Kingdom of Thindur [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/928675464401281116/1157336808871444480/WhatsApp_Image_2023-09-29_at_17.19.49.jpeg?ex=65183d65&is=6516ebe5&hm=c8c9713d6d94e84b5280b15d1d623cf5f5bbc760cff4ef5c47e186fef37127af&]

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LVII. According to the diaries of Asadue, it was on the twenty-second of the last month of the year 1716 in the first year of the reign of King Medrios II, that Elbracht left his home of Ceor, and long time would it be till he returned thither. It was already noon when the clouds tried to sunder, and there was a sudden beam of light that bent on them as a blessed cry of hope from the skies, yet as suddenly as it came it also passed, though it proved enough to lift the haze in their surroundings and presently the path lay bare before them. They galloped north in haste, and no sound was heard, but that of hooves against mud. As they rode, a shade popped out from behind the slopes in Elbracht’s eyes, he discerned it and there was the lonely cottage and even though he yearned to pay the old Gilly a visit and comfort in his cozy home, his mind was set on the quest at hand. They used the cottage as a landmark, and passing by it they turned left.

Soon, there were wolds and pastures round them, and the path became hard and stony, until they came about the village of Corfáir, and it seemed to Elbracht that a shadow was set on it; the houses were gloomy and sorry and no trace was left of the magic it had once possessed. Shortly it began to rain, and every drop was a like a tear from heaven that troubled Elbracht’s mind with visions of the last time he had been to those parts. But now, Elbracht was not alone and had little mind to care for memories. In the village, as usual, most took no notice of them, and those who did frowned at them. So Elbracht went to the Ye Olde Tankard and, just this once, he paid the taverner Edric for meals and ale. They sat alone in a table, where no one could hear them, for no one could since it was noon and by that hour Corfáireans went on with their daily business and had no time to spare with beer or food until come the night. The Herald, sir Frann, wondered what they were doing there and Elbracht answered,

-“Before I can go on with this quest I must first regain my sword, Oakenjaw, I have grown much attached to it, and was forced to use it as payment for the services I was offered, now I want it back. I gave it to the blacksmith of the village, mister Ceolf, but the sword was only a gage for what he really wanted. Our agreement was that I would give him a coat of mail in exchange for his help.”

-“Do not tell me you will render your armour before this quest,” said sir Frann, “I will not give you mine, and you will need shielding in the journey and the perils that may lie ahead.”

-“All is well, sir Frann” replied Elbracht, “I bring with me a chain-mail to spare, for it was my intent to make a stop in this village to see this matter settled. For now, let us eat and gather our strengths, for it will be long until we reach Fyore where we can make another stop, and even then I fear we might not be welcome there.”

The three men ate their full share and before it was an hour passed noon, they wondered about the village looking for the smithy. They asked here and there where the forge was, but only queer looks they were given in reply and though the Herald bore the king’s sigil on his breast, none came to their aid. It seemed to Asadue that Corfáireans spoke in a foreign tongue, for though they spoke the common tongue, they came up with a jargon that only they could understand.

Presently, Elbracht spotted in the market a familiar face, it was the hosteller of Ye Passing Farers and though he frowned at them, he recognised sir John well enough to trust onto him a few groany words, “Behind the church nigh the graveyard” he said and this proved good enough to give the three men a lead. They followed his vague indication, and not long after they passed the churchyard, they came about an old house, its base was of stone, its top of wood, and many crows had made their home on its wooden thatch. There was above it a large chimney that streamed a black smoke, dark as night, and signs of decay were carved on its walls and windows. Unlike other establishments there were no words on the wall. They knocked at the door many times beyond count but no one answered, and yet there was a faint banging as of iron against iron, “ching, ching, ching” they heard followed by no voice. Then Asadue inspected the house and found a yard behind it, dusted with ashes, filled with fumes and fog. There were broken tongs and swages lying about and garbaged piles of rotten wood and rusty iron against the fences.

Shortly, Elbracht and sir Frann went to the mentor’s calling and there they found a brawny man, his face was stern, his nose was hooked and if he had any eyes, they were hidden away beneath his bushy brows. For a moment he thought it was a dwarf, but then he saw, it was mister Ceolf and the clang they had heard before was of his hammer banging metal on the anvil. His hearth was lit bright and fore its flames he looked like a mighty smith-lord of old.

-“Hullo, master Ceolf!” shouted Elbracht, fighting off the loud hammering thud, “I have come with your payment as I promised.”

-“M’lord,” he said, “forgive me poor manners, I didn’t hear you before. Pray, come in!”

Mister Ceolf then left his hammer on the anvil and met with the three men inside his house. There the air was clearer and though it smelled of moss and wood, it was still far purer than the iron fumes outside. Ceolf, not forgetting his manners offered them something to eat and drink; Elbracht and sir Frann kindly declined but since in his culture it was bad manners not to take a host’s offer, Asadue welcomed the gesture. After a friendly chatter, Elbracht asked for his sword and showed the blacksmith the coat of mail he had brought for him. Ceolf went on to examine it and after a long look he raised his brows so that he finally showed his brown eyes.

-“‘Tis a pretty thing, I tell you” he said, “rare as gold, far lighter but much harder to bend. This must have cost many hands to quarry and, by the looks of it, many fingers were lost to forge it. I know of no man who’d be willing to give up his sweat and toil to found this ore, lest one who’s been forced by chain and whip to do so, if you know me saying.

After inspecting it a little more, he sighed and said, “Aye, this will do it. ‘Tis just as precious as we agreed, alas, I cannot take this, for it would also be unjust, since I don’t have the blade you gaged my services for. For that I am sorry.” Ceolf gave him back the coat of mail and Elbracht’s face turned pale.

-“Why, you don’t have it? You have lost my sword?” asked Elbracht fearful, as his hands gripped.

-“I wouldn’t say, I lost it. Nay, ‘twas stolen from me!” Upon saying that, Ceolf’s eyes turned grim, for a shadow of memory passed onto him and Elbracht learned that his family had not been the only one who had had their fill of betrayal.

