The doom of dragonback, p.13
The Doom of Dragonback, page 13
‘My wrist,’ Haldora said, losing almost all sense of what was happening as the weight of what had passed during the night crowded into her thoughts. She held up her left hand, limply holding her axe. ‘I hurt my wrist too.’
‘Hangir will see to that too, no doubt.’ Nakka sat her down on a pack. ‘Rest and I’ll fetch you a brew. Glorri had a pot on before they attacked, must be just about ready by now.’
‘You’re cut,’ Haldora said, noticing a gash across Nakka’s left cheek as he turned towards the fire. He glanced back at her, raising a finger to the wound.
‘This? Wolf claw.’ He looked around at the dead animals and goblins and nodded towards one that had a yellowish tinge to its fur. ‘That fellow there. Going to make a nice cloak.’
‘Oh, I hadn’t thought…’ Haldora stood up. Nakka was immediately beside her, holding her arm.
‘Where are you going?’
‘The sentry. I think it was Jollson.’ She pictured his dead face in the moonlight, splashed with blood.
‘We’ll fetch him back,’ said Nakka.
‘I’ll help. I don’t want anybody doing me favours, not on account of me being beardless.’
‘This ain’t about you being of the maidenly persuasion.’ He rubbed his forehead, a sign of exasperation, and looked meaningfully at her shoulder. ‘You’re injured!’
‘Right.’ She felt a bit foolish.
‘I best get on,’ said Nakka. She nodded and he started to walk away.
‘Nakka?’
He stopped and looked back. ‘Aye?’
‘You were magnificent. In the fight, I mean.’
‘I was?’ He sounded and looked far too pleased with such a compliment, and then realised it. His grin faded and he tried to look dignified. ‘Nice of you to say so.’
‘There’s something I need from you.’ Haldora winced as she tried to reach out to him. ‘Something only you can do for me.’
Nakka walked back, a bit of a swagger in his step. He glanced around and saw that there was nobody paying them any attention.
‘Is there now?’ he said, leaning close, voice low. ‘And what might that be?’
‘I need you to teach me how to fight. Properly, I mean.’
‘Oh.’ Nakka couldn’t hide his disappointment. It was as though every part of him sagged, including his beard. Then he realised what she was asking and his brow furrowed. ‘Oh.’
‘Pa showed me the basics, but he’s no warrior. He manned a catapult during the war. Skraffi’s experienced but I don’t think he has the energy for it anymore.’
‘Your father’s brave. Just because he was with the war machines doesn’t take away from that. Many’s the dwarf who gave his life besieging every one of them Grimnir-cursed elf cities.’
‘It’s not about his bravery, Nakka. But axeplay and hammercraft aren’t really in his repertoire of talents. If I wanted to know how much an axe cost I’d ask my father. If I want to know how to kill goblins and orcs with it, that’s your job. You seem very… deft with your hands.’
‘Aye, it’s a natural talent.’ Nakka spun his axe a couple of times and made a few pretend swings. ‘The Troggklad blood comes from Grimnir himself, didn’t you know?’
‘I’m sure it did. Will you? Will you help one of less blessed heritage?’
‘I don’t see why not, as long as your pa has no objections.’
‘What’s it got to do with him?’ Haldora’s outburst drew stares from some of the other dwarfs and she dropped her voice. ‘It’s not his business.’
‘It was hard enough convincing him to let you come on this expedition, and only then because he didn’t think there was going to be any trouble at all. If he thinks you’re going to start wanting to become a warrior through-and-through, more than just a bit of self-defence, he might not be too happy.’
‘All right. I’ll talk to him. If he says yes, will you do it? Will you teach me how to fight?’
‘I’ll do better than that, my fine maiden,’ Nakka said, pulling Haldora onto her feet. It hurt her shoulder but the pain was dulled by the happiness flowing from Haldora’s heart as Nakka drew her closer. ‘I’ll teach you how to win!’
And that was when they shared their first kiss.
