Chapter III:
The Scars of the Earth
The Elementals
For three days the party continued into the south, traversing babbling streams, rolling hills and lush grasslands. There were small forests here and there, and a few rocky places where the dwarves said a great mountain range once stood. Agonas thought to himself that if ever there were mountains in this place, it must have been many ages ago.
Gheshtick asked the dwarves how they knew of the mountains, hoping they would cite some ancient history or record, but it turned out the dwarves kept no such records. 'Look at it,' Ereg said, pointing at the stones.
Gheshtick looked closely at the stones as they passed, but he could not see how the dwarf could make this claim.
'Does it not speak t' you?' Ereg asked. The dwarf still remained aloof from the elves, ignoring their questions and more or less pretending that they were not even present except when the challenges of their journey required it. But he treated Gheshtick with a kind of respect dwarves rarely bestowed upon outsiders. He also, as if to demonstrate the quick-mindedness of the dwarves, seemed to shed much of his peculiar mode of speech. He still spoke as few words as possible, but he adapted his language to the needs of the elves.
'No,' Gheshtick said, sounding puzzled.
Xan shook his head, but Gheshtick ignored him. 'What does it say?'
'Everything,' he answered.
'How does it speak?' Gheshtick asked.
'Color, form; these speak loud as words.'
'Except that those who speak words mean something by them,' Xan muttered.
'Some mean nothing,' Ereg replied quickly, giving the elf a fierce look.
'But you are suggesting that the stones speak. Now I grant that they have color and form, and I see it as plainly as do you, but to speak requires understanding. Otherwise it is just sound.'
'TRUE,' Ereg said swiftly. The dwarves chuckled, and a grin formed upon Gheshtick's face.
Xan was puzzled, and said, 'The rocks do not 'speak' because they do not understand.'
'You, too, do not understand,' Ereg said, inspiring still more laughter from his sons.
'I suppose I must grant you that much,' Xan said with a sigh. He quickened his pace and left them behind.
'Man, dwarves, all made of earth,' Ereg said when at last Xan had passed from earshot. 'You think, but not all of you - only the head. The earth thinks, but not all of it, only dwarves and man. These are the heads of the earth.'
Gheshtick nodded, thinking he was starting to understand what the dwarf was saying. 'But the stones speak?'
'The tongue thinks not, but speaks. So also the stones think not, but speak. Sound from the tongue, color from the stone, taste from the meat, scent from the flower - all of it has meaning. All is speaking.'
'What of animals? Do they also speak, then?' Agonas asked.
'They speak,' Ereg said without hesitation.
'What do they say, then?' Gheshtick asked.
Zefru thought the whole conversation was meant to be some kind of prank, but when he began to mock them Gheshtick pushed him away as if he were a troublesome insect. 'What kind of things do animals say?'
'Speaking is giving thoughts to others,' Ereg explained, 'The Ghilil rumbles, growls, tells us to flee. The stag of UngBrusht lifts its tail, and so tells its kin to beware. Men and dwarves have more words, but that is all.'
'And the earth speaks as well?' Gheshtick asked.
'Yes.'
'Through the Jee'Nai? Through the Jinn?' Gheshtick asked.
Ereg nodded.
'What are the Jee'Nai?' Gheshtick asked, hoping to learn still more from the dwarf.
'The Jee'Nai are the ones who understand,' he said, as though that was a simple enough explanation.
'You mean, they understand speech?' Gheshtick asked.
'No. They understand; they stand below - beneath all. They stand under,' Ereg seemed to have exhausted every word of explanation he could remember. Finally he shrugged, 'Just listen.'
'I am trying,' Gheshtick said disappointedly. He could not tell whether he was misunderstanding or if the dwarf was simply mad. 'Is this superstition or brilliance?' he asked himself quietly.
Ereg paused for a moment, and allowed his sons to pass him by.