-“I do not have your sword, m’lord, Hugh has it” the blacksmith said, “it ain’t a pretty story…” Ceolf hid his eyes again, but Elbracht gave him all his heed.

-“Tell us.” he said.

-“Well, if you wish to know the whole story, then help yourselves! Where should I begin…? O yes! It was on the eve of Elsarmas. Me and the lads were in the tavern, just before the mass. Mister Shelby was boasting about his pigs and chicks, as usual, and mis Heden talked much about her herbs and mushrooms. As for Hugh, he was warily quiet, which was odd for him, since seldom does he lack words to share; he said he was not attending church and that he would meet with us in the inn right after the service. When the mass was over, we headed for the tavern and he wasn’t there.

“At first, I paid no heed to what troubled him, but he was not himself that day; he had been talking much about his folk and the manner in which he left his throng the days before. It seems he repented on turning back against his own kin, not that it mattered to me what business he had with his people, but I was beginning to worry about what might had befallen him, so I left the lads to themselves just ere midnight and went to me workshop. I hoped, I could find him there, for we lived together, you see. Alas, I found no trace of him or any of his belongings—he had packed all of his things and departed hence while I was gone—he left no note and it wasn’t until two days after that I noticed he had taken the sword with him. I surprised meself to know that I wasn’t as angry about it as I was fearful for him. We grew to be good friends, he and I, and he taught me much about his crafts and skills when he worked in me workshop. But he was crossed at me that I had forged the sword in the first place. He said, I had taken advantage of the knowledge of his people and that I had no right to use the crafts he had trusted me with to do anything with it.

“The night you gave me your sword, I met with him back here and he was particularly crossed to see the sword in me hands.

-“‘That blade’ he said, ‘you better give it up to me, now, it belongs neither to you nor to any man who hasn’t the blessing of the dwarf-lord, for it was forged by the knowledge of my kin, which you have unrightfully abused.’

-“‘You needn’t worry, me dear Hugh’ said I, ‘the sword is ours, for the moment, at least, until sir John comes back with our payment.’

“We left it at that, and we said nothing more on the matter thereafter, until a couple of days before the festivities Elsarmas, which for dwarves, apparently, matches a holiday of theirs. He said unto me then:

-“‘In a couple of weeks time, it will be Hurgab-hám, that is the dwarven new year’s eve in the reckoning of my kind, and whilst my folk enjoy the fest on that day, I’ll be dwelling on the thought that I am not among them. On that holy day we honour the memory of old King Hurgab and the knowledge and arts he bequeathed to us. If there is something I regret is having taught you the secrets of my craft that served you well in hammering out a sword and weapons men should not hold as their own.’

“He said little more after that—I was sorry to hear he was not feeling as cheerful as usual—but I did not give much heed to his sorrows. Had I really heard what he was saying, it should have helped me as a warning for what he’d do next. Now that his betrayal has passed, I can see what his mind was up to then, he must have taken the sword to guard the mastery of its forging in the halls of his folk up in Dwarf-Delve, so he could be forgiven for meddling with the likes of me and sharing the secrets of his race with men. Maybe he was right in forsaking me, perhaps ‘tis me whom is to blame; I feel angry and disheartened, both disloyal and blameful; there are few aside from me who may account themselves as both betrayer and betrayed. Had I kept his secrets to meself, none of this would have happened and I would still have my friend by my side.” As he said all of this, Ceolf’s eyes began to well, and subtle streams of tears rolled down beneath his brows but shortly he swept them away. Elbracht sensed in the blacksmith a heart at odds with itself, for he knew that the pain in which he was, was alike his. He had had his share of feuds and though he felt betrayed, he knew in his heart, he cared deeply for his little friend. He did no longer wish to retrieve his sword, as much as he desired to help him to put things right between Ceolf and Hugh.

-“Don’t dwell in those thoughts for too long, friend” said Elbracht, “I know better than most whither they can lead, and too dark is that lonesome pit for you to abide in. I do not blame you for losing my sword; I know it was not your fault, though to you it may seem so, but I must now ask you to join me in my quest, just long enough for me to regain my blade.”

-“A quest, m’lord?” Ceolf asked, “I don’t see a smith be of much use to you in this journey.”

-“O, why, of much use you have become, and much more helpful you may yet become for what lies ahead! For I must ask of you to lead our way to Dwarf Delve, and there your face will be a welcome one, if there is still love for you in Ironborn’s heart. At any right you owe as much, until I can reclaim my sword and part ways from you in peace.”

-“Very well, m’lord” the blacksmith said, “to you I will pledge my hammer and all the crafts and arts in my power, until our agreement is fulfilled.”

The four men talked some more thereafter, sir Frann was curious to know why this ore they talked about was so valuable to lord Elbracht and the blacksmith, but not much was delved in that matter, for it was Nurgiron, and such a precious asset were the weapons forged from it to Harador that Elbracht did not wish to disclose anything about it neither to the King nor to any of his heralds just yet. As for Asadue, long he pondered on what his pupil and Ceolf spoke, for it was evident to him that the blacksmith cut deeply in Elbracht’s heart and yet no words he shared with him that might delay their mission. They stayed the night in Ceolf’s house and the host offered them lodgings as comfortable as he could afford for a lord and his distinguished company, but none slept to well that night for they dreamt of the wrath of dwarves in wars forgotten by the Realm’s lore. Asadue however was learnt in history and he was not only keen to the stories and sagas of the High Men, but thanks to the years he had spent as a student in the archives of Thardys, he had great insight in the legends of old which told of the mythic King Hurgab and their ancient quarrel with the Elder Ones in ages past. However, he did not share these knowledge with any of them save with his pupil to whom he had taught much of this in his younger years.

Come the morrow, the four men ate breakfast at Ye Old Tankard; thereafter they met at the village’s stables and fetched a brown stallion sturdy enough for Ceolf to ride on. Renewed with purpose, the blacksmith appeared stronger than ever and a new light was set on his brow, ready to ride and make amends with his long time friend. In that rekindled spirit, there was an air about Ceolf that fought off bravely the gloomy haze of the morning. With him at his side, Elbracht felt stronger too and he was reassured by his words, always joking about his way with a merry mood. And so the four men left Corfáir, Ceolf rode at the head and he led the way north with greedy speed, Asadue and Elbracht went behind him and last rode sir Frann bearing the king’s banner and to the travellers passing by them on the road Ceolf seemed as a captain of tales and songs that dashed his way through peril and adventure.

