The Mine Lord: A Dwarven Survival Base-Builder Icevein: Chapter 10

Gretti could hear the laughter and song down the drift even through the closed door of the sleeping chamber that he shared with his cadre. He stood at his alcove, putting on yet another worn and faded shirt. His Hamr garb and armor lay folded and polished on his sleeping alcove, along with the weapons they had provided. No one would call him thief. He would leave as he arrived, and since he had sworn as kulhan for a year—the result of the wealthy Sledgefist plying Gretti with spiced ad after their brutal fight—he would receive no pay if he left now. He should never have sworn on for so long. It was wrong, done in a mont of weakness. He must break the lesser oath to keep the greater. It pained him, but he could not rest.

Gretti hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that his mother was displeased with him. She had been displeased with him since the slaughter. Why should it change in death?

“Why do you not avenge ?”

It had been her constant question.

“Because I would leave you destitute.”

“Better destitute of body than of duty.”

It had been years since she’d passed, and yet he could hear her voice clearly in his mind.

“Why do you not avenge ?”

They were out there, sowhere, while he played guard for the wealth of Glint. Now, he had a report that matched Tornheft, and if Tornheft was in East Spire, so might his cousins be. Gretti had spent months lingering around East Spire, and in the end he had only found one of the Highlodes there. Either he had missed Tornheft entirely, or the dwarf had arrived at East Spire later. Yet East Spire was an expansive claim, more a sprawling colony than a claim, and it was difficult to account for everyone.

He would account for the kulkur, now.

It would be easy to slip away unnoticed. With the feasting, no one was likely to realize he was gone for so ti. Besides, a kulhan wasn’t a slave, and so long as he took nothing, he broke no law. It was the right of a kulhan to forfeit his pay. Gretti slipped out of the chamber and down the drift, passing the line of openings into the Long Hall. Firelight flickered and hill-smoke flowed through the doors, wisping away in the draft. Gretti glanced inside and saw a rinlen. The celebration was at its full strength. The sun had risen outside, and hardly a soul would be above the stone except for a few guards staring east at the pass, bitter at missing the festivities. If Gretti was an ürsi, he would attack on the Day of Deliverance, but they were re beasts.

“Ironleg!” Sledgefist’s bellow startled him like a punch from behind. He spun around. Sledgefist strode toward him down the drift, resplendent in his polished gilt armor, his blond beard oiled and gleaming. Gretti’s own Hamr rinlen followed at the formidable dwarf’s heels. Sledgefist had clearly chosen to maintain his martial bearing for the feast, though he had put away his helm and gauntlets.

“What a fortuitous ti for a piss!” Sledgefist said, throwing an arm around Gretti’s shoulders. The familiarity unnerved Gretti. Since their first eting and fight,and the excessive amount of drinking after, Gretti had barely spoken a word with Sledgefist. It was not that Sledgefist ignored any of his Hamrs—he just rarely spoke to them as a individuals, with the exception of his rinlen. Apart from a few harmless brawls, Gretti had stayed out of trouble in the few months he’d been there.

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“How about a little fresh air, what say you, Ironleg?” Sledgefist led him down the drift toward the adit, arm still around his shoulders as if Gretti were an old drinking companion and not a kulhan. There was strength in that arm, propelling him forward.

It was morning outside the adit, and they squinted as they passed into the light and heat of the sumr day. The guards raised their weapons in salute. Sledgefist waved to them but led onward, out across the flagstones and to the edge of the shelf of rock that dropped away into the rivervalley. The Hamr rinlen held back as if by unspoken command.

Sledgefist removed his arm from Gretti’s shoulders and placed his hands on his hips, looking out over the wide vista. From there, one could see up and down the Gold River Valley, the bend directly below. The trader’s road ran both north and south. With a good wind, Gretti might have spit on it. No one who stood there could fail to see the strategic value of Sledge Rock.

“I take it by your clothes that you are off to seek one of the Highlodes.”

Gretti stiffened. He could try to push the dwarf from the ledge, but no doubt Sledgefist would expect it. He could try to run, but there were sober guards at the adit.

“I doubt my brother would countenance your mission,” Sledgefist added. He kept his voice low, so that neither the rinlen nor the guards would overhear.

“You will have to fight ,” Gretti answered, trying to make his tone flat.

“Oh, I know that. But I can think of another option.” Sledgefist pulled his arm away and faced him. He looked less intoxicated than he had a mont before.

Gretti raised an eyebrow in question.

“I do not like the shedding of blood between dwarves,” Sledgefist continued. “Our folk have enough enemies. But I have thought about it. . . and I would do the sa. I would avenge my kin. But then, you killed one of my brother’s Ridge Wardens. He would take that hard.”

“They had no right to detain .”

“Perhaps.” Sledgefist ran a hand through his beard. “My brother may be the Irik-Rhûl, but you are in my power, now.”

“What gave away?”

“I received a report two weeks after you arrived. I kept it to myself. I need fighters. But now you’re running.”

“I have to.”

“Where are you headed?”

Gretti paused.

“Work with and I’ll work with you,” Sledgefist said.

“East Spire.”

“Good. That’s what I was hoping.”

“Why?”

“I may need you to kill soone there.”

Gretti frowned.

“My killings are just,” he said. He was no one’s assassin.

“As are mine,” Sledgefist countered. “I said I would avenge my kin. I would also avenge my Hamrs. Deep Cut controls East Spire with their kulkur Jackals. It is good to have a dwarf on the inside.”

“Is there not peace between Deep Cut and Glint? Do you not trade?”

“We do. But our packstrings are watched, just as we watch theirs, and you cannot trust a Jackal.”

“I am no spy.”

“Of course not. You’d make a terrible spy.” Sledgefist actually laughed. “No, we have spies. One less of late. I had placed a dwarf in East Spire. A good dwarf. He’d d been a Hamr. Lost an eye in a tussle with ürsi ten years ago.”

“The Jackals killed him?”

“I don’t know for sure. He disappeared. If you’re going to East Spire, I want you to find out what happened to him, and if he was killed, avenge it.”

“Why do you need ? You said you have spies. Ask one of the others.”

“The others belong to my brother, and he would not countenance retribution against the Jackals. You hide sothing for , and I hide sothing for you.”

“It is unjust for to avenge his blood. It is not mine to avenge, it is yours.”

“I have many hands, and I wield many Hamrs.”

“I am no longer a Hamr.”

“Then you break your oath of kulhan.”

“And by claim law, I have left my wages and my kit, taking nothing but the food I have eaten as I served.”

“It is still an oath broken.”

Gretti felt the pierce of those words.

“If you remained a Hamr,” Sledgefist added, “then would you call it just?”

Gretti hesitated, thinking.

“It would be a just slaying.”

“Then accept this from my hand. I give you back your year’s wages. Do this task for as a Hamr and I release you, oath fulfilled.”

Gretti looked back at the adit to Sledge Rock. He had made the oath of kulhan, drunk or no.

“If your dwarf was murdered,” he said. “I will avenge him.”

Sledgefist smiled and slapped Gretti on the shoulder.

“Good. Now, let’s go back and finish this Day of Deliverance.”