Lord Hammer emptied the bag into his hand.
Foud flinched, but did not protest. Aboud leaned past Sigurd and me, offering his own salt should it be needed.
Lord Hammer said no more. The guardians flinched, but did not withdraw.
Hammer flung the salt with quick little jerks of his hand, a few grains this way, a few that.
Liverish, mottled cankers appeared on the slimy skin of the guardians. Their mouths yawned in silent screams.
They melted. Like slugs in a garden, salted.
Like slugs, they had no bones.
It took minutes. We watched in true fascination, unable to look away, while the four puddled, pooled, became lost in one lake of twitching slime.
Foud and Aboud shared out the remaining salt.
Lord Hammer went forward, avoiding the remains of the guardians. We followed.
I looked down once.
Eyes stared back from the lake. Knowledgeable, hating eyes. I shuddered.
They were the final barrier. We went into the Place of the Dragon, the glowing hall that once had been a cavern of the city Kammengarn.
I began to think that, despite the barriers, it was too easy.
I don't know why. It couldn't have been accomplished without Lord Hammer. Mortal men would never have reached Kammengarn.
"Gods preserve us," I muttered.
The Kammengarn Dragon was the hugest living thing I've ever seen. I had seen Shinsan's dragons during the wars. I had seen whales beached on the coast...
The dragons I had seen were like chicks compared to roosters. The flesh of a whale might have made up Silcroscuar's tail. His head alone massed as much as an elephant.
"Reckon he'd miss a cup of blood?" Sigurd whispered.
The northmen and their gallows humor. A strange race.
The dragon kept on snoring.
We had come in winter, according to Fetch, because that was the best time of year. I suppose she meant that dragons were more sluggish then, or even hibernated.
But at that depth the chill of winter meant nothing. The place was as hot as an August noon in the desert.
We flanked Lord Hammer, Sigurd and I to his right, the Harish to his left. Hammer started toward the dragon.
The monster opened an eye. Its snakelike tongue speared toward Lord Hammer.
I interposed my shield, chopped with my sword. The tongue caroomed away. My blade cut nothing but air.
A mighty laugh surrounded us. It came from no detectable source.
"You made it, fugitive. Ah. Yes. I know you, Lord Hammer. I know who you are. I know what you are. I know more
than you know. All tidings come to me here. There are no secrets from me. Even the future is mine to behold. And yours is a cosmic jest."
Lord Hammer reacted only by beginning a series of gestures, the first of which was the arm cross he had used at the barrows in the forest.
The dragon chuckled. "You'll have your way. And be the poorer for it." It yawned.
My jaw sagged. The teeth in that cavernous mouth! Like the waving scimitars of a horde of desert horsemen...
Laughter assailed the air. "1 have been intimate with the future, refugee. I know the vanity of the course you have chosen. Your hope is futile. 1 know the joke the Fates have prepared. But come. Take what you want. I'll not thwart you, nor deny the Fates their amusement."
The dragon closed his eye. He shifted his bulk slightly, as if into a more comfortable position.
Lord Hammer advanced.
We stayed with him.
And again I thought it was too easy. The monster wasn't making even a token attempt to stop us.
That matter about the Fates and a cosmic joke. It reminded me of all those tales in which men achieved their goals only to discover that the price of success was more dear than that of failure.
Lord Hammer clambered up the mound of gold and jewels, boldly seizing a gargantuan canine to maintain his balance.
My stomach flipped.
The dragon snored on.
Sigurd started grabbing things small enough to carry away. I selected a few souvenirs myself. Then I saw the contempt in Foud's eyes.
He seemed to be thinking that there were issues at stake far greater than greed.
It was an unguarded thought, breaking through onto his face. It put me on guard.
"Sigurd," I hissed. "Be ready. It's not over."
"I know," he whispered. "Just grabbing while I can."
Lord Hammer beckoned. I scrambled across the treacherous pile. "Cut here." He tapped the dragon's lip where scaly armor gave way to the soft flesh of the mouth. "Gently."
Terror froze me. He wanted me to cut that monster? When it might wake up? What chance would we have?...
"Cut!"
Lord Hammer's command made the cavern walls shudder. I could not deny it. 1 drew the tip of my blade across dragon flesh.
Blood welled up, dribbled down the monster's jaw.
It was as red as any man's. I saw nothing remarkable about it, save that men had died for it. Slowly, drop by drop, it filled the ebony container Lord Hammer held.
We waited tensely, anticipating an explosion from the monster. Dragons had foul and cunning reputations, and that of the Kammengarn Dragon outstripped them all.
I caught a smile toying with Aboud's lips. It was gone in an instant, but it left me more disturbed, more uncertain than ever.
I searched the cavern, wondering if more guardians might not be creeping our way. I saw nothing.
Sigurd bent to secure one more prize jewel...
And Lord Hammer screwed a top onto his container, satisfied.
Foud and Aboud surged toward him. Silver Harish kill-daggers whined through the air.
I managed to skewer Aboud and kick Foud in one wild movement. Then my impetus carried me down the mountain of treasure to the cavern floor. Golden baubles gnawed at my flesh.
Sigurd roared as he hurled himself at Foud, who was after Lord Hammer again. I regained my feet and charged up the pile.
A gargantuan laughter filled the caverns of Kammengarn.
Foud struck Lord Hammer's left arm, and killed Sigurd, before he perished, strangling in the grip of Lord Hammer's right hand.
Aboud, though dying, regained his feet. Again he tried to plant his kill-dagger in Lord Hammer's back.
I reached him in time. We tumbled back down the pile.
Lord Hammer flung Foud after us.
Aboud sat up. He had lost his dagger. I saw it lying about five feet behind him. Tears filled his eyes as he awaited the doom descending upon him.
"Why?" I asked.
"For the Master. For the blood of the dragon that would have made him immortal, that would have given him time to carry the truth. And for what was done to him during the wars."
"I don't understand, Aboud."
"You wouldn't. You haven't recognized him as your enemy."
Lord Hammer loomed over us. His left arm hung slackly. The kill-dagger had had that much success.
Lord Hammer reached with his right, seizing Aboud's throat.
The Harish fought back. Vainly.
I recovered his dagger during the struggle. Quietly, carefully, I concealed it inside my shirt. Why I don't know, except that the genuine article was more valuable than anything in the dragon's hoard.
"Come," Lord Hammer told me. Almost conversationally, he added, "The dragon will be pleased. He's hungry. These three will repay him for his blood." He strode to the gap where the guardians had perished. Their hating eyes watched us pass.