Against wind and haze they rode, and a day passed until they could see a great border on the skyline of a vast forest that stretched over hills and slopes green. There the air was fairer and it smelled of showered grass and moist, and still the cold wind blew so bitter that it made them shiver at the size of such view. They galloped on for three hours passed noon and soon they heard the crackling of trees swinging to and fro against the breeze, they had come to the forest that farers called the Dwarfwood west from the Oenic Glade, and presently Elbracht remembered the stories of merchants from Fyore that told of the threat of dwarves and how they ravished traders that handled with precious ores. Now that he was so near their domain, he could sense their manace in the air and on his ears rang the sound of songs and fables forgotten to men’s lore that told of their wrath against the Elder Ones in days of yore.

-“How long until we reach Dwarf-Delve, master Ceolf?” asked Elbracht.

-“It should not be long now, m’lord, we are very nigh” he answered, “I can already smell the iron of dwarves even from here. We should look for a tall hill at the edge of the woods. ‘tis a barren hill. When you spot it, we’ll be there.”

The day turned pale, the clouds stormed grey, and the sound of rain was upon them until they came about a wide glade at the edge of the wood and in the middle rising tall against the blue lay a hill. Unlike the slopes amidst which it stood upon the bank grew no tree and its grass green was bare before them. At the feet of the hill, there was a large stone or rather the white bones of the slope that had been hewn long ago. On the wall, there was a hole that was carved like a door and it was shut by a dark iron fence upon which runes were chiselled of a tongue forlorn that none among them understood.

-“At last, we are come to the kingdom of Dwarf-Delve” said Ceolf proud to have trusted his guts, for he had never been to that place before, and it had only been told to him in stories that Hugh had shared with him in their time together.

-“How shall we pass?” asked sir Frann, “there is neither lock nor keeper at the door. How shall we then make known that we have come?”

-“Patience, sir” said Ceolf, “If there is anything you need to know about dwarves is that they can be deceitful at first glance, and what to you may seem a fence is but an illusion to the eyes of those who do not know their ways. Hugh may have been a bit too talkative for one of his kind, and he said secrets unto me that he should not have whenever he had too much ale or felt sorry for not being among his own. Follow me now!”

Then Ceolf came down from his horse and with his eyes shut, as if taking a leap of faith, he passed right through the fence like a ghost whom neither wall nor door may halt. At bearing witness to this the three men startled and there was awe in their faces.

-“Witchcraft!” said sir Frann, now wielding his sword, “this is the handiwork of the Omynous, for sure! Do not trust this man, he must be some fell spellcaster, we cannot trust him!”

-“Hush now, sir Frann,” said Ceolf quite amused from behind the bars “There is no devilry here safe the deceit of the eyes that restrains faith. For, you see, this is the craft of dwarves and long have they dwelt the earth to muster this kind of magic. Master Hugh told me a good deal about this strange device. He used to say dwarves always put riddles or deceptions such as this to guard the doors to their kingdoms. I had fond memories of stories about this particular tack. At least it was a fence and not a wall. That would have been far harder to guess.”

-“I still don’t understand, how did you manage to enter without opening the fence?” asked Elbracht.

-“That, m’lord, is the magic behind all of this. The fence is not really there; it merely seems to block the passage. The spell is meant to fool strangers so they cannot pass. If an outsider comes about this fence he cannot enter when he sees the pass locked. The trick is to close your eyes and believe yourself welcome, so that no barrier stands in your way. All it takes is to have faith; if you’ve got that covered then you should have no trouble in passing through.”

Presently, Elbracht closed his eyes, sighed for a moment and passed right through the iron. Sir Frann was still shocked but Asadue was amused, he had not seen such a clever device before and he deemed that this magic had a deeper truth to it than it appeared at first sight. Following on Ceolf’s instructions, the mentor shut his eyes and went right through the fence, and then he laughed and was quite pleased. When it was sir Frann’s turn it did not go as planned, he hit the fence over and over again, and for a moment it seemed he would not get it.

-“This is silly” he said “I have done just as you said and still I can’t get through this damned fence.”

-“You’re missing the point, sir” said Ceolf, “the fence is not there, all that it takes is to believe that and that you are welcome, otherwise you’ll have to wait out there in the cold. I cannot say how long we’ll be down here, but you won’t like the company of wolves come the night.”

-“Wolves?” said the king’s herald stirring at the mention of such creatures.

-“Ah yes, lots of them, I think they should call it Wolfswood instead, for many linger here in this time of year. At any rate, you’ll manage, I take it, for you must be a brave knight of the Realm; it takes a lot of courage to be the King’s Herald!”

-“shush now!” said sir Frann, “I will be with you in a moment.”

Shortly thereafter, the king’s herald closed his eyes and stepped through the fence with a shiver. When he opened them he was surprised that he had got it and laughed also along the party.

-“Well, thanks the Gods you are afraid of wolves, sir” said Ceolf amidst the joy, “otherwise you wouldn’t have made it.”

-“I beg your pardon, master Ceolf! I am not afraid of wolves!” replied sir Frann, “You said it yourself, I am a king’s knight.”

-“Yes, but it wasn’t faith what got you through, was it?” Ceolf said, “it was your fear of being feasted on by the wolves what made the trick for you. For, you see, since you thought you had no other choice but to follow us, you felt, you would be safe at the other side of the fence. So hope took the better of you, and you passed right through. If you haven’t faith, then hope of not having another way will do the trick.”

-“I see, now” said sir Frann, “so there aren’t any wolves by these parts it was all just to fool me so I could get through?”

-“O no, the wolves are very real. I don’t often lie about such things, but it is only natural to fear them, so feel no shame about it. For now all that is left for us is to delve deep into the guts of this hill. Walk behind me and do not risk to light a torch, we must be like shadows down here, at least until we get to the main hall. There it will be too late for the dwarf-lord to cast us out. Henceforth, keep your thoughts to yourselves and your tongues behind your teeth.”

