned from the door, flung himself on his pallet, stared into the darkness. He thought about the dwarves and their reliance on this One, wondered if he could somehow use this to his advantage.

” The One who guides the waves'!” he repeated, amused.

He closed his eyes, relaxed. Sleep began to sever the ties that bound brain to body, snipping them one by one to let the mind drift free until dawn would catch it, drag it back. But before the last cord was cut, Haplo heard an echo of Grundle's words in his mind. But it wasn't the dwarf's voice that spoke them. The words seemed, in fact, to come
to him out of a very bright white light, and they were slightly different.

The One who guides the Wave.

Haplo blinked, jerked to wakefulness. He sat up, stared into the darkness of his lodge.

“Alfred?” he demanded, then wondered irritably why he should have the feeling the Sartan was present.

He lay back down, shoved the dwarves, Alake, the Sartan, the One, the dragon-snakes, and whoever else was crowded into his lodge out into the night, and gave himself up to sleep.