The Hammer of Fire (39 page)

It took her an hour to mix up the sleep
potion for the almost two dozen men and she was careful not to put
too much of the toxic nightshade in, “Don’t want to kill them,” she
said to herself as she carefully poured the last mixture into the
bowl. “Could some of you strong fellows get a big pot of water
boiling on yonder fire and I’ll dump in my potions.”

A half-a-dozen of the men immediately grabbed
nearby little wooden buckets and dashed off into the darkness,
presumably towards a creek or well, while others found a big
cooking cauldron from somewhere and began to muscle it over to the
large fire. It only took a couple of minutes of work and the
cauldron, filled with water, was in place on the fire, and the men
gathered around it and watched as Petra muttered strange words and
gesticulated with sharp, jabbing motions towards the sky, earth,
and fire.

Petra was careful to slip off the little
translator amulet before she began her witchcraft although she
still used the same words as if the audience could understand her,
“By the night that gleams and the moon that shines, by bats wings
and cats eyes, I call forth the goddess of the moon to shine her
beams upon eve.” The gibberish went on for another few lines and
Petra went through the motions with all the practice of an old
cobbler setting away his tools. The ritual took about two or three
minutes and then she dumped the contents of her work into the
cauldron, immediately eliciting a cloud of purple and gold vapor
and a shower of hisses that crackled for a few moments before
subsiding.

“Is it ok to have a drink,” said one man
holding up his flask, “before we take the potion?”

Petra suddenly realized that she had
forgotten to slip on the amulet and had no idea what the man asked
so she nodded her head judicially and reached in to grasp the
little translating device.

The man, for his part, took the nod to mean
yes and immediately lifted the flask to his lips and swallowed
several mouthfuls in quick succession. The other men around the
fire made agreeing sorts of sounds and quickly unstoppered what
remained of their own supplies and downed them with haste. Petra
took the moment of distraction to slip the amulet around her neck.
“Stand back while the magic does it work,” she shouted and raised
her eyes towards not only the sky but to the little hills about a
mile away where Dol and Milli awaited her.

She bent over the cauldron, dipped her finger
into the still only lukewarm liquid, brought it to her mouth, and
tasted the concoction delicately. She pursed her lips and nodded
her head slowly. “I think it is ready.”

“Should we drink it now?” said one of the men
who shifted his eyes back and forth between Petra and the cauldron.
“What if this dwarf doesn’t come tonight?”

“If he doesn’t come tonight I’ll mix up
another one for you tomorrow … at only half the cost,” said Petra
and smiled. “Besides, shouldn’t the baron’s soldiers be here by
tomorrow or at least reinforcements from the other villages?”

“She’s right,” said a man from near the back
and rushed forward to dip a small tin cup into the liquid. He
paused for a second and then gulped down its contents in one
massive swig. The other men looked at him expectantly and he licked
his lips, “It’s not bad,” he finally concluded. “Not good, but not
bad.”

With that the other men rushed forward and
began to fill their own cups with the liquid and drink it down.
There was a little scuffle when the smallest of the men couldn’t
get to the front but clearer heads eventually prevailed and each of
the guards managed to fill their cups at least twice.

“I feel stronger already,” said one man and
curled his arm to make a muscle. “Feel my muscle.”

“That’s just your imagination,” said Petra
with a knowing smile and a shake of her head. “You won’t start to
feel the effects for an hour or so.”

“What if the demon dwarf comes before then,”
said one man and grabbed the dirk at his side. “We’ll never be able
to fight him off without the magic of the potion.”

“We didn’t have the potion when we got here,”
said the toughest of the group. “If we have to fight off this dwarf
then we’ll do it. I’ll bet once we feel fear the potion will start
affecting us anyway. Brace up, my lads. We’ll slay this demon dwarf
and the Fire God will sing our praises for the rest of our lives.
It’ll be a story to tell the grandbabies, it will indeed.”

“Well,” said Petra with a smile as she began
to pack up her gear. “I’ll be in the village for the day but if
this dwarf doesn’t come by tomorrow night I’ll come back and mix
you up another batch.”