And so they went ever deeper into the halls of Dwarf-Delve. Darkness loomed before them and all what they could make out were the black walls against their shoulders. Hours went by walking until they came about an empty great tunnel which was far larger than what was needed for the likes of little folk to pass through. There lanterns were lit and still they walked in the shades somewhere by the corner where they could not be seen. A scent was in the air of dirt and earth that was not foul and yet queer to the nose, it smelled also of smoke and iron fumes which reminded them of Ceolf’s house and then they heard loud clangs as of hammers against the anvil that echoed on the walls from deep under the ground. Soon they came about a great golden hall; there the light of sconces glittered on the floor so they could no longer remain in the shadows.

In that great hall a large throng of dwarves was gathered, they feasted on each’s other fortunes and shared good wishes with one another. There was a large pool in the middle of a golden liquid from which all filled their horns. On the tables there were served rich meals but they were not as plentiful as were the golden forks and knives and silver plates and chalices with which they ate and drank. There were pillars that were hewn as idols of mighty warriors and lords of their lore and the ceiling was tall and light beamed from a hole that mirrored on the pool and then the walls. From the roofs great standards of dark green were hung and on a canopy by the end of the hall, there was a high chair that unlike the ores from which the hall was worked, was of rusty iron and upon it sat the likeness of a strong dwarf that was awesome and more fearsome that all the heroes of gold therein carved, and yet he was old, far older than trees or mountains he seemed, his beard was long and grey, his crown was of silver, and upon it were carved runes like those chiselled on the fence but they told of tales and mighty names that were forgotten to the minds of men. By his side stood Hugh Ironborn clad in wine and on his face there was a sadness that matched the sorrows Ceolf had shown in his workshop, back in Corfáir.

For a while they ignored the tall men, for though they walked among them, they were in the company of Ceolf, and to them he appeared so tough and strong that he seemed to be one of their own. But at last one of them spoke and the king heard that they spoke the common speech and not the tongue of dwarves which was holy to them. “Tresspassers!” one yelled at them and soon the dwarves surrounded them, wielding axes and hammers. Then the king stood from his chair and in thundering voice he spoke to them.

-“Tresspassers in our abodes! How have you come to the halls of Dwarf-Delve on this day?”

-“O King, we have come through the gate and we bear no ill will to you.” said Ceolf, now bowing low “We are friends to a dwarf among your kind; in the tongue of men he is called Hugh Ironborn, and in good spirits we are come to make amends with him.”

Then the king laughed but he did not lower his voice nor did he lessen the threat upon them, “Hugh Ironborn say you?” he said, “you don’t mean by any chance my son Hwulgabad. Come forth boy!” he yelled at him now turning on his back and Hugh stepped towards them. He now seemed fearful. As a dog tamed by his master, he stood by his father and would not look up to them.

-“These men, claim to know you. Do you ken them? Alas, if you do, for dwarves don’t share their business with men as I have told you many times.” But Hugh said nothing, he kept his eyes on the ground and his tongue sealed behind his lips. “Look up, boy, do you recall their faces?”

-“I do not know them, father” he answer with a stutter, “I don’t deal with the likes of men.”

-“So they are liars as well as tresspassers, is that so?” said the king, “So you don’t mind if I dispose of them? Fetch the rack, we shall stretch the truth out of them!”

Upon hearing this, Hugh’s face turned pale and felt a twitch of fear that widened his eyes. “No, thou can’st!” he said, “I take back what I said. I do know them, father, at least two of them. Praythee show them some mercy!”

-“So you lie to the face of your father and king? You hadn’t enough in sharing the secrets of our kindred with men, you also lie for them to my face. And since, they stand before me now, they must have passed through the fence with knowledge you have given onto them. Shame on you! Thanks Kwínta*(1) your mother is not here to see what you have become!”

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-“Do not talk to him like that!” raged Ceolf, “Your son has been nothing but a friend to me, be it that you wish to punish him then pass his blame to me, for ‘twas I who betrayed his trust. ‘Twas I who forged the sword!”

-“So you are the one, my son has talked so much about; Shame on both of you, on my son for meddling with men, and on you who perverted our arts!” said the king.

-“Enough with this madness!” Elbracht bravely said, “No one needs to die here. If anyone is to blame that would be me, for, though Hugh trusted onto Ceolf the knowledge of his folk and he hammered out what he should not have, it was I who made him forge the sword for me along with many other weapons and gear that Ceolf has fashioned with the same knowledge.”

-“So there is more dwarven wrought hardware that you have claimed for yourself, render them to me now, for I, Fulgabad, son of Hjelgabad, King of Dwarf-Delve, am their rightful owner.”

-“That can be arranged, O King, but only if you give me your word that you will do no harm to me or my comrades.” Elbracht said.

-“And who is this that choseth to take on all the guilt? With what right do you claim the arms of my kin or the secrets by which they were forged?”

-“I have every right to be judged, for I am Elbracht, son of Elreck, Lord of Keor and it was by my leave that I asked master Ceolf to do what he did, though at the time I did not know it.”

Presently, the king sneered and looking around the faces of his people, he sniggered. Then, he said, “You mean to tell me, you are Urme’s scion? Why on Ygdar’s*(2) good earth should I believe you? I kenned him well and you have neither the brown of his hairs nor the blue of his eyes.”

-“You knew Urme Elfbane, King?” asked the lord of Ceor.

-“Well, of course!” answered the king, “He was my brother in arms, and my associate.”

-“Why, then, quarrel with your son when you had business with men, yourself?”

-“Those were different times. By those days, men esteemed our race and looked up to us for aid and advice. It was by Urme’s grace that we first came about this dwelling. He gave us these woods and the hill that we have taken for our abodes as a reward for having fought alongside him to defeat the Wood-elves long ago. These halls were of yore the mansion of the Elf-king ere we took it for our home. When the war was over, there was a truce between the men of the south and us, and we agreed that we would keep to ourselves thenceforth and men forgot our names and no songs were sung of our exploits in that war.”

-“That cannot be!” said Elbracht, “It was not until of late that we first learned that you had taken up shelter in the woods.”

