The Hammer of Fire (12 page)

“See what they plan. Watch over them and stop
any Firefist from taking it; but if it looks like they are going to
lose it, then take it from them and bring it back to Craggen Steep.
Make sure it’s you that brings it back. Am I clear?”

“What if Dol resists my efforts to take the
hammer?” said Uldex.

“Do I have to spell it out?” said
Borrombus.

“And Milli?”

Borrombus paused for a moment and gazed
deeply into the eyes of his nephew, “You’re fond of the girl,
yes?”

Uldex nodded his head.

“She not a dwarf, let alone of a good family”
said Borrombus.

“No, I couldn’t marry her, that’s true,” said
Uldex returning his uncle’s gaze steadily.

“She is a beauty and not just because she’s
different,” said Borrombus his gray eyebrows rising. “I’ve been on
many caravans to the outside world and I’ve dealt with the Darkling
matriarchs more than once, I know beauty when I see it. Still,
convince her if you can. She’d be a fine consort. But, if you have
to take permanent action then do what is right for the family.”

Uldex’s eyes flickered for a moment away from
the gaze of his Uncle and his hand twitched at his side, but
eventually he nodded his head, “I’ll do what’s right for the
family. I hope that it won’t come to that but you can count on me,
uncle. I’m a Blackiron first and last.”

“Good,” said Borrombus. “Now, run along and
gather your friends. I need to figure out exactly where Dol and his
companions are heading. I’m certain the First Edos talked to that
girl. Why didn’t I think about it before and have him watched? I’m
getting sloppy in my dotage. Sloppy.”

“Spawn of Beelzebub!” shrieked Milli as she
yanked her foot back, swayed perilously in the saddle, and slapped
at the mule with mittened hands. “It hates me!”

“Stop screaming at him,” said Brogus as he
stroked the straggly mane of his own mule. “You’re just scaring
him.”

“It’s not a him, it’s the devil!”

“Are we sure the devil isn’t a he?” said Dol
and both of his companions looked at him with sudden twists of
their heads.

“Did you just tell a joke?” asked Milli as
she tried to stabilize on the back of the brown mule. Her mount had
a narrow neck and a bulging belly that translated into a rolling
sort of gait that made her both nauseous and sleepy at the same
time.

“No,” said Dol.

“What’s got into you,” asked Brogus with a
twitch of the reins that sent his mule over to Dol’s. His beast was
gray in color and taller than Milli’s with a long tail that drooped
almost to the ground. “You’ve been acting strange ever since we
left Craggen Steep. Is the fresh air getting to you?”

Dol smiled, “I suppose it might be the air or
the sunshine,” he said and gingerly touched the back of his neck.
“How is it that something you cannot see can burn so much?”

“The back of my neck is as red as old drunken
dwarf’s nose,” said Milli and suddenly screamed as the mule tried
to bite her again. She tumbled off the beast, landed on her side
with a thump, sprang up, and began batting at the thing, “I hate
you! I hate you! I’ll walk all the way to Das’von!” She turned and
starting marching down the road in the same direction ahead of her
companions.

“Milli, Milli!” said Brogus jumping off his
own mule and trying to chase after her. “Hold the mules, Dol.” He
shouted over his shoulder. It took him a few seconds to catch up to
the girl who was walking at a tremendous pace despite her short
little legs. “C’mon, Milli,” he said and grabbed her by the arm.
“It’s just a mule. It’ll be fine.”

“It hates me,” said Milli yanking her arm
free and turning to look at Brogus with eyes so fiercely blazing
that he took a step backwards.

“It doesn’t hate you.”

“I hate it and it hates me. It has lice, it
bites, and it walks cockeyed and makes me want to vomit. Who
invented an animal like that? Were they sadists? Halflings weren’t
meant to ride animals. I’m done with that lice ridden flea bag
forever,” she said with her hands on her hips and spittle flying
from her mouth. “Forever!”

“Milli, you have to understand, it’s still a
hundred miles or more to Das’von and Corancil. You’ll never be able
to walk all that way.”

“I can walk all that way and more,” said
Milli and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not getting back
on that hell beast!”

“It’s not just about walking,” said Brogus.
“Don’t you think they’ll be chasing us? Trying to get us back to
Craggen Steep, to get the hammer from Dol. We need to keep moving.
If we don’t, they’ll catch us. You don’t want to be dragged kicking
and screaming back to there. After all that talk about how you are
finally free.”