One of the tallest of the villagers came up
to her and suddenly gave her a deep hug, “Thank you, witch woman.
You may well have saved my life and I’ll not forget it.”

“Nor I,” said a nearby by man and soon the
entire crowd gathered around her offering their thanks, handshakes,
hugs, and information about where there farmsteads were located for
future business.

It took Petra another half-an-hour to shake
off all the well-wishers, pack up the donkey, and head back up
towards where Dol and Milli were waiting.

“They should be dead to the world within a
couple of hours,” said Petra as she unpacked the little donkey. “If
you take one of the good horses you can be there in plenty of time
to sneak past them and into the mountain.”

Dol nodded his head and smiled, “You’ve done
a good job, Petra. I’m glad I listened to you rather than just
wading in. How many of them were there? Soldiers?”

“Just farmers mainly,” said Petra. “The
soldiers are off with the baron somewhere so it probably wouldn’t
have been that hard to get past them. They’re a little skeptical
anyone would attack their god to begin with.”

“Let them be skeptical,” said Dol and tapped
the end of the great hammer, which never seemed out of his hand
lately, against his palm. “I’ll destoy Gazadum and that will be
that.”

“Yes,” said Petra. “That will be that.”

“You meant to say both of the good horses,”
said Milli with her hands on her hips and glaring at Petra. “I’m
going with Dol until the end. I made that clear.”

“It’s your decision,” said Petra, “but what
possible help can you be to Dol once he’s inside the volcano? The
heat in there will prevent you from going against Gazadum. You
might as well just wait it out with me.”

“I’m not leaving Dol’s side until I
absolutely have to,” said Milli and stomped her foot. Her long hair
was tied back in a heavy braid and she wore a thick leather jerkin
that made her look more like a young boy than a pretty halfling
girl. “I’m with him until the end.”

Dol looked at her for a moment and his eyes
seemed to lose their reddish glow for a moment, “Maybe …,”

“Don’t you start,” said Milli with a steady
look in return. “You’ve been nothing but glory, death, and fire for
the last few weeks and you’re not going to go soft on me now. I’m
coming with you to face Gazadum and afterwards, whatever happens is
what happens.”

Dol’s eyes seemed to ignite with fire again
and he smiled broadly, “It is good that you want to be along for
the glory. Nothing will happen to her,” he said turning to Petra.
“I promise you I’ll keep her safe.”

Petra pursed her lips and said nothing.

“Come along then,” said Dol and walked over
to the horse that stood at the ready. Milli followed him and within
a few seconds the sounds of hoof beats was all that remained of the
two as Petra stood and watched them go.

The woman looked around the little camp and
began to gather her things, although a little tear appeared in the
corner of her eye.

Milli hacked up a lungful of yellowish phlegm
again as they made their way through yet another of the strange
little circular tunnels that made it feel like they were walking
through the inside of a tree. The temperature continued to rise and
Milli was stripped down to a light jerkin and her braided hair lay
plastered to her sweaty back as they continued onwards in the dim
environment. The odors were intense like rotten eggs and the air
was so heavy that it hurt just to take it into her lungs. Dol
seemed oblivious not only to the oppressive heat but also to the
noxious fumes, and there wasn’t even a bead of sweat on his
brow.

Milli paused for a second to try and catch
her breath and watched the strangely bald head of her companion
ahead of her. It had happened not far from the volcano’s entrance
itself. Dol’s eyes grew in intensity with every step their horses
took towards the biggest of the five volcanos. The guards slept
around their burnt out fire on the road that led directly to this
place.

As Dol’s eyes grew red so also did the apples
in his hair and the hammer at his side. Milli seemed to remember
that the runes buried deep in the hammer’s head were faint and dull
when they started out those months ago but now they burned bright
red, and the hammer itself seemed to pulse like a heart beating
slowly and steadily. First a few of the apples began to explode as
they passed through the fertile farmland that led up to the
volcano, and when they neared the entrance they seemed to reach
some critical point and dozens of them went off at once with a
thunder of little pops that spread seeds all over the ground. Now
Dol’s head and face had only little patches of his thick hair here
and there and bald spots shone starkly in the strange red light
that seemed to suffuse the passages they traversed.

