The Hammer of Fire (33 page)

She shrugged her shoulders, took the coin in
her mouth, bit down on it hard, and then looked at the slight
indentation her teeth made in the surface. “It looks good enough.
Those two should be enough to stay for tonight along with meals and
any laundry needs. It’ll be extra for a bath,” she said wrinkling
her nose at the smell emanating from the two visitors. “You’ve been
on the trail for a while?”

“What business is it of yours?” said
Cleathelm in a snarling tone of voice. “You have your gold, now
show us our room.”

The woman nodded her head and pocketed the
two large gold coins as she walked around the counter towards the
stairwell leading up to the rooms, “I’m sorry about that, it was
rather rude of me, please come along this way and I’ll take you to
your rooms. Shall I call you when the baths are ready?”

The trio headed up the stairs and arrived at
the room shortly thereafter. Cleathelm went in without a look back
but the little half-goblin patted his jerkin for a moment, “Shoot,
I forgot something. I’ve got to get my pack.”

“Whatever,” said Cleathelm and slumped down
on the bed.

As Blaggard walked downstairs with the woman
he waited until they were well away from the room, “We don’t even
have packs, that idiot,” he said with a laugh and the woman gave
him a quizzical look.

“He’s kind of an ass, isn’t he?” she said her
hand drifting to her pocket where the two heavy coins rested.

“Kind of?” replied Blaggard.

“Mostly then,” said the woman.

“Completely,” replied Blaggard with a
chuckle. “I’ll give him what he deserves one of these days
soon.”

The woman smiled while nodding her head.
“None of my business but if you dislike him so, why do you travel
with him.”

“You saw his purse,” said Blaggard with a
little tilt of his head.

“The Feathered Serpent is a reputable inn,”
said the woman as she stopped short and looked at Blaggard through
narrowed eyes. “I’ll have no murder in my rooms.”

“Nothing will happen to him as long as we
stay here; you have my word,” said Blaggard. “But, you mentioned
the five volcanoes without any prompting from us. Was there someone
asking about them before we got here?”

“Yes, the Five Sisters is what they’re called
around here,” said the woman with a shrug. “You’re the third group
of strangers to come through today and all of them with dwarves
that didn’t look like they were from around here. The first two
groups asked about the volcanoes so I figured you must be
interested as well.”

“Three groups, really?” said Blaggard. “One
of them was a pretty halfling girl with two dwarves but who was the
second?”

“A pretty little halfing and a dwarf, yes,”
said the woman as they reached the downstairs portion of the inn
and walked back to the long counter in front. “The third was
something strange and there was an old woman with them.”

“Something strange?” asked Blaggard.

“He had bunches of little red apples in his
hair and beard,” said the woman. “It was the strangest thing I’ve
ever seen.”

“That’s him,” said Blaggard. “Bunches you
say?”

“Oh yes,” replied the woman.

“And colored red, not green?” asked
Blaggard.

The woman nodded her head as they reached the
bottom of the stairs.

“Interesting,” said Blaggard with a slight
frown, “And when did they come through?”

“Just a few minutes before you arrived,” said
the woman as she glanced at the front door. “The apple-haired
fellow got angry with me when I mentioned his … condition.”

“He got mad at you?” said Blaggard.

“Furious,” said the woman trembling with the
memory of it.

“The one with the apples, not the shorter one
with no apples?” said Blaggard scrunching up his face and touching
his lower lip with his middle finger.

“I’d remember,” said the woman. “The one with
apples and the look in his eyes was like fire. I was afraid he’d
take a hand to me right then and there.”

“That’s quite interesting,” said Blaggard and
tapped on his chin. “Did you notice his weapon?”

“The hammer,” said the woman. “Hard to miss
it but I didn’t say anything about it. He was angry enough as it
was before they left.”

“I’ve known Dol for years and he was always a
calm, placid sort. Even in a scrap he wouldn’t scream or yell, just
go about the business of beating you black and blue.”

“The others seemed a little startled by his
behavior now that you mention it,” said the woman with a shrug. “I
can see how he would get tired of people making fun of those
apples. There were so many of them and quite red and ripe were some
of them.”

“Red, your absolutely sure?” said Blaggard.
“Not green and small?”

“No, not big like cider apples or anything
but mostly red with a tint of green,” she replied.

Blaggard stood with his hands on his hips and
said nothing for long enough that the woman felt compelled to
speak, “Was there anything else?”

“What … no, wait, yes, the other group. Can
you describe them, did they stay here?”

“They’re here,” said the woman. “Just
upstairs down the hall from your room, but there are only two of
them, one a rough looking fellow with a long scar down the right
side of his face and a smaller dwarf as well,” said the woman.
“Now, is there anything else?”

Blaggard’s eyes widened and he couldn’t help
but make a startled intake of breath, “Uldex. Uldex here. He must
have followed us somehow.”

“I didn’t get his name,” said the woman.

“Now, as to you and me. I know how much that
gold Cleathelm gave you is worth down here,” said Blaggard with a
little grin as he turned to face the woman. “I’ll get whatever I
want as long as I’m here and we don’t have to let Cleathelm know a
thing about it, right?”

The woman nodded, “That’s fair, what is it
you’ll be wanting?”

“A bath, and girls, do you have goblins down
here? Saucy girls with a bit of attitude?”

“Something can be arranged I’m certain. I’ll
send the boy when your bath is drawn,” said the woman with a nod of
her head.

Blaggard smiled and nodded his head, “Which
room did you give to the dwarf with the scar?”

“Thirteen,” said the woman and began to busy
herself behind the desk.

Blaggard quickly mounted the staircase and
looked at the first door on the right only to see a strange
unrecognizable squiggle on the door, “Well, damn,” he said. “How
did she understand us if we don’t speak the language?” He walked
down the hallway to the room and stopped in mid-stride trying to
remember which one was his own. It was on the right, but how many
doors down from where the stairwell came up? “Damn,” he said just
as a young boy wearing a light colored jerkin with the picture of a
feathered serpent on the breast came running up and down the
corridor to a door just ahead of Blaggard. The boy knocked on the
door and shouted out something in an unintelligible language.

A couple of seconds later Uldex’s head popped
around the corner and Blaggard dodged backwards and towards the
stairs with a quick motion. The dwarf glanced in that direction but
then turned to the boy, “What was that?”

The boy replied in the same barbarian
language and Uldex stared at him and wrinkled his nose. “I suppose
it’s the bath. Come along, Carus,” he said with a look over his
shoulder. “It’s time for our baths. You’ll want to clean yourself
if they manage to find girls.”

Meanwhile, Blaggard listened to the one-sided
conversation from around the corner and dashed into a small alcove
a few seconds later when Uldex and Carus walked past. After waiting
an appropriate length of time to make sure they didn’t double back
he went back to where he thought his room was located, and after
knocking on one wrong door managed to find a half-naked Cleathelm
standing in front of a long mirror and admiring himself in it.

“Did you find whatever it was you lost?” said
the dwarf as he turned to the left and right and examined his
beard. “My beard is a mess. I’ll need half a dozen maids to get it
all straightened out and I can’t imagine where I’ll 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.”

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.”