Gandogar scanned the faces of the delegates. He could see that they were torn. "First listen to what I have to say. Documents have come into my possession, ancient documents uncovered by Bislipur and handed to me. Hear what they speak of; then decide for yourselves what should be done." He took a deep breath, unfurled a roll of parchment, and read in a solemn voice:
And the elves were filled with envy.
Desirous of the dwarven treasure, they fell upon the fifthling kingdom and ambushed Giselbert's folk.
Fierce fighting broke out in the underground halls and at the Stone Gateway.
Some of the enemy were trapped by Giselbert in a gloomy labyrinth, never to be seen again.
But the treacherous elves used their magic to poison the children of the Smith. One by one the fifthlings succumbed.
The elves seized their chance and slaughtered the ailing dwarves. Only a handful of Giselbert's folk escaped the massacre.
Silence descended on the great hall. Gandogar's words echoed in the minds of his listeners, his commanding voice breathing new life into the ancient script.
Drawn by the smell of death and bloodshed, orcs and trolls marched on the Stone Gateway and gathered at the border.
The cowardly elves fled in terror, abandoning Girdlegard to its fate. But before they fled, they used their cunning to open the portal. Giselbert and his remaining warriors defended the pass with the staunchness of true dwarves, but their depleted army could do nothing against the hordes.
It was then that evil entered Girdlegard.
He paused to measure the force of his speech. With a little more persuasion, he would have them on his side. Only Gundrabur's one-armed counselor was shaking his head.
"I do not trust these lines, King Gandogar. Why were they not discovered before now? It seems strange that a document incriminating the elves should emerge at this time. It suits your purpose rather well."
"The document was hidden, who knows for what purpose-perhaps by a doubting dwarf like yourself who lacked the conviction to go to war," came Gandogar's scornful reply. He raised his ax and buried the blade in the map, cleaving Вlandur. "You heard what the document says. They killed our kin and betrayed us! They must pay for their murderous deeds."
"And then what?" Balendilнn asked harshly. "Tell me, King Gandogar, who would benefit from the destruction of the elves? Their deaths won't further our interests, nor those of mankind! No, destroying Вlandur will profit the Perished Land alone. We may as well join forces with the дlfar and help them to victory. Is that what you want?" The counselor fixed his eyes on Gandogar, who suddenly felt dangerously exposed. "Our real enemies aren't the elves, Your Majesty. Vraccas didn't give us the authority to fight the peoples of Girdlegard. By my beard, none of us can stand the elves; it's in our nature not to like them. There have been skirmishes, even deaths, I know." He placed a hand on his left shoulder. "I lost a limb in a fight with four orcs, but I'd sooner sever my one good arm than raise it in a war against the elves. Our races have their differences, but Vraccas bade us protect the elves and we have never neglected our task. Do you propose to break his commandment?"
Gandogar fixed the one-armed counselor with a furious glare. Balendilнn had sabotaged his plans for vengeance and nothing he could say would mend the damage. Through the silence he heard Bislipur grinding his teeth.
"The дlfar are no friends of mine," he said at last. "No, this is about seizing our opportunity. Once the elves are defeated, I will lead our armies to victory against the Perished Land. Tion's minions have plagued Girdlegard for too long. The dwarves shall triumph where humans have failed!"
"You surprise me, King Gandogar," said Balendilнn, an expression of open bewilderment spreading over his age- and experience-lined face. "Surely you don't mean to defy the commands of our god? It seems to me your reason has been subdued by hatred." He paused and eyed Bislipur suspiciously. "Unless false counsel is to blame."
The delegates shuffled and muttered until a secondling from the clan of the Bear Hands rose to his feet.
"In my opinion, the matter is worthy of debate," he said firmly. "What if the document speaks the truth? Once a traitor always a traitor! The elves might leave their crumbling kingdom and found a new settlement by seizing human land."
"What if they betray another of our folks?" The speaker, a chieftain of the same clan, leaped up, burning with zeal. "The pointy-ears will stoop to any level. I can't say whether or not they murdered the fifthlings, but they should be punished all the same!" He left his place and stood alongside Gandogar in a public show of support. "You may be a fourthling, but I stand by your cause."
Shouts of approval sounded from the benches. The dwarves' low voices rumbled through the chamber until all that could be heard was a single word: war. Balendilнn's calls for order were drowned out by the noise.
Gandogar sat back and exchanged satisfied looks with his adviser. Girdlegard will soon be free of elves.
At that moment an almighty bang rocked the hall. "Silence!" a voice thundered sternly through the din.
The delegates turned in astonishment.
Crown on his snowy head, Gundrabur stood perfectly erect before them, the ceremonial hammer in one hand. He had swung it against the throne so furiously that the marble revealed deep cracks.
His eyes showed no sign of age, only recrimination, as he looked down at the chieftains and elders. No dwarf was more majestic, more imposing than he. His former weakness and frailty had vanished, driven out by rage.
His white beard rippled as he raised his head. "Shortsighted fools! You should be worrying about Girdlegard, not settling old scores. Any race that pits itself against the Perished Land is our ally! The longer the elves can repel the powers of darkness, the better." His gaze fell on Gandogar. "You are young and impetuous, king of the fourthlings. Two of your kin were slain by elves and for that I am prepared to excuse your misguided call to arms. The rest of you should know better. Instead of indulging him in this lunacy, you should be voices of reason."
Gundrabur scanned the assembly. "The time has come to bury our grievances. An alliance is what we need, what I desire! The elves of Вlandur, the seven human sovereigns, the six magi, and the dwarven folks must stand united to repel the Perished Land. I…"
Just then the hammer fell from his grasp and crashed to the floor, chipping the flagstones. The high king swayed and sank backward into his throne, his breath coming in short gasps.
Balendilнn instructed the delegates to retire to their chambers and await his summons. "We shall resume our meeting when the high king has recovered."
The representatives from the various clans filed out silently, Gundrabur's words still echoing in their minds.
Bislipur cast a scornful look at the wheezing figure on the throne. "He won't last much longer," he muttered to Gandogar as they made their way out. "When his voice dries up entirely, we'll have the chieftains on our side. They were ready to join us before the high king interrupted."
Gundrabur's chosen successor made no reply. Enchanted Realm of Ionandar, Girdlegard, Spring, 6234th Solar Cycle Jolosin sped through the underground vaults, followed by the panting Tungdil on his considerably shorter legs. They hurried down a gallery past oak-paneled doors leading to classrooms where young apprentices were taking lessons from more senior famuli. Only four students were taught by Lot-Ionan himself, one of whom would be chosen to inherit his academy, his underground vaults, and his realm.
On reaching the laboratory Jolosin stopped abruptly and flung open the door. Small clouds of white smoke wafted toward them, creating an artificial fog. "Get a move on," he barked at Tungdil, who was racing to catch up.
Breathing heavily, the dwarf stepped into the chamber and was instantly wreathed in mist. "Watch your manners, Jolosin, or you'll be fixing the problem yourself."