Suddenly, the dragon coughed mightily, and a ball of combustible venom launched itself with frightening speed towards the steadily climbing attackers. Gwen shouted for joy. Now if only she could make the dragon do it again.
* * * * *
‘A bow is not my favourite weapon,’ Tanngrisnir was grumbling, as Eric brought their dragon zipping through the enemy flock. He loosed arrows to left and right, above and below, and Eric was glad to see dragons and their riders falling towards the distant ground.
‘Stop moaning and use it,’ Eric gasped. ‘Tally-ho!’ He flew at right angles to the ground, leading his pursuers through a narrow ravine. Glancing back as they flew along at almost ground level, he saw two dragons hit the sides of the gully at immense speed, and go up in balls of flame.
‘Remind me not to do that again,’ he told Tanngrisnir, who was holding onto his horned helmet with a wide-eyed expression. ‘It was even more dangerous than I’d thought.’
Adroitly, he skimmed the dusty ground, vanishing over a slope. At the bottom of it, he turned his dragon, and waited for his pursuers.
The beating of mighty wings grew louder, and suddenly a flock of black dragons shot over the crest of the rise, zooming straight over the gully. As soon as they appeared, Eric kicked the dragon into forward motion, and bore down on the leader, spouting flame as he came.
Trailing fire like a comet, the dragon vanished into the distance. Eric flew rapidly back the way he had come.
‘There’s Gwen and Ilmadis,’ Tanngrisnir shouted above the roar of the wind. ‘And Mordis and Hal.’
Their friends’ dragons were circling some way above. Otherwise, the skies were currently free of winged shapes.
Eric soared up towards them. Ilmadis spotted them first. ‘There they are!’
‘We thought they’d got you!’ Hal shouted. ‘What were you doing? Tell us later. Looks like the pursuit has died down. Mordis reckons we should get out of the mountains.’
‘Aye,’ Tanngrisnir agreed. ‘They will be less likely to follow us on the Dark Moon Plains. Come!’
The three dragons soared through the chill air, due south. Glancing back, Eric saw no sign of pursuit. It looked like his gully gambit had paid off.
* * * * *
The high mountains of the Dark Moon Fells gave way to lesser foothills. They followed the valley of the River Gioll, which passed through the mountains in a vast ravine that came down from the plateau ahead. Soon they were crossing the wide, empty plains of rock.
Far ahead, at the margin of the plains, mist curled and obscured the horizon. Tanngrisnir told them that it was the edge of Niflheim, the world of mist.
‘Where do your people live, Tanngrisnir?’ Hal called across to him.
‘Within the rocks and upon the muddy plains ahead of us,’ the dwarf replied. ‘We still have some way to go.’
‘Perhaps we should land, now,’ Mordis suggested. ‘We have outdistanced our pursuers, and I for one could do with a rest.’
Eric looked in Hal’s direction, and he shrugged. Why did everyone expect him to make the decisions? Wasn’t that Gangrel's job…? He went pale. He had forgotten about the old man. Did he still live after his fall from the tower? It seemed impossible.
They landed in the lea of a small hill. Rock and gravel stretched around them. Off to the left, about a quarter of a mile away, the River Gioll snaked across the plain.
‘They brought me here up that river,’ Gwen remarked, leaning against a boulder.
Hal turned to her eagerly. ‘Does it lead out of here?’ he asked. ‘Back to the caves under Alderley Edge?’
Gwen shrugged. ‘I don’t really remember the journey.’
Tanngrisnir looked sternly at Hal. ‘I hope you do not intend to leave,’ he said, staring up at the youth.
Hal shrugged, aimlessly. What was to keep them here now? ‘I thought, well; now we’ve got Gwen back…’ he said. ‘And now … now Gangrel's gone…’
‘You will give up and go home?’ Mordis asked suddenly, from where she had been tending to her dragon.
‘I don’t really have much of a home to go to,’ Hal said dolefully. ‘But Gangrel must be dead by now. I said we should wait for him!’ he shouted, suddenly angry.
‘If we’d waited for him, we’d all be dead,’ Eric said flatly.
Hal kicked angrily at a rock. Tanngrisnir leant on Helbrand, and glowered up at him. Ilmadis and Gwen exchanged glances. Then Mordis strode forward. She took Hal by the arm, and led him away.
‘We must talk,’ she said firmly.