-“Nay, as I said, we were forlorn by your kind,” replied the king, “we have dwelt here for far longer than you think and whilst kings perished and the lordship of this land has passed down to many sons, we have remained here, quiet under the shadows of the earth.”

-“Then, why has it not been until now that you have chosen to show yourselves?” asked Elbracht, “I have heard stories of travellers and traders that say your folk have ravished of metal and precious ores. Since I am lord here I should bring you to justice, these crimes must be answered for!”

-“Is that a threat, boy?” said the king defiantly, “I shall not stand such insolence to my face. It’s not our fault that we have been restrained to these woods. Long have we lingered here, keeping the truce, but now our mines have run dry, and there is little else we can do here. By need of work, we have been forced to venture into the country and, what little metal we could get our hands upon, we have brought hither to found after our own fashion.”

-“So, you see?” said Elbracht, “we have wronged each other. You attack traders that enter my kingdom and we make weapons with the knowledge of your kind. I dare say we are even now. If you forgive us for entering your domain uninvited, I shall turn a blind eye to this wrong doings and we shall keep the hardware we have forged with your secrets, as payment for what your men have done to those who have come to trade with ores but no harm shall come your way. I give you my word as lord of Keor.”

-“It sounds fair, but I still have no grounds to believe you are who you claim to be.”

There was silence for a moment and the king pondered long on what to do next. The four men were still surrounded and their lives, threatened, but Ceolf was not afraid, in his mind he was still troubled by what had come to pass and if he were to die, he wished to part with Hugh as friends. Hugh was concerned and also afraid that a word from his father might end the life of his blacksmith friend. Not long thereafter the king spoke again and a precious memory was set on his brow with which he meant to test Urme’s heir.

-“I’ve got it!” he said, “As I said, Urme Elfbane and I were good friends and ended the war against the elves we feasted in a hamlet which in the tongue of men is known as Corfáir. There we drank lots of ale until night passed and our heads were light. The ale was bitter and had no good smack but our victory made us feel that all what we drank tasted of glory. I remember very fondly that Urme had a great endurance which matched that of us, dwarves. Since today is Hurgab-hám, I shall give you a chance to prove that you are who you claim to be; I challenge you to a drinking contest. If you took after your forefather, then you shall not gag or retch. Be it that you win, I shall take your word. But if you faint, I will bring the rack and stretch you all, until you whine out who you really are.”

The four men were led to the other side of the pool near the king’s chair and there a table was laid and the dwarves filled many mugs and tankards with ale from the pool. The hall echoed with the sounds of cheers and laughter as the king and the young lord faced each other in drinking contest. The tables were lined with mugs of ale and mead, and the air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and spiced bread. The king, a grizzled old hand of many such games, raised his mug and downed the ale in one gulp. The young lord, eager to prove himself, matched the king drink for drink, and guzzled his own tankard with likewise ease.

As the light from the hole dwindled and turned blue marking the break of the night, the mugs of ale and mead continued to flow, and the game grew fiercer. The king and the young lord matched each other beer after beer, neither willing to back down or show weakness. The crowd roared as the young lord stumbled, nearly falling from his seat. For a moment it seemed that he would faint, sealing his comrades’ doom and his own. But he quickly regained his bearing, slamming his empty mug on the table and shouting for another round. The king grinned, amazed by the young lord's endurance, and waved his hand for his butler to fetch more ale and mead. The game went on, with each round bringing more cheers and laughter, whilst fear and terror was in the faces of Elbracht’s fellowship. Amidst their worries, the dwarves began to sing in their tongue of old stories of Urme and their fight against the elves.

Ûrun ku gabadón freyn,

Gudúma kar abádreyn,

I th’ring bur stainýgdur

I tríng ku dûm’nintur.

Úrmar ilbwólk ai feysund,

Vúl’mar i vúl kaífund.

Nwo dúr badá dûmahad,

Nintlus ähim úldgabad.

Finally, after many an hour and rounds of beer, the king and the young lord faced each other with stern looks. They raised their mugs in a final toast, each bowing to the other's strength and forbearance. In the end, king Fulgabad gaged, his face turned red and then retched into a bucket. Quietness followed and Elbracht emerged victorious, outlasting the king and proving himself a worthy heir of Urme Elfbane. The king, gracious in defeat, clapped the young lord on the back and praised him for his skill. But there was a red flicker in his eyes and bitterness beneath his brows that matched the stench of his mouth.

-“Well done, lord Urmesson! You have shown me to be the true blood of your forefather. Now, I will give you a special honour which none among men, but Urme himself was given in days of old. You will drink from the king’s horn! Fetch the Mworhúrna!” he said now in dwarven tongue.

The king’s butler brought forth a brown drinking horn, on its surface shapes were carved of kings old and runes of powerful spells in the tongue of dwarves. The bone had belonged to a large mammoth that king Fulgabad’s forebear had slaughtered in the Long Winter*(3) and it seemed to Elbracht that the beauty of such horn was not for a lord like him, great though he may be, for it was so lavish that he deemed, only kings could drink from it.

-“‘Tis a fine horn, Good King” he said, “Alas, I cannot drink from it for it would be an insult to the memories of the mighty kings for whom it was meant.”

-“It would also be an insult to reject a king’s offer, my lord” said the old dwarf, “So go on, have a sip!”

Elbracht looked at the butler and then at the horn. He knew, the king was right. To refuse a gift from him, especially one as gracious as Fulgabad, would be a grave insult. He reached out and took the horn, feeling its weight in his hand. It was heavier than he foresaw, it felt hard and heavy. He lifted the horn to his lips and drank deeply. The ale inside was strong, but it was also sweet and refreshing. He could taste the honey and spices in it, and it warmed him from the inside out. He drank until the horn was empty, and then handed it back to the butler with great care.