Gheshtick stopped also, though he was not entirely sure that the dwarf wanted him to do so. He looked at Ereg for a while before finally making up his mind to continue walking. Just before he moved, however, Ereg said, 'The steam of the kettle, snow upon the mountain, the waves of the sea, all is water, but water is none of them. Water is steam, yeah, but steam is not snow or wave. Thus water is not snow, but snow is water - so water is not water. Do you understand? The Jee'Nai are the Elementals - they stand under the Jee, but are higher than them.'
After finishing these puzzling words, Ereg pulled his pack tighter upon his shoulders and marched on, leaving Gheshtick alone in his confusion.
The Scars
After two more days they came to a small village built along the shores of a gentle lake. The people were friendly, and it seemed as though there was nothing they would not trade in exchange for the skins of the Ghilil. The people had no gold, but they offered weapons and supplies and whatever other tools they possessed for the tough leathery flesh of the mysterious lizards. They had no need of weapons, however, so most of the trades were made for food and water-skins, and whatever else they thought might be needed on their journey. When the dwarves had restored all their provisions and made all the preparations they thought they would need they turned their attention to less important things.
Haf'ereg had some repairs made to his boots, Naj'ereg sought out a fletcher and tripled the number of quarrels he bore, and Fas'ereg purchased a vial of green liquor that the village healer called a Potene'dra - which means 'Drink of Strength'.
When each dwarf had acquired a new walking staff and had taken hot baths and braided their hair and beards they gave their remaining skins to the elves. With these they restored their provisions, purchased some clothes for the journey and paid for beds at the inn.
When the morning came they picked up their belongings and left the village with children waving, happy merchants bowing and with their own hearts uplifted. In that serene village it was very difficult to feel anything but hopeful. Even the dwarves, with the exception of Ereg himself, seemed to have a bounce in their step. Naj, the youngest of them, even smiled at some of the villagers as they left.
They followed a gentle path toward the southwest. They wound their way around tall hills of grass for the rest of the day, stopping to camp just off the road beneath a great willow tree. The next day they continued much in the same way, the morning turning into noon and noon into evening without any alteration. But as the sun began to sink toward the west, the wind suddenly changed, and a ghostly silence crept over the land. The birds that sang so beautifully along the road seemed to flee from this place, and the grass suddenly looked pale and dry. They rounded a bend and, all of a sudden, they faced a great chasm like unto nothing the elves had ever seen or imagined.
The gap was not terribly wide - Agonas guessed that three tall pine trees from Ilvas could traverse it, if each was bound end to end. But the depth and length of the chasm was unlike anything he had ever seen before. 'The gods,' Zefru swore, his eyes bulging as though they were ready to leap from his face.
'How could one think such a thing was possible if he had not seen it?' Gheshtick asked. 'It is a marvel! What is this place?'
'This is the first Scar,' Xan said worshipfully. 'There are two more like unto it. According to the dwarves, it is here that the dragon Khuhu'Nai tore at the earth; ages ago when the dwarves wounded him. They say that ten-thousand men of iron battled him here, and in the end they cut off his leg. With his remaining arm he tore at the earth, as if to rend it asunder. No one knows how deep these chasms are, but they are longer than an entire nation, stretching from the dwarf kingdoms of Turg and Fist in the west all the way to the
Manlands in the east.'
'Men of iron?' Zefru laughed. 'These are peculiar lands indeed!'
'That is what the dwarves say,' Xan said with a slight grin, obviously satisfied that at least one of his companions found the dwarf tales to be as incredible as he did.
'What are these iron-men?' Gheshtick asked, curious as ever. 'Are they a race of people?'
'They are men of iron, master elf,' Xan laughed, what else would you think?'
'Names are not always framed in such a straight sense,' Gheshtick said.
'The word means men of iron,' Xan said. He paused for a moment and then added, 'And in their tongue it means 'men' and not dwarves.'
'But you said that they believe it was the dwarves who fought the dragon,' Gheshtick said puzzled.
'All that I could learn by way of an explanation is that "the dwarves are in the men," which I have never been able to puzzle out.'
'How will we cross them?' Agonas asked suddenly, turning his thoughts from the grandeur of the scene and from their speculations back to their task. 'Is there a bridge?'