Hal looked back towards the rocks, where Tanngrisnir was now lighting a fire against the cold, kindled with some woody fungus Ilmadis had found in the lea of a rock.
‘About what?’ he asked, refusing to look at her. He felt hopeless.
Mordis tossed her head. ‘I know little of your quest. What I do know I have heard from my cousin’s superstitious maunderings. I do not know if I truly believe in these foretellings. No one can know the future. And even if there is truth in them, why should I help you? You are working against my people…’
‘But they’ve cast you out, now...’ Hal replied, still looking away. ‘Look, Princess, I don’t really know what my quest is! Gangrel was close-mouthed about it until the end. Now he’s gone, I haven’t a clue! All I know is that he wanted me to get this Runeblade. I’m not even sure why.’
‘Then do so!’ Mordis cried. ‘Where is the Runeblade? The Foretelling says that it will be forged by the dwarves.’
Hal looked at her searchingly. He remembered her words from before. Did she truly…? But she was waiting for his answer. ‘I suppose so,’ he replied.
‘Then you must go to them,’ Mordis insisted. ‘Go to Aurvangar, and bid them forge your sword. Then… we shall see.’
‘Princess…’ Hal said suddenly. ‘Did you mean what you said before? In the castle?’
Mordis looked away, coyly. All of a sudden, the strange new Mordis who had spoken so sternly was gone. ‘Maybe,’ she said primly. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
She raced back towards the fire, laughing a mocking laugh.
Bewildered, Hal trailed after her. ‘Is Gangrel dead?’ he asked, looking round at the others. ‘That’s what I want to know.’
‘We must continue without him,’ Tanngrisnir said grimly. ‘And you, Hal, must learn to stand on your own two feet.’
Hal folded his arms, feeling more than a little insulted. ‘That’s all very well!’ he replied. ‘But Gangrel knew what he was doing. All I know is that I was supposed to go to the realm of the dwarves to get this Runeblade forged. Alright; I’ll do it. The Princess has convinced me. It’s either that or go home, somehow… and I don’t have a home to go to. And since we... since I abandoned Gangrel, the least I can do is what he wanted me to do.
‘But what am I supposed to do? Turn up on the dwarves’ doorstep and say, please sir, could you forge me a Runeblade? Tanngrisnir, you know them. What will they say?’
Tanngrisnir stroked his beard. ‘They will welcome you,’ he replied confidently. ‘They have been expecting your arrival for millennia.’
Hal looked at him blankly. Millennia? Thousands of years? He was only sixteen. ‘Oh,’ he said at last. ‘Well, that’s alright then.’ He laughed humourlessly. ‘And what do I do with this Runeblade?’
‘You must first learn how to wield it,’ Tanngrisnir replied. ‘And when you can, you must use it in the war against the Sons of Muspell.’
Hal rubbed his face numbly. This was all too much responsibility. ‘Well, alright,’ he said at last. ‘It doesn’t look like I’ve got much of a choice.’ He looked at the others. At Gwen, and at Eric. At Ilmadis, and Mordis. Then at Tanngrisnir again. ‘Tanngrisnir, I hope you’ll come with me,’ he said.
The dwarf bowed. ‘It will be an honour,’ he rumbled.
‘As for the rest of you,’ Hal said, looking around, ‘I don’t insist any of you come. Gwen, Eric; you’d be better off going home. Ilmadis, I hope you can return to
your own world. Mordis; the choice is yours.’
‘I’m coming!’ Gwen said indignantly.
‘I suppose that means I’m coming too,’ Eric added. ‘If you two are going to be wandering round dangerous places, you’ll need me to look after you.’
‘I’ll come with you, too,’ Ilmadis said, looking loyally at Gwen. ‘If you’ll permit me.’
Princess Mordis looked down her nose. ‘Since I have no pressing business at present,’ she said airily, ‘I believe I’ll join you.’
She leaned over, and much to his dismay, kissed Hal.
* * * * *
‘We’d be better off leaving these creatures,’ Tanngrisnir announced some time later. He was indicating the dragons, who lay curled up among the rocks.
‘Why?’ asked Mordis. ‘We will surely not walk to the dwarf-realm?’
‘If we fly in on dragons,’ Tanngrisnir said, ‘they will shoot us out of the sky, thinking us swart-elves.’
‘Some of us are,’ Mordis reminded him tartly.
‘Aye,’ Tanngrisnir replied in dour tones. ‘Which may lead to more problems...’