What came next no song tales, but he later told Asadue in better detail of what he felt and saw once he drank from the horn. As the sweet ale filled his mouth, something quaint happened. The hall began to spin, and the faces of the dwarves around him blurred and twisted into gnarled shapes. Then he heard a voice that seemed to come from deep within the horn itself. It was a voice like the rumble of distant thunder, deep and loud. To Elbracht's amazement, the walls and pillars, the ceiling and floor, all faded, swapped for a strange, fey view. He saw mountains of gold and silver, glittering afar, and deep caverns filled with jewels of every hue. He saw blue skies with seas of shades and clouds and large vessels of white sails that voyaged over them, and the winds were like waves that foamed against their prows, at the helm of every ship there were tall kings whose skin shimmered gold under the sunlight. Down bellow that heavenly tide, he saw armies of dwarves marching across the land into the woods, their weapons and gear gleaming under the sky. He saw their clash against the Wood-elves and amidst their ranks rising tall and proud like a hero of old stood lord Urme wielding Elfbane, his ax by which he later would be known.

The view swiftly shifted, and Elbracht found himself looking at his own race, the High Men. He saw them locked in bitter warfare, fighting each other, blood against blood, for the rule of their lands. He saw their cities burning, people crying, souls leaving their bodies and he felt a surge of sorrow and despair. The sight shifted again, and to his jolt, Elbracht found himself standing before a great and dreadful dragon, its scales red as wrath and its eyes gleaming green with greed. He felt a sudden fear, wondering if that was his end, if he had been brought there to die, yet as the beast opened its mouth to swallow him whole its breath bursted into fire; the flames wrapped him until they turned to smoke and fumes but then they sundered.

Last he saw a huge gap cut between the mountains and beyond it lay a vast country covered in ashes and embers and upon it clouds wept frozen tears that melted on the clinkery slopes and fields. It seemed to be deep in winter and yet there was no trace of snow or frost but the winds blew cold and the air was filled with haze and smog as if a fiery battle had befallen upon those lands not long ago, so awful and terrible that no corse was left to mourn. And then the young lord saw Him. Standing dreary and ominous like a herald of doom upon the dead mead was a Black Knight. In his hands he bore a sword that looked as though it was forged from black fire. His face was hidden behind a hood, with glowing red eyes that seemed to pierce him through the gloom. As Elbracht watched, the knight raised his sword and let out a terrible, blood-curdling cry. Shortly, the ground trembled, and a horde of twisted creatures rose up from the earth as if dead brought back to life. The Black Knight charged forward to meet him and his sword led forth the dead, screaming and howling. Elbracht quivered in terror as the armies approached him but then they clashed against ghosts that rushed down from behind to shield him.

For what felt like hours, Elbracht watched as the battle raged on. The dead fighting wraiths and amidst the horror another cry was heard, the Black Knight's armour shattered, his sword was broken. Then, dead and ghosts alike crawled back into the dirt until only the black knight remained, lying on the ground nigh his end. Elbracht rushed to him moved both by fear and hope. He gave him the shards of his blade and finally said unto him:

-"Beware, brother," he said. "Darkness is coming. The Enemy is at hand." And so the Black Knight passed away like mist on the wind that cowered away from the storm. Amids the haze a great echo came rolling over the fields and boomed against the mountains, and after it loomed ever closer to him from behind the slopes and banks of the country a large shadow, rising tall, towering over him with eyes darker even that its black mantle, and in its hand was doom itself like a mace with which it meant to crush him. The shadow lifted Doom high above the clouds and before the strike fell upon him the vision was removed.

As if rising up from a terrible nightmare, the hues and shapes he had seen dwindled away like a dying light and all came back to him; he saw the ceiling, the floor, the walls and pillars tall and gold, he had returned to the halls of dwarves. And what to him had been days of journeying through peril and quest was but a wink of time in the real world. He saw about him the faces of his fellow men and of dwarves with wide eyes staring at him. Yet none was more shocked than the king himself. He looked at him as if seeking a ghost within his eyes and then he spoke.

-“How do you feel, young lord?” he said, dazed to see he was still enduring.

-“I am quite alright,” answered Elbracht amazed by his own health and bearing.

-“By my beard, you are stronger than I thought!” said the king, “you should have heaved and retched, but you seem sound and well.”

-“Nay, I feel neither weary nor sick, but even now my senses may deceive me, for until a moment ago I was not here. In my mind, I was in many places for years beyond reckoning. I have ventured into the past, I have felt the flow of time, many ages went by before my eyes and yet it seems that only a second has passed.”

-“Hödar*(4), save us all!” said the king in greater awe still, “I beg your forgiveness, my lord, for I wished to trick you with this honour. I was jealous to have lost to you, and since no man can withstand a drink from this horn without throwing up, I deemed you would do the same, and still then I’d have made you victor, for not even lord Urme, in his great strength, was able to keep his bearing after a taste from that vessel.

“That effect should the horn have among men, but should from it drink one of higher race the horn will prompt visions and summon ghosts of yore to him. To those to which memory is a higher treasure than silver or sapphires, the horn will tell to them truths and secrets of what may come to pass. And to one who is close to gods and hides within him powers that men should not wield, the horn will show him a great sun which light breaks the world with colour and might or else an ominous darkness that smasheth Ygdar’s good earth with doom. Tell me, young lord, what of these things have you seen?”

Elbracht’s heart grew deep and heavy as he remembered all what had befallen before his eyes and sorrow and pain rolled down to him as he answered:

-“All of them.”

A dreary silence followed, and so deep were all in thought and wonder that the very heart of the earth could be heard beating deep and low from down beneath the roots of the world. King Fulgabad nodded his head in earnest and then he said:

-"You have seen much, young lord," he said. "More than any mortal man should bear. But you need not tell me as of now of what you saw, for I do not wish to stir any foreboding back to you, and fear not, for you have endured, and have shown yourself to be strong of heart and will. I take back all my threats from before and henceforth you and your fellowship are ever welcome in my halls.

“For now, let us put aside these heavy thoughts," he said. "Let us feast on your victory in our little contest. You have shown yourself to be a worthy heir of my old marrer Urme, and your friends too may have a mug or two of ale if they have a mouth for it. Today is Hurgab-hám! Let us be merry!"

With that, the king clapped his hands, and servants entered the room, carrying trays of food and drink. Elbracht found himself swept up in the jollity, and for a time, he forgot about the visions he had seen and the weight upon his shoulders. But deep down, he knew that his journey was far from over.