Chapter Nine
‘Our ancestors drove the goblins north and west, taking the lower slopes for themselves. With timber from the low groves of trees they built the first stockades, but Grimbalki was a cannier thinker than his father and had two of the mingols taken down and the stones used to build a more secure fortress, where later the defences of Undak Grimgazan would be. Some of the mingols were later extended into Undak Khruthok and Undak Khazdok, but that was many years away yet.
With stone towers and stockade in place, more of the king’s people came up from the foothills and they started exploring the southern mountains. The fortress grew and the area that was later called the Lower Gate was established.
This small realm was called Ankor-Drakk.’
Wood thudded against wood and the clash was lost on the wind. Haldora swung the training axe back and let fly once more, smashing the heavy weapon into Nakka’s upraised shield. Sweat dripped from the end of her nose and moistened her blue woollen dress. The sun had been relentless since they had come out to the secluded glade to continue their practice.
‘I can’t believe your father said yes,’ said Nakka, stepping back and holding up a hand to indicate they should take a break. ‘I really didn’t think he’d agree.’
‘I suppose he figured I would go ahead without him,’ lied Haldora. In fact she had not even raised the issue with Gabbik. Nakka was right, it was a foregone conclusion that her father would not permit her to take part in any further weapons training, in case it encouraged her to have even more outlandish fancies.
‘And that’s why we have to train out here, away from everyone, right?’ Nakka sounded dubious and Haldora was reminded that despite his bluff demeanour he was not a dull blade.
‘Folk will pry,’ she said, trying to sound offhand. ‘You know they love to poke about in my business. Better for pa and the clan name if nobody gets wind of it. And the fresh air is good.’
‘Blumming hot though,’ said Nakka. He put down the shield and wiped sweat from his brow with the hem of his tunic. He was bare-armed, showing off the muscles earned at the seam-face, and his beard was neatly plaited into a single braid to keep it out of the way. ‘And we’ll have to do some tunnel work sooner or later. That’s where goblins will be fighting.’
‘And the orcs? What about them?’
‘There aren’t any orcs. We saw that ourselves. Not a greenskin within days of Ekrund. No, it’ll not be orcs that we have to worry about.’
‘You’re worried?’ Haldora took up her fighting stance once more, wooden axe in both hands, elbows up and shoulders back. ‘About goblins?’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Nakka, raising the shield again.
He advanced slowly until he was within range. Haldora swung the axe, remembering to move at the waist, using the leverage of her arms to smash the head into the presented target. The shield rocked in Nakka’s grasp but he remained as solid as a granite pillar. She caught the shield again with the backswing, almost hooking it from his grasp.
‘Use your feet,’ he said. ‘You’re fighting goblins, not hewing coal. Get on the balls of your feet.’
Haldora tried, but almost fell over as she leaned all of her weight into the next swing. She recovered and stepped back for another attempt. Suddenly the axe felt top-heavy and she was unbalanced, nearly toppling over as the head whistled past the shield.
‘On the balls of your feet, not on tiptoe!’ laughed Nakka. He dropped the shield and stepped forward, strong, calloused fingers closing around her hands where they gripped the axe haft.
Nakka stepped back, dragging her with him. As she stepped to follow he moved the axe to the left and she felt the weight transferring from one leg to the other. He swayed and she swayed with him, pivoting slightly as he brought the axe low and then high. He pushed and she retreated, stepping back, guided by his hands to bring the axe across, head level with the ground.
There was a beat and a rhythm to the movements that reminded Haldora of the dances in the ale halls. She grinned and moved with it, letting Nakka steer her hands, feeling the axe light in her grasp, almost a living thing.
‘Beautiful,’ she whispered as Nakka quickly stepped away, leaving her to continue on her own, circling around him as though courting at a dance, the axe cutting the air in front of her. Her tread felt as light as a feather on the soft grass.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he replied with a smile of his own.
Nakka picked up the shield and interposed himself in front of her. Now when Haldora swung the axe she felt her whole body moving with it, following through with a step, using the weight of the swing and backstep to turn the blow into another attack, thudding the false axe head against the bottom of the shield with an upward cut.