Xan shook his head, saying, 'No one builds or dwells here. It is sacred to the dwarves, terrifying to men, and perilous for all.'
'And this is not the only Scar?' Agonas asked.
'There are three,' Xan said as he breathed deeply.
'Is there no other way for us to travel?' Agonas asked, looking doubtfully at the chasm before him. 'Can they be circumvented?'
'Not without entering Turg or Fist in the west, which are nations unfriendly to Sparkans and humans alike. We could perhaps go into the East, but then we would troubled by the lords of the Manlands, and we would have to pass through UngBrusht and LufBrusht, neither of which are easy to navigate.'
'Then what course shall we take?' Gheshtick asked, tearing his eyes away from the spectacle in front of them. 'Are you saying that we must… cross these Scars?'
'We can,' Ereg said, suddenly breaking into the conversation. 'First we l'speak t' Elementals.'
Xan explained, 'The dwarves say that the Elementals speak more clearly the deeper into the earth one descends. I do not understand it, and I do not believe in their spirits. But they get sound results, and who can argue with that? I know not how, but I know that.' Ereg nodded, as if to show that he approved of Xan's words.
Ereg began to unburden himself, but Gheshtick stopped him. 'May I go also?' he asked the dwarf.
Ereg's sons looked at their father with horror in their eyes. San and Fas stepped forward with anger apparent upon their faces, saying, 'We go!' It was apparent that whatever the dwarf meant to do, they did not want the elves to have any part in it. A whole debate seemed to rage between them as they stood facing one another.
Finally Ereg smiled and said, 'Gaia'd.' His oldest sons grinned and nodded, changing their minds in an instant - and seeming quite content with the way their 'discussion' had gone. Ereg looked at the elf with a strange expression and then led the party on toward the chasm. Gheshtick did not know what to make of the dwarf's strange actions, but he could not help but think that the strange look he just noticed on Ereg's face was a look of guilt.
Into the Depths
Early the next morning a tremendous coil of rope was pulled out of Naj's pack and fastened to a great boulder that hung over the edge of the chasm. The dwarves tied the knots quickly but carefully, making every effort to ensure that the rope would hold its position despite the stress that would soon be placed upon it. Ereg took hold of the rope and walked to the edge of the Scar. He turned toward Gheshtick and the others and said, 'Fas'ereg, the elf, then San'ereg,' giving the order in which the others were to follow. The younger dwarves, and indeed also the elves, seemed to understand from this expression that no others were to accompany him as he descended into the earth.
The dwarf held fast to the rope and walked backwards over the edge and stood upon the side of the cliff. He did not bother fastening the rope to himself; his only precaution was to wrap the rope once around his wrist. Agonas gasped when he saw him step over the edge. It had never occurred to him that such a thing could be attempted. He had not yet come to understand the strength and endurance of the dwarves, nor did he understand the precision with which they controlled their own bodies. Ereg was as likely to fall, the dwarves knew, as the ocean was likely to freeze over during the night.
After ten minutes had passed Fas took up the rope in the same way his father had. He lifted it with ease, and nodded as he discerned that his father was no longer holding onto it. The elves were all pale-faced and fearful, but the dwarves seemed to think nothing of it. He looked at Gheshtick with an evil grin and leaped over the edge, swinging far from the cliff as he dropped away from sight just short of a free fall. This action almost sent the elves into a horrified panic, but the calm demeanor of their guides kept them from speaking out.
San, the eldest of Ereg's sons, snorted. He took up the rope after five minutes and, noticing the absence of his brother's weight, he handed it to Gheshtick.
Gheshtick walked over toward the edge of the cliff, swallowed hard and then wrapped the rope three times around his arm. The dwarves burst into laughter.
San smiled smugly and took another rope from Naj's sack, tied it to the rock and fastened it to Gheshtick's waist. 'I l'lower you,' he said with a nod.
