Taker Of Skulls(51)

Utti glared at him once more. “You talk too much.”

“I speak only truth.”

“It has gotten much worse since Graghur returned, has it not?” Kormak asked. He was guessing but he thought he would throw that out just to see what kind of response it got.

Verlek nodded. “That is so. He is powerful and he is wicked and he seeks to destroy that which we protect.”

“He is an Old One,” said Kormak. He looked at Utti. “Do you revere him?”

Utti looked away. He made a peculiar grimace that Kormak could not interpret. Verlek spoke. He was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of opposing an Old One.

“He has his own shrine,” Verlek said. “You have seen his statue in the Underhalls.”

Utti rose and gestured to Verlek. “We are done talking.”

Verlek looked as if he wanted to defy Utti but he did not. Utti placed his hand on the door and drummed his fingers in a delicate pattern. With a creaking noise, the doorway rose again and the dwarves left.

Karnea stared at Kormak. “There is much that is strange here.”

“What were they saying?” Boreas asked. Karnea explained the gist of it to them, while Kormak studied the door. He wondered whether it had opened in response to the pattern Utti had tapped or whether that had been merely a signal for those outside to open it.

“You are saying that they revere the Old Ones. They think Kormak’s weapon is a blasphemy and yet they are forced to fight against Graghur.”

“It is a fight they cannot win, if they do not use the right weapon,” said Kormak.

“Let’s hope they know that too,” said Boreas.





The storehouse clearly had not been intended to hold living things. The air was close and stale and Kormak found himself wondering if they would suffocate if they remained trapped here too long. They lay on the flagstones and tried to sleep. There was little else for them to do save talk in subdued tones and that had swiftly become depressing.

Kormak stared at the ceiling and tried to plan a method of escape. They could try and overpower the guards when next the cell was opened, but even if they succeeded what then? They were still within the dwarf fortress and surrounded by an undetermined number of the Khazduri. Should they manage to escape, they needed to retrace their steps through the vast goblin haunted maze of the City in the Deeps. And they still would not have found what they came for.

They needed to convince the dwarves not to kill them, and to help them. It was not going to be easy since in the eyes of the dwarves they were heretics and blasphemers. He thought about that. It went against all the things he had been taught about the dwarves since he was a boy. They had rebelled against the Old Ones, just like many of the other Servitor Races. They hated their former masters with a passion. That was why they had created the runeswords for the Order. They were allies of men. Yet the dwarves they had found here did not fit that pattern. They still revered the Old Ones even though one of their ancient masters seemed hell-bent on destroying them.

He pushed all of these thoughts to one side. None of them were helping and none of them made the slightest difference. He needed to find out more. He needed to get out of this prison. He needed to get his sword back. He felt almost naked without it and he experienced a deep sense of shame when he remembered how he had surrendered it. He knew he was going to have to do something to expunge that.

Eventually, sleep came.





The door slid open with a grinding creak. Verlek, Utti and a number of other heavily armed dwarf warriors were there. Only Verlek looked remotely friendly and even his beard twisted agitatedly.

“You are to come with us, strangers,” said Utti. In Dwarvish, Kormak remembered the word stranger and enemy were synonymous. It seemed somehow appropriate. “The Dwarfmoot will judge you before the Wall of Skulls.”

There was a formal note to his speech that masked his dislike, but Kormak sensed some satisfaction in Utti’s manner that made him suspect that things were not going to go well for the humans.

The others picked themselves up. All of them looked dirty and dishevelled. It was clear they had not slept well. Utti gestured towards the door. The humans slowly made their way into the corridor. The dwarves fell into position in front and behind them and they marched back through the Hold.

This time their route took them much further and they emerged into a massive hall. A fire blazed before them, the first Kormak could recall seeing in Khazduroth. It emerged from a huge pit in the floor and it was not fuelled by coal or wood. He guessed it was volcanic in origin or perhaps fuelled by gas. Around the flame rose three stone rings, each higher than the next, they formed broad steps leading up to the flame.