‘Good,’ said Nakka. ‘A few more years’ practice and you might make a fine warrior.’
‘Years?’ Haldora almost tripped over her own feet, feeling a stab of disappointment in her chest. Suddenly the axe felt heavy again, her feet as though they were encased in blocks of iron. Her next swing was a wild slash that glanced against the boss of the shield, almost jarring the weapon from her fingers, sending a tremor of pain up into her elbow.
‘You didn’t think you’d master everything in just a few sessions, did you?’
‘No,’ Haldora said with a pout. Maybe a dozen, she had thought. How difficult could axework be? ‘But you heard the decree of the king. He wants the outer defences manned for the time being. The Angboks are on the next rotation out to the south watchtowers.’
‘I know,’ said Nakka. ‘The Troggklads are with you too. What of it?’
‘What if I’m not ready by then?’
‘Ready for what?’
‘To fight, of course! What if the orcs attack when we’re on the watchtowers?’
‘There’ll be no attack, my precious diamond,’ said Nakka. ‘And certainly not against the towers. There aren’t any orcs out there, we would have seen them.’
‘So what happened to the rest of the refugees? They just got lost and disappeared? Barely a few dozen have arrived since the first wave. Thousands, they reckoned. Thousands. All gone.’
‘Confused and frightened folk, fleeing for their lives. They couldn’t be certain how many got out of Karak Varn. Maybe Barak Varr relented and took more in. Maybe they turned east towards Karak Eight Peaks. Who can say? Them wolf riders weren’t even strong enough to take on a scouting party. You reckon they could hunt down thousands of dwarfs?’
‘If they were tired and scattered, maybe,’ said Haldora. She sat down on a tree stump, letting the practice axe fall from her grasp. ‘I don’t want to think the worst. Poor Grammi Skraffi is near enough pulling his beard out, convinced the orcs are going to eat us all tomorrow. That’s just daft, but we should take precautions.’
‘And that’s what the king’s doing. Increased patrols. Manning the outer towers. What else should we do, Haldora? March to Karak Varn like Skraffi said?’ He laughed. ‘A fine pickle we would be in then. Skraffi is a fine dwarf, you know I know that, but he gets strange notions. Like this business with the mead. But he’s got all the stubbornness of his age and won’t back down. We could cross the wildlands and back and never see an orc and still he’d claim they was hiding somewhere, biding their time.’
‘You’re right,’ said Haldora. ‘I should stop paying too much heed to what he says.’
Nakka came over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. ‘If you really want to do something, tell your father you’re coming out to the towers with us. And ask him to speak with the other clan heads, maybe send a letter to the king.’
‘Thanks,’ said Haldora, smiling up at Nakka.
‘What for?’
‘Believing in me.’
‘Believing in you?’ Nakka laughed again, his beard thumping against his chest. ‘That’s like believing in tables or gold or the sky. Ain’t no believing, it’s just fact. There’s you, and you’re strong and I know whatever you put your mind to will get done.’
‘All the same…’ Haldora picked up the wooden axe and stood up. She gave it a few test swings. Her shoulders ached but it was like the time she had learnt to use a pick. She’d keep going until the muscles were strong enough. ‘Like a dance, right?’
They continued to practise until the sun was almost lost behind the mountains. Stealing a quick goodbye kiss, Haldora then parted ways with Nakka, heading back to her family’s halls while he returned to the chambers of the Troggklads, having gained his promise not to reveal their clandestine meetings. She hoped he would not be interrogated too closely.
Nobody seemed too bothered about her when she got back and she sat down to supper with the rest of the family without fielding any awkward questions. She didn’t want to lie to her family, but if they knew what was going on they would certainly put a stop to it. Fortunately, Skraffi was there – his appearances had become rare since the king’s council – and he was keen to expand on his new favourite topic of conversation.
‘I’ve been speaking with more of the Varnfolk thanes,’ he told them, brandishing a roasted goat leg like a royal sceptre. ‘They reckon they could probably stir up a few thousand axes and hammers from the other holds, with cousins, nephews and what not.’ He glowered at Gabbik. ‘Family ties still mean something in the old mountains, I’m told.’