Milli stopped and stared at Brogus and
scrunched her nose. “I know there’s something wrong in the world
when you start to make sense. Fine, let’s switch mules at least.
Yours seems nice enough. It doesn’t bite at least.”

“Yours is the smallest,” said Brogus with a
gesture back towards Dol, where he stood patiently holding all
three beasts. “That’s why we gave it to you. Your legs are even
shorter than ours.”

“I don’t care, I want yours,” said Milli and
immediately stomped off down the dirt trail away from Brogus.

Brogus looked over to Dol and shrugged his
shoulders. The hard-packed dirt road was six feet wide with an
occasional wagon rut to indicate the passage of traders. After they
escaped Craggen Steep the three decided to take this less traveled
road, rather than the thick stone avenue built for the heavy wagons
filled with weapons that came from Craggen Steep at regular
intervals. This way they hoped to avoid any possibility of an
encounter with traders. Tall pine trees, some of which towered
almost fifty feet in the air, lined both sides of the road, and the
crisp chill in the morning air made for steamy breath as Brogus
shook his head and sighed. “I suppose mine is the next smallest,”
he said walking over to where Dol patiently awaited.

The tall dwarf busied himself applying a
curry brush to the animals with singular care, occasionally
reaching into a pocket to pull out a carrot slice and feed it to
the beasts. They had come across a patch of wild pusillus carrots
the day before and somehow Brogus remembered them from a previous
expedition. Early in the trip it hadn’t taken them long to realize
their inadequacies when it came to understanding local plants and
animals. They had packed enough staple food items for several
weeks, but the speed which they devoured these rations quickly
brought them to the realization that they would need to hunt and
gather for supplies. None of the three having spent much of any
time outside of the mountain; they quickly found themselves worried
about their supplies of food and drink. No one had thought to bring
along books that might help them forage for food. The plants were
all strange, although plenty of creeks with fresh flowing water
supplied that need at least. None of them had even rudimentary
skills at trapping live animals for meat.

“We’re going to starve to death if we let
Milli walk,” said Brogus as he watched Dol feed the only food so
far scavenged to the mules. He took the reins of both his and
Milli’s animal and started to walk after the girl but didn’t get
more than a dozen strides before he noticed Dol was not following
him. “What’s going on?” he said looking back to the other dwarf
with raised eyebrows. “Milli’s getting away”.

Dol pointed with a single finger down a
little trail off to the side of the main thoroughfare. It was all
but invisible, and if they hadn’t happened to stop almost on top of
it Dol would have never seen it. ”Smoke”

A thin wispy trail of white smoke emerged
from somewhere down the path and Brogus spotted it after a few
seconds of searching glances. “Do you think we should see who it
is?”

“We need food, water, a new mule,” said Dol
in a steady voice.

“Milli!” shouted Brogus and started to dart
after the Halfling girl, but Millli’s mule decided at that moment
not to move which brought Brogus to a sudden and jarring halt. He
looked at the mule and shook his head, “Maybe you are evil.” He
then turned to face down the road where the form of the girl was
still visible, “Milli! Wait! We found something.”

Milli walked a few more strides and then
slowed to a stop although she didn’t turn around.

“Please, Milli,” said Brogus as he tried to
pull the stubborn mule forward. “Come back.”

She glanced over her shoulder with narrowed
eyes and shook her head.

“Hold the mule, will you Dol?” said Brogus
and held out the reins to the young dwarf. “I’ve got to go convince
her. She’s just mad because of the sunburn,” he continued as his
hand went to the back of his own neck. His ruddy complexion seemed
less vulnerable to the damaging rays of the sun although he also
wore a wide brimmed hat thanks to previous experiences with trading
caravans. “I should have told her about sunburn. We were in such a
hurry!”

After Dol took the mule, Brogus scurried over
to Milli and started to put his arm around her shoulder although a
fiery glance turned the movement into more of a wave. “Milli,
there’s someone back in the woods there. They might be able to help
us. We didn’t think about food or drink.”

She glared harder.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I’m just
saying we didn’t think about it, Milli,” said Brogus holding up his
hands in a defensive manner. “It’s nobody’s fault, we made a
mistake, but there might be somebody there that can help us. Maybe
they have an extra mule?”