Try as she might, Milli couldn’t catch her
breath in the heavy air; put her hand on her knee and bent over to
cough a few more times in a futile attempt to clear her lungs.
“Wait, Dol,” she gasped but the words seemed to die in the heavy
air and Dol continued on without her. “Wait, Dol,” she tried again
but with even fainter results than before. She pulled out a flask
of water, now more than half empty, and took a swallow, allowing
the water to roll around in her mouth before she downed it past her
burning throat. It brought some relief and she breathed in through
her nose, the horrible stench seeming to pierce every part of her
body, and then began to walk after Dol. Her pace continued to slow
as her lungs burned and the overwhelming heat sapped her strength.
When she next looked up she could no longer make out her companion
but she continued to trudge forward nevertheless.

Dol’s eyes shone like the red hot embers of a
fire stoked too often and he moved with steady strides down the
passageways as if he knew them from a thousand journeys. His
thoughts were on the great heartbeat ahead that seemed to move
through the tunnels, coalesce in his hammer, and infuse his body
with terrible, invincible strength. He turned down another corridor
and came into a smallish chamber with rock formations running from
the ceiling to the floor, fiery veins of red minerals infused the
walls giving this place a deep glow.

“Gazadum!” he called out and swung the hammer
from his side. “I, Dol Delius, am here to slay you.”

There was no answer, and Dol advanced further
into the room as he spun the hammer around his head. “You cannot
hide, great Gazadum. I am Dol Delius from Craggen Steep and I carry
Kanoner, the Hammer of Fire. I am here to seal your fate. Come out
and meet me!”

“This is a good thing,” said a deep voice
that sounded like logs crackling on a fire. “Although you are not
the first who has made such claims over the many, many years.”

“Where are you?” said Dol, looking around at
the chamber and seeing rocky outcroppings and a thin stream of lava
roiling past along a trench in the floor but no sign of a living
beast or god.

Slowly, deliberately, like a drizzle of honey
from a massive hive, a molten creature seemed to form from the
churning lava that poured through the chamber. It took the shape of
a dwarf-like beast although rocky in shape and black and purple in
color. It stood before Dol who, despite the protection of the
hammer, still felt the terrible heat that came off the creature. “I
am Gazadum and I have waited five thousand years for such as you to
come and slay me.”

“Your wait is over,” said Dol and hefted the
great hammer. “This hammer was forged from the essence you left
behind at Craggen Steep, and now I will use it to destroy you once
and for all so that you might never enslave the dwarves again.”

There was a pause and Dol studied his foe,
trying to determine any weakness in the terrible thing. Its
exterior was like a roiling river of rock constantly changing but
remaining ever the same.

Then Gazadum spoke again, the sound like
crackling rocks, “I never meant for the dwarves to think of
themselves as slaves,” it said. “I am saddened you think such was
your fate. When we came from the stars and shaped the world we
dreamed that we could create free-willed creatures and your
presence here is proof of our success. We had many dreams, many
hopes when we abandoned the freedom of the stars.”

“We?” asked Dol as he paused in his slow
advance towards Gazadum, the most ancient of elementals.

“My companions and I, Fafaradum, Glangaldum,
and Korakdum. We came to earth together with our dreams. We shaped
this place for eons beyond comprehension. We tore off pieces of
ourselves to create those you call the elementals and with their
help we slowly formed this land from its molten shell. Over the
long years it cooled and we crafted the quantum pieces into
pleasing forms, dug deep into the earth, and positioned the great
plates. Then we waited for many long eons as the earth drifted into
form. When all was ready great, sweet Glangaldum with her delicate
hands twisted the double-helix of life and with that set in motion
events leading to this very moment.”

“Did you create all the stars as well?” said
Dol, now fully paused and staring wide-eyed at the creature.