The tables were laden with all manner of meals, from tender boar meat to crisp, buttery rolls. The dwarves, in their finest garments, moved about the hall, laughing and shouting greetings to one another in every tongue and jargon they knew. The sound of music filled the air, as minstrels played upon their harps and lutes. The flickering light of torches and candles cast a warm glow upon the tables and the ale pool and a fire was lit in a great hearth that roared and crackled with flames of every hue, and voices came out thence as though queer magic had been summoned. But not all were jovial, upon Ceolf a shadow was set and he dwelt still on the memory of his own perfidy. He was surprised to see Hugh approaching him, as he had thought that the dwarf would never again want to speak with him. Nevertheless, he stood his ground and awaited the dwarf's words.

-"Hail, Ceolf," said Hugh, his voice heavy with regret. “Do not flee from me, I come bearing no ill will.”

-“I would gladly believe you, marrow Hugh, or should I say m’lord Hwulgabad, as people call you in these parts.” answered Ceolf feeling he had been deceived all along. His little friend had hidden his true face and standing behind a common name all that time, and yet it was not this lie what made him so sad.

-“I am the man you came to know,” said Hugh “and though I am called other names by my own, to you I will always be Hugh Ironborn; a friend, if you still will. What say you?”

-“It was my wish to come hither so as to make amends with you, but it is hard to call one a friend if he denies knowing him even when he is come in good heart.” As Ceolf said this, Hugh sighed and shared in the deep sadness of his friend.

-“Forgive me, master Ceolf” he said, “I understand if you can no longer bear to look at one who has betrayed you.” Hugh attempted to leave but then Ceolf stood up in a jolt and said unto him,

-“Ay, you have wronged me,” he said, “but naught have I done that you haven’t done yourself to me. I am willing to forget and forgive. Long have we been friends and I do not wish to curse the hour of our first meeting. So pray, is there any room in your heart to do the same for me?” Hugh looked at him with welling eyes, and Ceolf said to him, “I care not about secrets or swords, only to have a friend by me side.”

Ceolf and Hugh embraced and forgave each other, and their reunion was followed by cheers and laughter, and the king raised his horn high and blessed their friendship. “Let no man untie what love has bound! May you be merry friends as of old was I with Urme Elfbane!” and all ate and drank to the music of the fire and though night had come outside, deep in those halls of Dwarf-Delve, it seemed that the sun had taken home there. Then the king spoke again to Ceolf.

-“Master Blacksmith!” he said “though you misused the secrets of our kindred and betrayed the trust of my son, I wish to praise you, for, putting all of that aside the sword you forged is like nothing I had seen before.” Then the king brought forth the sword and showed it again to Ceolf, “the hilt is tough and yet fair, the blade sharp and bright, and under the sun it shines as if a star was caught in its steel. You have the hands of dwarves but the muscle of men. I would be honoured if you wished to offer me your hammer and live here working with what little stone or iron is left in these mines.” The blacksmith bowed down to the king and rendered to him his hammer, his toil and his sweat.

Elbracht sat right to the king and he had heard all that Ceolf and Hugh had spoken, and the offer the king made to the blacksmith. Moved by something within his heart and at the same time prompting some relief in his mind, Elbracht recalled a grave conversation he had had with general Caradon months ago, and it seemed that if either by chance or fate, he had come with a solution for that predicament.

-“Good King Fulgabad!” he said, “mayhaps it is by the Gods’ grace and by the hand of destiny that I should come to you on this day. For I may be of better help to you now than any king or prince may be.”

-“What is it then, my young lord Elbracht, that you wish to render us help with?” asked the king.

-“Work.” said Elbracht, “As master Ceolf well knows, I have mines to the south of here in the tall mountains of Harath, and deep beneath a fortress we call Cigord. There we have come about a powerful ore which has aided us in our exploits for many years now. Long and well has it served us to forge with it weapons and gear better than those of our foes. Alas, now only slaves remain there and many lives have fallen to the persuit of quarrying and fashioning this metal. It seems that by good fortune I have come to you in your darkest hour, when the need of work and graft is dire.

“As erstwhile did you with my forefather, I lay before you another truce; that you may abide in the mines beneath Cigord and take those caves as your home and kingdom. There you may be of greater help than in this tomb of gold where you yearn to put your secrets to good use. But you must swear that you will share with me and my people only the fruits of your labour. Do this and between our races our league of old shall be reforged and you shall honour the memory of my ancestor and your friend. What say you, Good King Fulgabad?”

King Fulgabad stood quietly and stern, his beard flowing down to his chest as he listened intently to the words of the young lord. His mind raced as he pondered on the offer at hand. Could he and his people truly find a new home in the mines beneath Cigord? Would it be a safe haven for his kindred, a place where they could thrive once more? But as he looked into the earnest eyes of Elbracht and heard the conviction in his voice, King Fulgabad knew that this was a chance no sane man would miss. For too long, had his people languished in the gilded halls of Dwarf-Delve, their once great kingdom now reduced to the embers of its former flames. If they were to outlive the scorn of time, they needed to find a new home, a new hope.

And so, with deep breath, King Fulgabad stood in thought and memory but then he turned to Urme's scion and saw the light of stars in his eyes, glimmering like dreamful hanker beneath his brows.

-"Lord Elbracht of Keor," he began, his voice ringing out across the hall, "your offer is a heartful one, and one that none with sound mind can refuse. What say I? I say Yea! Let us remake our truce and honour this agreement of new. We will make the mines beneath Cigord our new home. We will work alongside your people and share with you the fruits of our labour with same ardour and faith with which we fought against the elves of the woods shoulder to shoulder with your forefather."

The hall blew up in gladness and mirth. Names were hailed, and hands clapped, as the dwarves rose to their feet, their spirits lifted by the dream of a new beginning. King Fulgabad smiled as he watched them, his heart filled with hope rekindled.