‘But what will they do if we just leave them here?’ Gwen asked. She had grown strangely fond of her reptilian mount. ‘There’s nothing for them to eat!’
‘They’ll return to Svartaborg as soon as they’re hungry,’ Mordis assured her. ‘That, or eat the dwarf!’
Tanngrisnir ignored her. ‘Lichen grows upon the rocks. They can eat that. And if they return to Svartaborg without us,’ he said, ‘the swart-elves may think us dead.’
‘Good thinking, Tanngrisnir,’ Hal said, heartily. He slapped the dwarf on the back. ‘Okay, so we’re walking. Say goodbye to the dragons, Gwen. We’re off!’
Shouldering their packs, containing the meagre rations they had found in the saddlebags, the six travellers began to pick their way across the plain of gravel.
Far behind them, the Dark Moon Fells loomed menacingly on the distant skyline. Occasionally, the distant specks of dragons flitted across the otherwise empty blackness. The cold plain stretched for miles around them. Mist obscured the horizon ahead.
The River Gioll wound across the plain, and they followed its gravel banks from the moment they struck it. It flowed rapidly past, back the way they had come, through the ravine, past Svartaborg, then down across the barren land beyond, into Helheim, and ultimately the dark and silent ocean where Hal had awoken so long ago.
Horror was behind them; ahead lay an uncertain destiny. Dismissing both the past and the future, Hal concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
END OF BOOK TWO
* * * * *
BOOK THREE: HALLS OF STONE
1 DARK MOON PLAINS
The wind blew cold across the Dark Moon Plains.
The dim forms that crept wearily along the river path were still far from their destination. Banks of mist hung in the air beside the bank, growing thicker as the wanderers crossed the plains. Their feet crunched in gravel as they plodded on through the gathering murk. Blank skies arched overhead, and the plain stretched dimly in all directions. Now and then, winged shapes would fly over, too high above to be more than dark specks against the black skies.
The River Gioll was little more than a stream here, and silent as it sped past them, eager to reach the plateau edge and leap tumbling into the lands beyond. Mist hung thickly over the waters, twisting and spiralling, lit by the witchfire that dimly illumined these worlds.
‘How much further?’ Eric said. Hal looked up from his plodding feet, eager to hear the answer.
‘Only a few more leagues, Light-foot,’ Tanngrisnir replied. ‘Do your feet drag now? Soon we will reach Aurvangar, and my people.’
Mordis drew a hissing breath. ‘And what kind of welcome will they extend to a swart-elf?’
Hal shrugged. No one answered. They plodded on in silence.
The wind grew louder, and it briefly dispersed the curtain of mist, opening windows upon the surrounding plain. Hal saw strange, gnarled rocks that resembled petrified warriors rising from the ground nearby.
Cresting a rise, where Gioll-stream tumbled over rapids, the travellers halted, gazing out across the muddy fields beyond. In the mist-hung murk, distant shapes were visible; buildings, it seemed to Hal, who squinted into the gloom at them. Or they might have been wind-carved cliffs. Mounds of rock, like slagheaps, dotted the expanse of mud.
Tanngrisnir halted, and loosened his sword belt. ‘That is Aurvangar,’ he said, indicating the distant, dimly visible buildings. ‘There the dwarves have their hall.’
‘What about their forge?’ Hal asked.
‘It lies below the Hall of Sindri,’ Tanngrisnir replied. ‘There the king of smiths will forge the Runeblade, if the Foretelling is true.’
‘And what then?’ Gwen said. She shivered as the cold winds howled around their vantage point.
‘About time we were moving,’ Eric said.
‘I wish to rest,’ Mordis announced. ‘I am unaccustomed to walking such distances.’
Hal looked at Eric, who shrugged. ‘Why not?’ He sat down in the lea of a boulder.
Hal and the others copied him, easing off their packs and find places to sit. Only Tanngrisnir remained standing, gazing out across the plain at the mist-hung halls of the dwarves.
‘It must be a long time since you’ve been in these parts,’ Hal said, looking up at the dwarf.
‘I failed my duty,’ Tanngrisnir said sombrely. ‘I was entrusted with the wardenship of the Midgard tunnel, I and my companions. But Prince Helgrim and his swart-elves slew my warriors. Only I escaped.’
‘But you’ve helped us since then,’ Gwen said. ‘You haven’t been wasting your time.’
