"They know nought of war," said Volki.
Riatha looked at Volki. "But they do, DelfLord. -Know of war, that is."
"They do?" said Tipperton, his eyes widening.
Riatha smiled. "Indeed, for at times they do battle with sharks and other predators, especially when protecting their young. Ask Aravan; he knows."
Volki growled. "But they do not wield weapons and great engines of siege and other such. It is not as if sharks come knocking at their door, as did the Foul Folk knock at ours."
Rynna frowned. "How so, DelfLord?"
"With a great ram, they came, and battered for entry to Kraggen-cor."
Gildor raised an eyebrow. "Great ram?"
"Aye. Ogru-driven and under a shield of brass and iron cladding, on wheels it came, its iron head shaped like a mighty fist, mounted on the end of a massive wooden beam," replied Volki, clenching his left hand and thrusting it forward to demonstrate.
"Ai," groaned Gildor. "An evil thing is that ram. Whelm they call it, though I name it Vile."
"You know of it?" asked Tipperton.
Gildor nodded, as did Riatha, and Gildor said, "Many a gate has it sundered and many a city has fallen before its hard knock. Dark was the day long past when it tore through the gates of Duellin."
"It was on Atala, neh?" asked Tip.
Riatha nodded.
Tip glanced at Gildor, then back to Riatha. "Were you there when the ram tore through the gates?"
Riatha shook her head. "Nay. Though Rein, my mother, was"-Riatha touched the hilt of her jade-handled sword- "and she bore Dunamfs, the blade forged in Duellin by Dwynfor, the greatest swordsmith of all."
Volki grunted and nodded. "Even we Chakka hold Dwynfor to be the master of all bladesmiths."
"But what of Whelm and the gate?" asked Nix.
"And who attacked Duellin and why?" added Farly.
Riatha's silver-grey eyes darkened. " 'Twas Modru, his lackeys that is."
"I knew it," gritted Volki.
"Argh," growled Dinly. "Modru again. Someday someone will kill Modru, and that will be that."
Gildor shook his head. "Be not so certain, my friend, for monsters are always aborning… or are being fashioned by monsters of their own."
"Monsters or not," said Farly, looking at Riatha, "again I ask: why would Modru attack Duellin? Just out of pure spite?"
Riatha made a small negating gesture. "Although spite may have been part of it, it is not all. This is what my mother has said:
"Nigh the beginning of the First Era, Modru came unto Duellin to purchase blades from Dwynfor-axes, swords, lances, pikes, and the like-but Dwynfor would not craft him any, for even then Modru was among the shunned. And so Modru turned to other smiths, Gilian not the least, yet she nor any within the city would aid the Black Mage.
"Enraged and swearing vengeance, Modru sailed away. And some centuries later, there came the invasion of the isle by Spaunen and Rovers and men from far-off Jung. And among the engines they brought with them was Whelm.
"Boom! it knocked for entry, Boom! and Boom! and Boom! Driven by Trolls, at last the heavy gates of Duellin fell before the sinister fist.
"And the Rupt and Rovers and Jungarians poured through the breech.
"Hard-fought was the battle, every street, every building, every stride yielded in nought but furious struggle. Even so, the Spaunen and Kistanians and men of Jung slowly gained sway, for they far outnumbered the defenders of Duellin.
"And they hammered their way toward the armories of Dwynfor and Gilian and other bladesmiths of renown.
"Three-quarters of the city was lost ere the Lian of Darda Immer arrived, and together with the defenders of Duellin they hurled the invaders back into the sea.
"And they sailed away defeated and took the mighty fist with them.
"So says Rein, Lian Guardian of that time; so says Rein my mother."
Silence fell upon the gathering, broken only by the creak of rope and timber and the shssh of water along the hull. Finally Beau said, "Tell me, DelfLord Volki, did Whelm hammer down the doors of Drimmen-deeve?"
Volki shook his head. "Nay. Though battered to their limit, the great gates of daun yet stand."
"Ai," declared Gildor, "mighty are the workings of the Drimma to withstand such an evil token of power."
"Chakka cor," said Volki.
Rynna looked at Tipperton, her eyebrows raised. "Dwar-ven might," translated the buccan.
"Where is Whelm now?" asked Linnet. "Destroyed, I hope."
Volki shrugged. "I know not where lies Whelm, for the Squam took it away when they were routed. Yet when we caught up with them, Whelm was not at hand. I think it lies abandoned and lost among the crags of the Grimwalls."
Again they fell to silence, wind snapping the canvas above. But at last Gildor touched the hilts of his sword and long-knife and said, "Bale and Bane were forged in Duellin."
Riatha drew her jade-handled sword from its tooled green scabbard and said, "As was Dunamis." The shadowy blade glittered as if filled with stars.
Volki's eyes widened and he gasped, "Dark silveron! Your sword is made of dark silveron, Lady Riatha."
Beau looked at Tip in puzzlement and Tipperton shrugged, and Gildor, seeing the exchange, said, "Shadow starsilver is the rarest of all metals, my friends."
Volki nodded. "There are veins of starsilver in Kraggen-cor, and this is what Modru was after when he set siege on my realm."
"He wanted starsilver to forge his own blades?" asked Nix.
Volki turned up a hand. "After hearing the tale of his attempt at Duellin, it seems most likely, for no other metal yields such mighty weapons as does silveron, and silveron lies deep within my domain." Volki glanced with reverence at Riatha's blade, and added, "But only now and again do we find a nugget of the dark, and never any vein. Keep care of that weapon, my lady, for it is precious beyond all compare."
Riatha nodded and sheathed the blade.
Gildor sighed. "Alas, no more will Atalarian blades be forged in Duellin, for the isle is now gone into the sea."
After a moment Rynna asked, "Lady Riatha, was Talar the only one to escape?"
Riatha shook her head. "There were others, though precious few. Talar said he came across one in Gothan: Othran was his name, a Seer, a Mage. He was terribly damaged, yet refused aid, for he said he had a quest to fulfill and he was borne away east toward Rian. What was the quest, Othran did not say, and Talar did not know."
"My goodness," said Alver, "a quest, you say. I wonder how important it could have been to refuse aid and all."
Ere any could answer or speculate, orders were called out and sailors ran forth on the deck, unbelaying ropes and haling on them and swinging the yardarms around, all to a purpose-the changing of course-for they had finally rounded the Pellarion Cape and now swung north for the Ironwater.
The evening skies were dark with scudding clouds when the ships finally dropped anchor at the abandoned port of Adeo, its long stone pier crumbling in ruin, though it was sturdy enough for the task at hand. The Warrows stood adeck and watched as the first two great vessels were maneuvered to the dock, while a frigid wind blew steadily out of the north and east.
Standing nearby, Volki growled, "It is an ill wind which blows from Garia."
Beau took a deep breath. "You don't suppose it's Modru now, do you, raising a winter storm? They say he's master of the cold, you know."
Volki turned up his hands but otherwise did not reply.
And the Warrows all, they looked at the sky and shivered with a chill not born of the wind and drew their cloaks tightly 'round.
And still the raw wind blew, driving darkling clouds above.
It was Year's End Day, the last day of December, the last day of the two thousand one hundred ninety-eighth year of the Second Era of Mithgar. On the morrow their own ship would be haled to the dock, and their steeds and goods unladed… on the morrow, Year's Start Day, the first of January, two thousand one hundred ninety-nine, the very first day of the fifth deadly year of a great and terrible war.