Milli’s expression softened, she tilted her
head to the side, and nodded her head. “Fine.”

Ten minutes later the trio approached a
ramshackle old wagon, once painted bright red but faded to a dull
orange after years in the sun, parked near a fallen tree. A large
black kettle sat in the middle of an open fire with wood piled
around it. A woebegone horse picked desultorily at the scrabbly
weeds that sprouted just on the edges of the little clearing. There
was no sign of anyone else in the clearing.

“Hello,” said Brogus in a loud voice. “We are
travelers hoping to share a meal and perhaps trade.”

Silence greeted this proclamation and the
three waited for a long moment. “This is stupid,” said Milli
stamping her foot and scowling at the ground. “You’re stupid. The
mule is stupid and my neck burns!”

“What’s that,” an elderly woman’s voice
suddenly sounded from somewhere around them. A moment later she
emerged from the woods and stared at them with a guarded
expression. She wore a thick woolen coat many times patched at the
elbows, her long black and gray hair was both frizzy and unbound
giving the impression of a wild woman. “What is it that is stupid,
young lady?”

Milli took a step forward toward the old
woman and put on her best smile, “I didn’t think there was anyone
here. I’m so sorry. It’s a lovely little camp you have. I’m Milli
and these are my friends Dol and Brogus. We happened on your wagon
and thought you might like visitors.”

“When did she get so nice?” whispered Brogus
to Dol and held his hands at about waist height with the palms
facing up.

“Visitors are always welcome,” said the old
woman with a cackle as she came over to Milli and put her arm
around the Halfling girl. “Do you need a love potion perhaps?”

“No, no,” said Milli and her cheeks instantly
went red. “Nothing like that. We’re just travelers. We do have some
gold.”

“Gold,” said the old woman as her eyes opened
a little wider for a moment but then a rather bored expression
seemed to come over her face. “Dwarves with gold. I’ve encountered
a few of those over the years up here in the north realms. But you
don’t have the look of traders, more like runaway apprentices …
excepting you, dearie,” this last with a pat to Milli’s arm. “But,
of course I’m being terribly rude, my name is Petra Galabradala but
everyone just calls me Old Petra. My camp is your camp,” she
finished with a flourish of her hands towards the little clearing,
although her eyes carefully looked over the clothes and general
bearing of the visitors.

“This is Dol,” said Milli as the tall dwarf
with the short hair came over and gave a little bow, “and this is
Brogus.”

The old woman looked at Dol carefully for a
few moments and then turned her intense gaze onto Brogus, “Tree
Shepherd blood in your veins then,” she said turning back to
Dol.

“That’s right,” said Dol.

“And you’re from the Horncall clan,” she said
to Brogus.

“How did you know that?” said Brogus with his
eyes wide and his jaw dropped. “Are you a witchy woman?”

Dol, on the other hand, said nothing and kept
an impassive expression.

“Of course I’m a witchy woman,” she said with
a smile that revealed at most half a dozen teeth. “You think an old
woman can live out here in the wild without being a powerful
witch?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” said Brogus with
a smile, “people always say I’m a little bit slow. Mom always says
I got the brawn but not the brains.”

The old woman laughed out loud, “Fair enough
then, fair enough. Now, dearies, I’ve got a kettle of Meadow-Wort
stewing over there but we can put something for eating on in about
two hours. Can you wait that long? You look famished.”

The three travelers looked at one another and
shrugged at almost exactly the same moment, “I think we can wait,”
said Milli. “What’s Meadow-Wort?”

“I’m kind of hungry now,” said Brogus in a
whisper but a sidelong look from Milli, filled with menace,
immediately silenced him.

The old woman hooked her arm under Milli’s
and led her over to the large kettle which was at a low boil. “Some
folks call it Lady of the Meadow but we witchy types like to go
with the most foul sounding name. It impresses the yokels.
Meadow-Wort has a sweet flavor but I use it for aches and pains not
for spicing. You boil the roots with water for a few hours and then
let them dry. Once they’re ready I powder them and add a little
secret of mine that I don’t like to give out, you understand I’m
sure. The powder is good for headaches and the like but it does
tend to upset the stomach and that’s why I add my special
ingredient. Are you interested in the herbal ways? You’re a
beautiful girl, there’s not a lot of call for types like you in the
witchy world.”