Gheshtick, feeling only slightly more secure, slipped carefully over the edge. The moment his body was free of the rock he panicked, and kicked his legs wildly. As he looked up toward the top of the rock he saw the laughing faces of the dwarves appear. After all their bearded faces leaned over the edge he saw Xan, carefully peeking down at him with a satisfied grin on his face.
After a moment he regained his courage and began half to climb down the cliffside and half to be lowered into the chasm like a bucket into a well. After about ten minutes he came to rest upon a ledge of rock that jutted out from the wall of the cliff. 'Is this where we will hear the Elementals?' he panted, as Ereg and Fas pulled him onto the rock.
Fas shook his head.
'Three more,' Ereg said, walking slowly toward a large stone jutting out of the ledge. The stone was rounded at the top from long years of wind, rain and rushing waters, but the base of the rock was slightly thinner than the top. There Ereg could see the wear from ages of taut ropes, lowering dwarves into the depths.
This place was not frequented by the Sparkans alone; dwarves from the land of Five Kings, as well as from the northern lands of Turg and Fist visited this place, each seeking the wisdom of the Elementals. It was a sacred place to the dwarves, as far as dwarves are wont to revere anything. It was deep in the earth; closer to that upon which heaven and earth rested. And how solid must that foundation be! The dwarves did not even have a word for it, for even their word for earth was impossible to utter in a sufficient tone to express its solidity.
Ereg ran his fingers across the worn form of the stone, remembering the time when his own father had brought him to this place. The way to the Place of Hearing, which is what the dwarves called the place to which they were descending, was a secret among the dwarves. He knew that his father would not have permitted these elves to manipulate him, nor would he bring them to this sacred place. But he had been feeling a stirring in the earth long before the elves came, and long before Dan'ereg had been kidnapped. Some of the others in Sparka had felt it also, but they could not hope to discern it from the surface. He hoped that the Elementals would have an answer.
San's descent was quicker than his father's, but not as reckless as that of Fas, who seemed as interested in demonstrating his skill and courage as he was in their task. Almost as soon as San reached the ledge Ereg tied another rope to the top of the stone and began climbing down. Each dwarf carried enough rope to continue this method of descent another five times.
This time Fas descended in the same, somewhat careful way that San had, since there was no longer anyone to impress. He acted as though Gheshtick was not present, however, and neither looked at him n
or spoke to him.
After their second descent, Gheshtick noticed that the morning light had all but vanished, leaving them in what seemed like an untimely dusk. By the time they reached the third ledge the light very nearly vanished away. The sun was nearly at its highest, but down where the dwarves sought the Elementals it was as dark as night. A frightful silence seemed to creep over the cliffside as they climbed down past birds' nests and snake holes, coming to a damp and empty place far beneath the surface of the earth. The air was thick and Gheshtick found that he had to fight hard for every breath. The dwarves, conversely, seemed to breath more easily and comfortably in this strange place.
The fourth ledge, much to Gheshtick's dismay, was not located immediately beneath the others. The dwarves took up their packs and made their way along narrow, slippery paths and down treacherous slopes as they descended still further, finally coming to another jutting rock ledge. Again they descended, this time into complete darkness. Gheshtick could do nothing but cling to the rope as San slowly lowered him over the edge. As he made this final descent he began to notice what seemed to him to be a distant rumble.
When at last he reached the bottom, Ereg pulled him into the mouth of a stone cave. The dwarf then guided him to a flat place where he could sit and rest. After untying his ropes he gave him water to drink from a skin. 'Wait,' Ereg said before vanishing from his vision. In a short while he returned with Fas and San in his train. 'The Hearing Stone is farther down,' he explained, offering his hand to help the elf to his feet.
Gheshtick rose and took up the rear, following the dwarves into the dark tunnel. After the light from the cave vanished from view, Gheshtick stopped and said, 'Can we have a light? I am no good in these dark passages.'
The younger dwarves snickered, but Ereg shuffled around in the dark for a minute, finally lighting a torch and passing it first to San and then to Fas, and finally into Gheshtick's hands.
'Thank you,' Gheshtick said. He found it surprisingly easy to keep his patience since he was essentially helpless in these depths.