-"Let us go forth, my kindred, my warriors and smiths, my axmen and delvers, my brothers and sisters," he said, raising his arms in joy. "Let us carve deep under new shadows, let us birth fire and sparkle, let us smash the anvil loud and strong so the roots of the earth hear that the song of dwarves has been resung! Let us forge a new fate, one that will hold high our sires’ names, one that will keep alive our secrets of old and bring glory and fame to dwarf-doom once more. Let the hammers fall! Let the iron ring! Let the voice of dwarves cry brave to the wind!"

Upon saying that the hall bursted into hails and tears, and the dwarves then sang in solemn mood on the memory of tales and songs until then unheard by men’s ears.

Badúr ku skäd’dagur,

Mágur bur Hurgab-dur.

Limbúd hum stondhén,

Gulúd kur harodhén.

Drûgha i frod urgath’ron,

Vúl’mar i bur hwegabón.

Hámar’fjel yön ol feydh,

Dagum rist höbadeydh.

The mood then rose again and there were merry cheers that echoed deep under the halls and mines for many long years. The spirits were held high for many an hour thereafter. There was laughter again and more drinking games, this time without the threat of death pending on their neck. The pool of ale almost emptied as mugs were filled and drunk over and over again. The many-hued flames of the great hearth had been redused to embers and cinder and the voice that once came from it became only a whisper that was hushed by songs and laughter. When the feast came to an end the four men were given cozy bed for them to dream on, but Elbracht went late to sleep. He remained with king Fulgabad until sunrise and they spoke of many tales and sagas of forlorn lore. The dwarf-lord told him of Urme’s war and of how his folk had first come to the Realm of Men; it was in the frosty reign of Nimphada that they escaped their freezing halls of old in the north, and long they wandered across snowy wastelands until they found themselves in Harador. Then Elbracht told him of his vision and the things he was shown, of the mountains and caverns, of the flying ships and battles, of the wars of men and the dragon, the Black Knight and the shadow. And though no bards put to songs whereon their thoughts dwelt, there was a stern look in the king’s face and he abided long in that omen thereupon.

Come the morrow, the four men rose from their beds, in the great hall only a few dwarves were left, they lay on their backs idled by wine and ale, and those that were awake served the left overs of the feast to them. There they ate breakfast, and Hugh was there with them, happy to see his friend would remain with him in his home. Then they ready themselves to leave and once outside their horses were gone, for a trace was on the ground that over the night wolves had come and if the mounts had been eaten or ran away from peril they did not know, but sir Frann was glad that he had made it through the fence before he could tell; ‘Alas if I hadn’t made it for I would had been devoured otherwise. Hence forth I shall always be quick to have faith’ he thought to himself. But for the present they would struggle, for the next town was miles away and now they’d have to walk for long.

Then out from of the fence came a guard of dwarves and behind them followed king Fulgabad. To him both wind and light were new, and under the sun it seemed he was made of stone and gold Elbracht bowed his head and the rest of his fellowship knelt low to him.

-“Long have I lingered in the darkness of my halls,” the king said “and now the air is fresh, the sun is young, and naught seems to be as it was of yore. Soon I will lead my people out from this wretched hole away from the forsaken wood-mansion of elves, so I must learn to love this new world. Whither shall go now, my lord?”

-“To the north, Good King,” said Elbracht, “Fyore is our next stop.”

-“A long road lies ahead, but tell me, you don’t mean to walk all the way thither?”

-“We had horses to ride as we came here, Alas, the wolves in the woods must have scared them away lest they were feasted on by them.”

-“I cannot offer you new steeds to mount, my lord, for seldom we ride,” said the king “but I can give you this.” In his hands there was a sheathed sword and he hand it over to the young lord. He had seen it many times before, but now its steel shone under a new light, much brighter and lighter it seemed yet far deadlier. Upon its blade runes were carved that Elbracht could not reed, and a gem of blue was embedded in the pommel.

-“Here is the brand you have sought, the blade you call Oakenjaw, but in the tongue of dwarves it has gained another name; Súnthaz, which in the common speech means ‘Sooth’, and news runes we have inscribed, that read ‘wield me against lies, truth will bow to thee’. If what you have told me is true and a new, ominous enemy is at hand, then you will be armed by dwarves. The secrets by which this sword was forged made it a mighty weapon against all manner of foes. So far you have only wielded it unrightfully, but now I give it to you with the blessing of the king and his folk, and in your hands alone it will have a power that only dwarf-friends hold.

“Like a torch in the dark, this sword will help you discern what is hidden from you, and reveal what lies behind the veil of deceit. Not many count themselves as worthy of this power and few will be able to beguile you, but Sooth is a blade of double edge, and though it may help you see in the darkness of falsehood, it can also compel your tongue to remain in the light of truth. First, it will be hard to wield but once you learn your way around sooth, its powers shall pass onto you. The prayers of dwarves and men go with you, may Kwínta be your shield and Rödro*(5) be your sword. Farewell, Lord Elbracht Urmesson!”

And so lord Elbracht, mentor Asadue and sir Frann Velour departed from the barren hill. In sir Frann’s mind, there was much doubt and many times he asked the lord of Ceor what ore was meant whereof he spoke with the dwarf-lord, but against his own will he felt forced to say that it was very precious to him. On the way to Fyore as the sun sat on its throne behind the clouds, Elbracht told Asadue in length and depth of what he had seen as he drank from the king’s horn.

-“What worries me most is the figure of the Black Knight, a terrible power was in his hands, and behind him an army of death followed.” he said, “I fear that I know the knight rather too well, for it was the same man sir Frann gave an account of, the monk that went rogue and now trains men of the cloth for war; the Black Knight is Carédock, I am sure of it. In the vision, as he lay near his end he called me ‘brother’ and then passed away into mist and fog. If there is any truth to what I saw, the Black Knight will be a perilous foe in days to come, and if the Gods are cruel again, my hand shall be forced to duel him, ‘Blood against blood’, that I saw, and then a terrible darkness that smashes me with its mace, which will rise tall to reign over a realm of ash and gloom.”

-“If what you say is true, my pupil” said Asadue, “You must keep your sword by you, for not just you, but the whole world will be clashed with Doom. And if the Black Knight is truly your brother Carédock, then we must go in greater haste, for even now we may be in time to save him form that terrible fate.”