At this point he didn't even try to solve the problem of meeting Tale Splintersteel. He could barely get two words out of the barmaid who worked here-he could imagine the reaction he'd get if he asked to meet the most important Zhakar in Sanction. His reflections were interrupted by a startling clap on his shoulder. Ariakas reached instinctively for his sword, then held his hand at the sound of a familiar voice.
"So, warrior-our schemes bring us together again in Sanction!" Ferros Windchisel's hearty words sent a sur shy;prising jolt of pleasure through Ariakas.
"Your escape was successful I see. Congratulations!" The man pumped the dwarf's hand as the Hylar slumped onto the seat adjacent to Ariakas. He felt a warm flush of friendship; the presence of Ferros brought back the memories of his stay in the tower.
"And you, too-though I began to wonder. I kept my eyes on that drawbridge for a couple of days and didn't see any sign of you coming out."
"No-as it was, storms closed in before we could leave. I was trapped there for the winter," Ariakas said softly. He couldn't bring himself to tell Ferros that it had all been a test, and that his reward had been the 'pris shy;oner' in the top level of the tower. "I didn't get to Sanc shy;tion until a few days ago."
"You did what?" sputtered Ferros Windchisel. "What about the ogres?"
"You did a great job of leading them away," Ariakas said with a grin. "The snow was so deep after the first storm that they couldn't get close to the mountain."
"By the way, you're looking good," Ferros noted. "Your face isn't in two pieces anymore."
Ariakas scowled, annoyed by the reminder of his encounter with the two kender. "It healed over the win shy;ter," he explained tersely.
Ferros squinted at the human and then shook his head with a rueful grin. "Pretty gutsy, that-to live in an ogre den."
Ariakas squirmed uneasily, uncomfortable with the knowledge that, like himself, Ferros Windchisel had been a pawn in the Dark Queen's test.
"I wish I'd had that luxury," the dwarf continued, grumbling good-naturedly. He shook his head. "One night I had to kick a bear out of a cave just to get a place to sleep. And those ogres weren't any too pleased with me, either. Had to bop a couple of 'em when they kept following me too close."
"Did you winter in the mountains?"
"Nope-made it into the lower valleys before the heaviest snows hit, then I was able to clomp down into Sanction by mid-Cold-Rust. You'd be surprised how warm it stays around here, what with these mountains smoking and belching all the time."
"You've been here all that time?" inquired Ariakas, surprised. "I thought you had some pressing business to attend to."
"I do!" Ferros agreed, subconsciously lowering his voice and looking furtively around. All the nearby dwarves argued and bickered with their comrades, pay shy;ing the two companions no attention whatsoever.
"You knew about my quest?"
"Only that you had a reason for exploring the Khal-kists," said Ariakas. "You never told me about it."
"I came here looking for dwarves," Ferros Windchisel explained without preamble. "All the way from Thorbar-din-on the trail four years before I got captured by ogres."
"Thorbardin?" Ariakas had heard of the place. The name conjured pictures of dwarven legions gathered under the banner of the mountain dwarf king. When considered from his own eastern homeland, Thorbardin was impossibly distant, so far removed that it might have been located on another world.
"Aye. What I wouldn't give for a smooth ferry-ride across the Urkhan Sea," Ferros mused. "Thorbardin's a wonder, you know-I'm amazed that I ever got around to leaving."
"Why did you leave?" Ariakas asked. "If you were looking for dwarves, I'd have thought you were in the right place before you started."
Ferros chuckled. "That I was. But, see, I know about the dwarves in Thorbardin-we all do. I'm looking for signs of dwarves that we've lost touch with. Several of my Hylar clansmen have set out on this quest in the last decades. We look for kingdoms around the whole of the continent that, since the Cataclysm, have been closed off from one another."
"And you believe that one of those kingdoms is in the Khalkists?"
"I did believe-now I know!" hissed the Hylar, his voice confirming the triumph of his discovery.
"You've heard, then, of Zhakar?" asked Ariakas.
Ferros looked somewhat deflated. "So, someone told you already, huh? Yup, that's the place."
"Good luck," the warrior noted wryly. "I've heard they kill anyone who even gets close to their borders. No one even knows where it lies!"
"Except for the Zhakar themselves," said Ferros, ges shy;turing to the dwarves crowded around them.
"That's why you're here? To get directions?"
"An invitation would be even better. I've learned they have a head honcho here in Sanction. I figure if I could talk to him, tell him why I'm looking for Zhakar … well, that'll be someplace to start, at least."
"You're looking for Tale Splintersteel, I take it?" Aria-kas asked.
Ferros managed to look crestfallen and indignant at the same time. "Do you know everything about these guys?" he groused. "Here you get to town yesterday and already you've learned what I've scraped together in the last three months!"
"Cheer up," Ariakas said. "I'm sure there's something you know that I don't."
"I don't even know what brings you into this tea-dive," Ferros complained.
"As a matter of fact, I'm looking to meet Tale Splinter-steel myself."
"So you know him, then?"
"I don't even know what he looks like," the warrior admitted.
"There I've got you!" crowed Ferros. "I not only know what he looks like, I know where he's sitting!"
Ariakas nodded, impressed. "Care to share that infor shy;mation?"
Ferros made a pretense of considering his request, then grinned good-naturedly. He nodded toward the darkest corner of the bar, where Ariakas discerned noth shy;ing more than indistinct shadows gathered around an unusually long table.
"Splintersteel's the one at the head of the table," Ferros explained. "The only dwarf I've seen in here who doesn't get a lot of lip."
"Well, let's go talk to him," suggested Ariakas, rising to his feet. At first he wondered if Ferros were about to object, but then the Hylar shrugged and stood beside him. The human warrior pushed his way through the Zhakar huddled at the various tables, working toward that darkened alcove.
Gradually the bar fell silent around them. The dwar-ven customers suspiciously watched the pair.
"Watch my back," the warrior hissed as quietly as he could, and he felt Ferros clap him on the shoulder to sig shy;nify that he'd heard.
By the time they reached the long table, the Fungus Mug had fallen silent as a still winter night. This close, he could see perhaps a dozen dwarves seated along the sides of the table, and each of them seemed to have his hands out of sight. The warrior readily imagined that each held a weapon-they could easily leap to their leader's defense if Ariakas should make any suspicious move.
Stiffly, he bowed to the dwarf, who was still half-buried in shadows, the man's eyes shifting back and forth between the bodyguards to either side of the table. "Tale Splintersteel?" he inquired. "I request the honor of an interview . .. regarding a business matter that may yield considerable profit."