An hour or two seemed to pass and the rough ground wound steadily downward into the heart of the earth. Gheshtick marveled at the cave, for it was clearly no natural cavern - it had been carved by hand ages ago by dwarves miners. Just as he was preparing to exclaim his amazement at their accomplishment, however, the party entered a large open area. A gust of hot air struck his skin and he gasped, filling his lungs with a wretched odor. He coughed, attempted to fill his lungs once again, and fell to the ground clawing at the stone floor. The sounds in the cave grew distant, and he thought he could hear the sound of laughter echoing a hundred times throughout the chamber. His mind slowly faded into a dark, nightmarish slumber. The last thing he saw as his eyes grew dim was the flicker of his tying torch. He could not discern which flickered out first, the light or his own awareness.
'Up with 'em,' Ereg commanded impatiently. His sons sniffed, but obeyed without any delay. They roughly dragged the unconscious elf out of the chamber and back up the tunnel to a place where the air was still breathable.
San leaned in and listened to his chest for a moment before, satisfied that the elf yet lived, he turned back to return to his father.
Ereg had not waited for them, but had begun making his way across the large chamber. By the time his sons reached him he was standing before a great stone door etched with elaborate carvings of beasts and dwarves. San and Fas stood there bewildered; they could discern that the carvings were a lock of some sort, but they had no idea how the door might be opened.
'Watch,' Ereg said firmly, giving the command only because of the importance of what he was about to do, and not because he had any doubts about his sons' attentiveness. In a frenzy of motion Ereg began sliding his fingers along the etchings upon the door, his skilled hands carefully manipulating tiny levers and switches as he unlocked the great stone door. After about a minute there was a loud snap and the door creaked open upon steel hinges. San and Fas looked at one another solemnly; for they were now privy to a secret the dwarves shared only with their own race. They would not need to see again what their father had done. They remembered every movement and every switch he had touched. They would be able to do it themselves the next time they came without any further instruction. They followed Ereg into the chamber.
The room into which they had entered had a low ceiling; in some places the rocks above them nearly came down to touch the stony floor. There were four stands in each corner into which one might place a lit torch. But Ereg was content with the darkness. Dwarves could not see quite so well in the pitch dark as they could with a lamp or a torch, but they could see well enough for their purposes. Ereg had visited this place once before with his own father, and knew the shape of the chamber well enough from memory. His sons had heard it described before, and would therefore know enough to find their way without too much difficulty. Fas struck his head upon something, but he quickly shut his eyes and swallowed his pain, lest the others think he had injured himself through clumsiness - a thing to which no dwarf would ever admit.
In the center of the chamber was a great pool formed from a tiny trickle of cold water that dripped from the ceiling of the cave. 'Behold,' Ereg said, 'Ocreov, portal t' Elementals. Listen t' voice of t' earth; listen t' voice of t' Jee'Nai.' This last word was spoken in as low a tone as Ereg could manage, and his voice almost sounded like the rumble of thunder. The brothers began to feverishly remove their gear and to strip off their clothing. Soon the three dwarves sat beside the water in nothing but their undergarments, breathing deeply and calmly. 'We must fill ourselves with the Jee,' Ereg said as he closed his eyes and began a long slow breath. His sons imitated him, each one taking deep, purposeful breaths, and letting their chests rise and fall at a set rhythm.
Ocreov
After nearly ten minutes of careful breathing, Ereg inhaled sharply. His sons opened their eyes for a moment, and saw that he was now looking at them. He nodded to Fas, and then shut his eyes once more to resume his breathing. Fas rose slowly, his chest still rising in rhythm with his father and brother. He stepped slowly into the water and made his way toward the center of the pool where the water was the deepest. The water was extremely cold, but he did not hesitate as it enveloped his flesh. His beard reached the surface of the water, and in another moment his head sunk beneath the cold liquid.