‘Family means something here too, father,’ Gabbik said. He was always formal in his address, never speaking out of place in Skraffi’s presence, but Haldora could tell when Gabbik was exercising his best self-control. She had seen it when meetings of the Ekrund Miners’ Welfare and Social Society got out of hand – someone forgetting to ask for a second during a motion, for example – and she could see it now every time Skraffi opened his mouth.
‘The orcs have probably moved on by now,’ Skraffi continued, ignoring his son. ‘We would just have a look, see what was what and the like. And then when the High King’s ready, we come from the south and the army from Karaz-a-Karak comes from the north, catching them green dung eaters between us.’
‘There will be no army from the north, father,’ Gabbik said patiently. ‘King Erstukar is not going to petition the High King for a joint attack on Karak Varn. Please, stop going on about it. If you really want to help the Varnfolk, don’t keep feeding them this madness and false hope.’
Skraffi opened his mouth and then closed it again. He huffed and crossed his arms but said nothing more.
‘I’m still worried about the Varnfolk that haven’t made it to the Dragonbacks,’ Haldora said. ‘They have to be out there somewhere.’
‘What could we do about it?’ Gabbik said, his exasperation growing. ‘Grow wings and soar over the wildlands looking for them?’
Haldora fell silent, stung by her father’s words. She fidgeted with the edge of the table, picking at a splinter with her thumbnail. He looked at her for some time and then pushed away his plate, expression softening.
‘All right,’ Gabbik said. ‘What would you really have me do?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ mumbled Haldora. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing we can do.’
‘What would you have me do?’ he asked again, slowly and quietly. ‘Really.’
‘I just want you to talk to the other clan heads,’ Haldora said. ‘I don’t know what we can do, but maybe they can think of something.’
‘We’ve already put up as many as we can,’ said Friedra. She moved around the table collecting platters and cups. ‘Any more and we’ll have Varnfolk in the pantry and coming out of the scullery. That won’t do at all.’
‘But there should be more. You heard it too. I just don’t know where all the other survivors have ended up.’
‘Maybe they went back to retake their hold?’ suggested Skraffi. ‘They should do. It’s a sorry state of affairs when an entire hold just ups and leaves without so much as a fight or two to get back what’s theirs.’
‘They stayed and defended their homes, as they should have done,’ said Gabbik. ‘That’s where you’d see me, standing at the door, hammer in hand and no stepping back.’
Skraffi darted his son a dubious look. ‘When did you become such a hardened fighter?’
‘I saw my share of war,’ said Gabbik. ‘And I’ve killed my share of goblins too.’
‘Will you say something? To the other thanes?’ Haldora asked. ‘Please?’
Gabbik considered it, slowly rubbing a knuckle across the side of his nose several times.
‘I’ll see what the others think of it,’ he said. ‘No promises they’ll listen to me.’ There was a snort from Skraffi, indicating what he thought were the chances of Gabbik being given full attention.
‘They’ll have to listen to you, pa,’ said Haldora. ‘Respectable, wise, considered. You’ve got a reputation. They’ll definitely listen to you.’
They weren’t listening.
Gabbik suppressed a sigh and raised his voice above the background clamour of the alehouse – taken over that night for the thanes’ council. He had told Haldora he would voice her concerns and that was what he was going to do, even if nobody else was interested. There were times he was sure he had let down his daughter but this would not be one of them.
Skraffi was scrutinising everything he said from across the other side of the hall, ensconced at a table with two bottles of mead and a tin cup, surrounded by other greybeards who glared suspiciously as Gabbik rose to his feet and banged his tankard on the table.
‘Could I have your attention for a moment, please, gentledwarfs?’ Gabbik announced.
The assemblage quietened down a little bit. They were from all over the surrounding area, co-members of the clan council, some with lineages hailing back to Karak Eight Peaks, others with less rarefied heritage. All of them seemed to be united in their desire to continue drinking without interruption.
