“Chieftain, the scouts have come back,” said Wulden. Gund left the tent and walked to the edge of the camp. The people had made the stone wall cleverly, with a series of passages that only a dwarf could navigate. The scouts were followed by a long line of refugees, mostly guildsmen, and a small group of elders from the citadel. Among them were Zukuz and Runa, and trailing at the back of the group was Audun.

“Audun!” shouted an angry voice. Gund turned and saw a shrivelled hag who could barely stand under the weight of all her jewelry. Behind her was a pair of strong young men whose eyes looked small and close together. Audun clung to Runa. “Are you his mother?” she asked.

“Yes,” said the hag, “and he’ll come right here if he knows what’s good for him!”

“Go along, child,” Runa said kindly. Audun refused to let go, and Zukuz had to firmly pry him free and carry him to his family.

“Chieftain!” Runa and Zukuz said together.

“I’m glad to see you both!” Gund said. They both embraced him, then followed him into his tent. The morning was hot and they were eager for shade.

“Who of the king’s house has survived?” Zukuz asked urgently while a porter served him and Runa food and cider.

“All, so far as we know,” Gund replied. “Grar and Halfi are captive, though. We heard the citadel was under attack, and Grar left with a portion of the Diamond Born. I sent Ror after him and held the eastern gate as long as I could before we were overwhelmed.”

He heard Ror’s voice speaking outside the tent, then he came inside.

“Sweet boy,” Runa said. She went to Ror and held him tightly. Zukuz then embraced him as well. “We’d be lost if you weren’t here,” she said.

“We’d be lost if Gund hadn’t rung the bell” Ror replied. “Gund, has Audun been here this whole time?”

“He just arrived with Zukuz and Runa.”

“We found him wandering about the foothills,” said Zukuz.

“Was he alone?” Ror asked.

“Yes. And the poor boy seemed too shaken to speak.”

“I doubt it,” Ror said, “he probably just didn’t want to and pretended. He was with Idana and the other children of the citadel. I’ll have to question him later. Wulden!”

Wulden peeked back into the tent. “Highness?”

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“Find someone to ready chambers for Zukuz and Runa. Nothing elaborate, though. We aren’t staying long.”

They spent the rest of the morning going over their plans. The passage to Cloud Hammer was not without danger, and they would need to have a clear idea of how to keep the people safe and together.

“Snowlions and cave bears infest the slopes of the northern spire,” Zukuz said as they looked over a map of the mountains. The Ladder to the Moon was shaped like a four pointed star, with the northern and southern spires far longer than the east and west. Cloud Hammer was a four day march due north for a small group of hardy dwarves, but would take significantly longer for the thousands of citizens with children and the very old.

“Are you set on Cloud Hammer?” asked Runa.

“What would you suggest?” Gund asked.

“We stay right here. We can set a strong guard and spare the people from an arduous journey. Then we focus on mustering a new force to take back the kingdom with.”

“If we go to Cloud Hammer,” Gund replied, “we’ll have their resources at our disposal, not to mention access to a hub of swift communication.”

“We’ll be hard pressed to feed everyone here,” Ror added, “and we’ll be far from the reach of our enemies in Cloud Hammer. Also, we might be able to persuade them to allow us use of a telescope. Then we could keep a close eye on Thrond while we plan our counter strike.”

Runa nodded. “When do we leave?”

“Three days,” said Ror. “We need to assess the state of our people, hear back from scouts, and make certain all the stragglers have been found. Then we take Valengald north for as long as we can. Hopefully we’ll be able to minimize the amount of travelling we do above ground.”

All nodded their agreement, and Zukuz and Runa went to see what they could do to comfort the people. Ror and Gund decided on a time and place to wait for the Bear Riders sent to High Alden, and then Gund went to look for young men to arm. By mid afternoon he had two hundred or so young men lined up with sparring blades and unsharpened pikes. He and Ganly ran them through a few hours of basic forms, then arranged for them all to shadow experienced soldiers for the entirety of their sojourn. He’d decided to retire for the night after a dip in the Sholai. He almost fell asleep on a rock while drying off in the evenfall sun. The night was warm and still, and starlight beamed down from the sparsely clouded sky. A nightglow moth landed on the edge of the rock while he was lacing his boots. The moth twitched its luminescent wings intermittently, undisturbed by the sounds of fires, sizzling food and the pounding of hammers. If it weren’t his thoughts of his dear friends and rulers being tortured in the mountain, he would have found the evening to be very pleasant.

He’d chosen to share his tent with the other captains and their ranking lieutenants in order to reserve more ground for the citizens. Wulden slept soundly, surprisingly free of snoring for a man with such a large nose. Ganly was a different matter, and the following morning Gund would learn that he snored as well. He’d unlaced his boots, stripped down to his small clothes, and slid under his furs, when his bladder demanded his immediate attention. Grumbling and cursing the Titans, he slid back on his boots and threw on a robe, then went out to relieve himself. That’s when he saw the blood and heard the shouts.

A man had been struck on the head with a rock where he was about to make his water, then dragged into the night and savagely beaten. Ror had the matter in hand, fortunately, and Gund heard the whole tale as the young prince, now acting as king, drew it from the onlookers. The man was one of the deserters Ror and Buri found while in disguise. A woman who’s husband and two sons were slain in the defense of Ormazum rallied a group of other recently widowed women to attack him. Ror had the attackers lined up and was soon wringing tears out of them, using his uncanny gift for exposing a person’s buried with no more than his quick tongue. Gund sighed deeply, did his business, and with a worried heart went back to his cot.