The water entered his ears as he descended into the dark water, and soon his foot stepped beyond the bottom of the pool and left him floating in the middle of the water. Great and terrible sounds echoed in his ears, sounds from regions of the world that could not be seen or reached, sounds from his own home, and a great rumble that sounded almost like the very breath of the earth. In that place a dwarf could discern the rumblings of things great and small as they occurred throughout the land of Kharku. The most adept among them could sense when a bird alighted on a twig on a mountaintop four-hundred leagues distant. Such a gift was rare, and those who possessed it were called 'Hearers'.
Ereg's great-grandfather had been such a man. When he visited the Ocreov he learned that the Drake'Ya was on the move and heading into the Northwest. He warned the people of Sparka, and sent messengers to the kingdoms of Turg and Fist. The messengers never arrived, however, and the Beast ravaged their lands, while the people of Sparka survived unvexed.
The other nations did not forgive Ereg's people for this failure, and they severed their ties, denouncing them as enemies.
Compared to the thunderous crashing and tearing of the earth that was heard by Ereg's ancestor, the sounds that made their way into Fas'ereg's ears were subtle and quiet. He kept himself still and listened attentively for as long as he was able. In the end his lungs began to burn and he was driven against his will to the surface.
He burst from the Ocreov and gasped for air, spluttering and choking as he struggled in the darkness. San and Ereg remained perfectly still, their chests yet maintaining the rhythm they had established before he entered th
e pool. They did this as much to prepare themselves for the waters as they did to avoid disturbing Fas as he listened to the Elementals.
Without a word Fas took his former place and began breathing in the same way as the others. At first his breaths were heavy and labored, but as time wore on he grew calm and his chest fell into the same pattern as his fellows.
When at last the three of them were breathing in unison, San rose from his place, gently stepping into the pool. His experience was much the same as his brother's, and about ten minutes after he entered, he returned, panting for breath at the pool's edge. When at last his breathing returned to normal, Ereg spoke, saying, 'What say't they?'
Fas opened his eyes and looked at his brother. San nodded, and Fas began to speak, explaining every sound and every rumble he felt while he was submersed. 'I hear't it,' he said, shaking his head in disbelief. 'I hear't it breathing. In t' south, on a mountain, resting.'
San nodded quickly in affirmation, for he had come to the same conclusion.
Ereg looked into each of their eyes in turn, taking nearly a minute to examine their faces.
'What else hear't?' Ereg asked.
'War-sounds,' San said, looking to Fas for affirmation. 'In Turg and Fist armies prepare, t' fight one another, or, together, t' fight against t' land of t' Five Kings.'
'Sparka l'be call't t' war also,' Ereg said with a sigh. Though the men of Turg and Fist hated the Sparkans, they would expect them to march to war with them, if conflict broke out between their nations and the land of the Five Kings. He shook his head in frustration before he remembered to swallow his feelings.
It all came from carelessness with words, he thought to himself. The other dwarves were not so bad as the Coastmen with their lingual errors, but still, as far as dwarves go, they were careless. This was especially true of the land of the Five Kings, which named the border regions according to the nations to which they were adjacent. The northernmost kingdom, for instance, was named 'Antfister', which literally means, 'Against the land of Fist'. It was so named because of its location, and not out of any special hatred of its northern neighbors. As much as this peculiar naming convention caused trouble with the northern lands of Fist and Turg, it paled in comparison with the troubles that arose with the eastern kingdom, which was named, 'Antsesno' or, 'Against the Kingdom of Seasons'. The dwarves of Turg and Fist could, so long as there were no other hostilities, understand their southern kin. But the men of the southeastern region of Kharku took the name as a perpetual declaration of war, and utterly refused to permit any dwarf within their lands. Many wars had been fought between the two nations, and the lands to the southwest of the Sesan Lake were all but deserted and desolate. If any man or dwarf entered those lands it was taken as an act of aggression.
'I l'hear what I l'hear,' Ereg said, rising deftly from the stone floor and wading quickly but gently into the water. In a moment his hair vanished beneath the surface and in another moment the whole pool was calm once again.