‘Helped you?’ Tanngrisnir replied bitterly. ‘I introduced you to Althiof. See how that ended. Besides, I have been away too long.’
‘Dwarves are a stubborn, prideful lot,’ Ilmadis whispered, leaning over to Gwen. ‘He feels that he has betrayed his people’s trust.’
Gwen grunted. What a happy gang they were, these days. She leant back against a rock, and closed her eyes.
‘So the dwarves will forge my sword,’ Hal was saying. ‘What do I do then? I must learn to wield it? How do I do that? Tanngrisnir; who will teach me to wield the Runeblade?’
‘Who teaches the heroes?’ Tanngrisnir replied mysteriously.
‘You’re getting as bad as… as Gangrel ever was,’ replied Hal with forced cheerfulness. ‘So who does teach heroes?’
‘Quiet!’ Eric hissed suddenly, opening one eye.
He was leaning against a rock near Gwen, but he had been listening intently to distant noises. Seeing everyone’s eye on him, he leant forward. ‘I thought I heard… movement.’ He nodded back in the direction they had come. ‘From over there.’
‘Footsteps?’ Hal asked.
Eric looked puzzled. ‘More like… a kind of padding. Not human. Or elf, or dwarf - there it is again!’
This time, everyone heard the sound, a pad of feet from the far side of the rock. Something, maybe more than one thing - was prowling around - stalking them?
Suddenly, Princess Mordis stood up straight.
‘Get down!’ Hal hissed, trying to haul her back.
‘Don’t be a fool!’ She laughed. ‘They’ve come after me! Oh, my dearest ones!’
Hal looked up at her as if she had gone mad. ‘Who?’ he hissed. An awful thought struck him. ‘Not Prince Helgrim?’
Mordis strode past them, calling loudly. A rush of feet, and suddenly two wolves burst in among them.
Hal drew his sword. Tanngrisnir brandished Helbrand. Eric scrambled away from the rock.
‘No!’ Gwen shouted.
‘What?’ Hal cried. He stared at Mordis, who was fussing round the beasts, stroking their silver fur and pulling their ears. They fawned before her, darting glances at the others, occasionally growling.
‘Oh!’ Ilmadis said. ‘It is Ylg and Varg.’ She ran to join Mordis, and the wolves welcomed
her.
Gwen grinned at the others. ‘Morbid’s pet wolves,’ she explained succinctly.
‘They came after me!’ Mordis was bubbling. ‘All the way from Svartaborg, all the way across the plains! Your poor little paws! Did you run away after Mistress? I’ve missed you!’
Tanngrisnir studied the creatures dourly, and spat. ‘How do we know this isn’t some kind of trap?’ he said suspiciously.
‘Oh, rubbish,’ Gwen told him.
A swart-elf voice rang through the misty air.
‘I’ve lost sight of those wolves, captain.’
Hal glanced at Tanngrisnir. ‘A patrol!’ he hissed. ‘They must have followed the wolves!’
‘Hide!’ Tanngrisnir urged them, crouching down behind the rocks. ‘Everyone hide. Keep those wolves under control, Princess.’
He wriggled his way to the top of the boulder, and peered over it, back in the direction from which they had come; the direction from which the voice came.
‘They must be here somewhere; doubtless it means the Princess is near. Seek them out, and if you find her, remember our orders are to kill on sight; the Princess, and all her companions.’
Mordis gasped.
‘What can you see, Tanngrisnir?’ Hal hissed.
After a few more seconds, the dwarf slithered back down to join them. ‘A large patrol,’ he reported. ‘Nine or more swart-elves. Too many for us to fight, tired as we are. Keep your wolves quiet, Princess. We must hope they do not find us here, and move off.’
Just then, a clatter of hooves on gravel broke out, from somewhere ahead of their position. Hal looked at Tanngrisnir. ‘What do you suppose that is?’ he enquired.
‘Ponies!’ Tanngrisnir replied. ‘It must be my people.’ He struggled to his feet, but Eric pulled him back down.
‘Don’t show yourself yet,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what happens, first.’
‘What do you mean?’ the dwarf grunted.
‘Let’s see how the swart-elves react,’ Eric told him.
‘Who goes there?’ a voice roared from ahead.
‘Dwarves!’ a swart-elf cursed. ‘We’ve come too close to their territory.’
‘Give the password, or rue the consequences!’ the dwarf bellowed.
‘Svartaborg!’ the swart-elf shrieked.