Magician. Raymond E. Feist

out the dottle of his pipe, he said, ‘The dwarven folk are not counted the finest warriors in the West for naught, but we lack the numbers to dispose of our more troublesome neighbors. To dislodge such a host as have been passing would require a great force of men, well armed and provisioned.’

      Kulgan said, ‘I would give anything to know how they reached these mountains.’

      ‘I would rather know how many there are,’ said the Duke.

      Dolgan refilled his pipe and, after it was lit, stared thoughtfully into the fire. Weylin and Udell nodded at each other, and Weylin said, ‘Lord Borric, there may be as many as five thousand.’

      Before the startled Duke could respond, Dolgan came out of his reverie. Swearing an oath, he said, ‘Closer to ten thousand!’ He turned to look at the Duke, whose expression showed he clearly didn’t understand what was being said. Dolgan added, ‘We’ve given every reason for this migration save invasion. Plague, internal warfare between bands, pests in their crops causing famine, but an invading army of aliens was not one of them.

      ‘From the number of towns empty, we guess a few thousand goblins and moredhel have descended into the Green Heart. Some of those villages are a clutch of huts my two boys could overcome unaided. But others are walled hill forts, with a hundred, two hundred warriors to man the palisade. They’ve swept away a dozen such in little over a month. How many men do you judge you’d need to accomplish such a deed, Lord Borric?’

      For the first time in his memory, Pug saw fear clearly etched upon the Duke’s face. Borric leaned forward, his arm resting across his knee, as he said, ‘I’ve fifteen hundred men in Crydee, counting those in the frontier garrisons along the boundary. I can call another eight hundred or a thousand each from the garrisons at Carse and Tulan, though to do so would strip them fully. The levies from the villages and towns number at best a thousand, and most would be old veterans from the siege at Carse or young boys without skills.’

      Arutha looked as grim as his father as he said, ‘Forty-five hundred at the outside, a full third unproved, against an army of ten thousand.’

      Udell looked at his father, then at Lord Borric. ‘My father makes no boast of our skills, nor of the moredhel’s. Your Grace. Whether there be five thousand or ten thousand, they’ll be hard, experienced fighters to drive out the enemies of our blood so quickly.’

      ‘Then I’m thinking,’ said Dolgan, ‘you’d best send word to your older son and your vassal barons, telling them to stay safely behind the walls of your castles, and hie yourself to Krondor. It will take all the Armies of the West to withstand these newcomers this spring.’

      Tomas suddenly said, ‘Is it really that bad?’ then looked embarrassed for interrupting the council. ‘I’m sorry, my lord.’

      Borric waved away the apology. ‘It may be we are weaving many threads of fear together into a larger tapestry than exists, but a good soldier prepares for the worst, Tomas. Dolgan is right. I must enlist the Prince’s aid.’ He looked at Dolgan. ‘But to call the Armies of the West to arms, I must reach Krondor.’

      Dolgan said, ‘The South Pass is closed, and your human ships’ masters have too much sense to brave the Straits of Darkness in winter. But there is another way, though it is a difficult path. There are mines throughout these mountains, ancient tunnels under the Grey Towers. Many were carved by my people as we dug for iron and gold. Some are natural, fashioned when the mountains were born. And still others were here when my people first came to these mountains, dug by only the gods know whom. There is one mine that passes completely under the mountains, coming out on the other side of the range, only a day’s march from the road to Bordon. It will take two days to pass through, and there may be dangers.’

      The dwarven brothers looked at their father, and Weylin said, ‘Father, the Mac Mordain Cadal?’

      Dolgan nodded his head. ‘Aye, the abandoned mine of my grandfather, and his father before him.’ He said to the Duke, ‘We have dug many miles of tunnels under the mountain, and some connect with the ancient passages I have spoken of. There are dark and queer tales about Mac Mordain Cadal, for it is connected with these old passages. Not a few dwarves have ventured deep into the old mines, seeking legendary riches, and most have returned. But a few have vanished. Once upon a path, a dwarf can never lose his way back, so they were not lost in their searching. Something must have befallen them. I tell you this so there will be no misunderstandings, but if we keep to the passages dug by my ancestors, we should have small risk.’

      ‘“We,” friend dwarf?’ said the Duke.

      Dolgan grinned. ‘Should I simply place your feet upon the path, you’d be hopelessly lost within an hour. No, I’d care not for traveling to Rillanon to explain to your King how I’d managed to lose one of his better Dukes. I will guide you willingly, Lord Borric, for a small price.’ He winked at Pug and Tomas as he spoke the last. ‘Say, a pouch of tabac and a fine dinner at Crydee.’

      The Duke’s mood lightened a little. With a smile he said, ‘Done, and our thanks, Dolgan.’

      The dwarf turned to his sons. ‘Udell, you take half the company and one of the mules, and the Duke’s men too ill or wounded to continue. Make for the castle at Crydee. There’s an ink horn and quill, wrapped in parchment, somewhere in our baggage; find it for his lordship, so he may instruct his men. Weylin, take the others of our kin back to Caldara, then send word to the other villages before the winter blizzards strike. Come spring, the dwarves of the Grey Towers go to war.’

      Dolgan looked at Borric. ‘No one has ever conquered our highland villages, not in the longest memory of the dwarven folk. But it would prove an irritation for someone to try. The dwarves will stand with the Kingdom, Your Lordship. You have long been a friend to us, trading fairly and giving aid when asked. And we have never run from battle when we were called.’

      Arutha said, ‘And what of Stone Mountain?’

      Dolgan laughed. ‘I thank His Highness for the jog to my memory. Old Harthorn and his clans would be sorely troubled should a good fight come and they were not invited. I’ll send runners to Stone Mountain as well.’

      Pug and Tomas watched while the Duke wrote messages to Lyam and Fannon, then full stomachs and fatigue began to lull them, despite their long sleep. The dwarves gave them the loan of heavy cloaks, which they wrapped about pine boughs to make comfortable mattresses. Occasionally Pug would turn in the night, coming out of his deep sleep, and hear voices speaking low. More than once he heard the name Mac Mordain Cadal.

      Dolgan led the Duke’s party along the rocky foothills of the Grey Towers. They had left at first light, the dwarven chieftain’s sons departing for their own destinations with their men. Dolgan walked before the Duke and his son, followed by the puffing Kulgan and the boys. Five soldiers of Crydee, those still able to continue, under the supervision of Sergeant Gardan followed behind, leading two mules. Walking behind the struggling magician, Pug said, ‘Kulgan, ask for a rest. You’re all done in.’

      The magician said, ‘No, boy, I’ll be all right. Once into the mines, the pace will slow, and we should be there soon.’

      Tomas regarded the stocky figure of Dolgan, marching along at the head of the party, short legs striding along, setting a rugged pace. ‘Doesn’t he ever tire?’

      Kulgan shook his head. ‘The dwarven folk are renowned for their strong constitutions. At the Battle of Carse Keep, when the castle was nearly taken by the Dark Brotherhood, the dwarves of Stone Mountain and the Grey Towers were on the march to aid the besieged. A messenger carried the news of the castle’s imminent fall, and the dwarves ran for a day and a night and half a day again to fall on the Brotherhood from behind without any lessening of their fighting ability. The Brotherhood was broken, never again organizing under a single leader.’ He panted a bit. ‘There was no idle boasting in Dolgan’s appraisal of the aid forthcoming from the dwarves, for they are undoubtedly the finest fighters in the West. While they have few numbers compared to men, only the Hadati hillmen come close to their equal as mountain fighters.’

      Pug and Tomas looked with newfound respect