The Elementals came to him, each one crying out in a thousand voices. He heard at once the distant rumble of the Drake'Ya's breath. The Beast lay in the sun on the eastern slopes of Sodeppa Mountain, where it might rest under the warm rays of the rising son. But Ereg could sense an unease in the creature's breathing, as if the beast wearied of its sleep. It did not sound as it had the last time he had come to the Hearing Stone - which is the name the dwarves had given to the pool (Remember, they have only one word for all substances, and the importance of this body of water was enough to merit the word 'stone', which they would typically reserve only for hard substances). When he had come with his father the beast slept deeply, its breathing slow and measured, as if it were the heartbeat of the earth itself. But he heard irregularities, and slight disturbances in its respiration. 'It l'wake soon,' he said within himself. 'Drake'Ya l'wake to feed, and Kharku l'suffer.'
He could also discern some unrest in the west, where a great number of people gathered in Turg and Fist, their armored footsteps shaking the ground. The pattering of their feet was slight, and it was not easy to tell what they were doing or how many of them there were, but Ereg could tell that some great force was assembling.
He cast his attention about, learning whatever he could from each corner of Kharku, listening carefully to every tremor and carefully considering the motions that came into his ears from the farthest corners of the land. He began to call out within his mind, 'Ocreov! Ocreov! What is this rumbling in Turg? What is the rumbling in Fist?'
After a pause, a voice seemed to spring up from within his own mind. 'I am Ocreov, ask me what you will.' Before his eyes the water seemed suddenly illuminated, as if a tiny star had fallen into it.
'What hear't?' Ereg asked the Elemental, when at last it stood before him.
'I have heard everything, from the Peppered Desert to the Kingdom of Seasons. I have heard the trouble in Turg and I have felt the unease in Fist. The nations prepare for war, and Turg will call upon Sparka when the battle goes ill.'
'It l'go ill?' Ereg asked.
'In Fist there has been born one of the golem riders, and there are now seven golems marching among their warriors. Antfister is shaken to the core, and they have sent many gifts to Fist, and have all but offered their allegiance.'
'Such alliance l'mean death for Turg,' Ereg realized. The single nation, mighty though its warriors were, could not hold out against the combined might of the land of Five Kings, certainly not if they were also allied with the land of Fist. But more troubling to him was the idea that Turg would seek help from Sparka.
In all the strife between Turg and Fist, the dwarves of Turg refused to seek aid from Sparka. But if there were golems in Fist, they might very well decide to forget their grudge and ask Ereg's people for aid. The Sparkans would, essentially, be swallowed up as a people by Turg for the sake of this war. 'What l'happen t' Sparka?' Ereg asked urgently. He was beginning to feel pain in his lungs as his body cried out for air.
'Sparka will be no more,' the water elemental said coldly. 'Those who survive will dwell with the outcasts of Turg in the Peppered Desert, far from their old homes.'
'The Coastmen?' Ereg asked.
'They are already dead,' the elemental said.
Ereg gasped and then spluttered with the surprise. 'What you say't?'
'The Coastmen are already dead,' the elemental repeated, without emotion.
Ereg shook his head. 'How could this be?' he asked himself. 'What happen't?'
'Can Sparka be save't? Ereg asked quickly, knowing that his time was running short indeed.
'To the Peppered Desert you must go, whether you join with Turg or refuse.'
'Sparkans never l'go,' Ereg said, fear threatening to overcome his control. They would die - every soul among them would die before leaving their home for the goblin ruled northern desert.
'Then they are as dead as the Coastmen,' the elemental said as it flickered into nothingness. As soon as the light of the elemental vanished darkness overwhelmed Ereg and he knew nothing.
A few moments later Ereg awoke at the edge of the pool, his two sons standing over him with as much worry on their faces as dwarves allow themselves to reveal. When he had not returned after so long submersed they grew worried, and Fas finally gave in and dove in after his father. San was reluctant to interrupt his father's work, but when he saw how little strength remained in Ereg he was glad, if only this once, that Fas was so rash and headstrong.
'I live,' Ereg muttered weakly. 'We all live, for now.'