Champions of the Gods (31 page)

Raene laid out yet another body and looked down the long line of fifty—there were twenty more such rows stretching across the field. She was becoming increasingly furious with the crows, who tried to peck the eyes out of her fallen kin. She used her power against them, blasting the birds with stone and dirt every time they got too near. Soon the crows became weary of her and resorted to feeding off the fallen humans and beasts instead.

On the second morning after Whill left, Raene saw the first silhouettes of hawks flying toward Brinn. She knelt in the mud, exhausted from her toiling. She had slept not at all and eaten little. The stench of the battlefield kept her feeling sick the entire time. Twenty thousand bodies had sat out in the sun and rain for two days and were quickly expiring.

Roakore landed with Silverwind and quickly leapt off the beast. He ran to Raene and took her up in a big hug.

“Me cousin, I came as soon as I heard.”

Raene broke down despite herself. She had seen so much violence and death in the past year that she finally cracked. Her father was dead, her eldest brother as well. Thousands of dwarves had died. The weight of loss was more than she could bear.

Kelgar was gathered, along with others of the Ky’Dren line. Thirty hawk riders in all had come with Roakore, along with Helzendar. That afternoon the great birds set out with sixty dwarves. The riders remained behind to guard and gather the dead. Only Roakore, Raene, and Helzendar flew with the birds.

The flight from Brinn to Northern Ky’Dren took them more than half a day. They came upon a regimen of five hundred dwarves before sundown and landed to instruct them to continue on toward Brinn. The grave news was relayed as well.

Raene directed Roakore and Helzendar to the highest peak of the northern mountains, which loomed above the city in which she knew her brother would be.

The dead were taken up by many dwarves as news of their arrival spread throughout the city. Roakore told Silverwind to bring the flock to Brinn and carry others back until the task was complete.

Dwellan reached them an hour after they arrived as they ventured with the procession down the many stairs and lifts. His face turned ashen when he looked upon his brother, who was shrouded in a fine cloth and carried by four grim dwarves. Dwellan greeted Raene, Roakore, and Helzendar in turn and joined the procession down to the city circle.

They were offered quarters, along with food and drink. The bodies still had to be prepared for burial deep in the heart of the mountain, and more would be coming behind them.

When she was alone in her quarters, Raene collapsed on the bed and cried until there was nothing left. She then picked herself up and vowed to cry no more. This was a dark time for the dwarves of Ky’Dren—two kings had died in less than a week. Her people needed her to be strong.

And by the gods, she was going to be.

After bathing in the nearby hot springs, she met Roakore and her brother for an early dinner. Helzendar was there as well, along with a few of the royal advisors who had served King Ky’Ell, and much more briefly, King Kelgar.

Dwellan was unofficially the king of Ky’Dren now, as the ceremony had yet to take place. Still everyone treated him as such.

“To me brother and me father, brave and righteous dwarves they were. Ky’Dren give me the strength to be half as strong and blessed as they,” said Dwellan, raising his glass before the meal began.

“Here, here!” said Roakore, clanging his glass against his cousin’s.

They feasted on head cheese and pit-fired potatoes, carrots, onions, radishes and the dwarven favored heavy wheat bread. Ale accompanied the feast, of course, along with twenty-year-aged whiskey.

Raene told the story of the battle of Brinn as they dined. The dwarves cheered when she spoke of the invasion of Belldon Island and scowled at the news of the retreat. They rejoiced again when she told them how the blessed had created a wall of spinning blades to keep the falling undead at bay, but again commiserated when she spoke of the spell that had killed them all. Their scowls deepened as Raene told them how her kin had been raised from death by Zander. Finally, however, came the news that Whill and Gretzen had helped turn the undead dwarves and humans against the necromancer. In the end they had vanquished the hated foe and moved on to the Mountain of the Gods.

And how the dwarves at the table cheered.

The following day, Kelgar was laid to rest in the chambers of the kings beside his father. The funeral was a solemn affair. Many of Kelgar’s children spoke of their father, a dwarf who had been known to be a master craftsman and warrior.

Roakore spoke for his cousin as well, saying how he had welcomed the refugees from Ro’Sar those decades before when the draggard invaded the mountains.

Lastly, Raene stood before the gathering and looked out over the thousands of dwarves. She made no grand speech that day; instead she sang a song, one that had come to her while she spent the two days gathering her slain kin. The song became known by every dwarf in Agora in the years that followed.

O’er mountains high and valleys low

I’ll ferry me brother home, ferry me brother home

O’er darkened lakes and oceans blue

I’ll ferry me brother home, ferry me brother home

Ky’Dren give me strength, help me bear me loss

And ferry me brother home, ferry me brother home

For the day be short, and the road be long

I’ll ferry me brother home, ferry me brother home

Dwellan was sworn in as king beneath the shadow of Mount Ky’Reck. The hot summer day was clear and bright, with not a sign of the dense fog that had for weeks been creeping south from Shierdon. The holy dwarf Fior performed the ceremony along with Roakore, who was the highest-ranking dwarf in the mountain that day.

After Dwellan had been crowned, he stood high above the dwarves in the morning sun and offered a prayer to Ky’Dren.

“Me king o’ kings, bless them who’ve fallen before us, and open yer doors to ‘em. For they was the best o’ us, and they should ever dine in the Mountain o’ the Gods. Glory be to Ky’Dren.”

“Glory be to Ky’Dren,” the crowd repeated.

“Me dwarves, these be dark times we be livin’ in. We’ve faced draggard invasions, dark elf magic, and a necromancer with unholy power. Yet here we stand, victorious.”

The crowd cheered and slammed their fists to their chests repeatedly.

“Heroes have risen up among us. Dwarves who exemplify what it means to be a dwarf, and what it means to be a warrior. One stands out above all others in me mind, and to this dwarf I shall bestow the medal o’ honor, and the golden heart o’ Ky’Dren.”

The dwarves stirred, excited by the declaration. The golden heart of Ky’Dren was the dwarves’ highest honor, given only to those who had risen far beyond the calling of the gods. Recipients of the golden heart were the most respected and revered dwarves in all the kingdoms, aside from the kings themselves.

“This dwarf has fought not only against the enemy, but also an oppressive belief system that would have seen her kept from her true calling.”

A gasp swept through the crowd. Females began to chatter excitedly, and the males eyed the king suspiciously. For Dwellan had said
her
.

Standing back behind the king, Roakore glanced sidelong at Raene, whose face had gone pale. Roakore winked.

“This dwarf be one o’ the fiercest dwarves to ever come out o’ the Ky’Dren Mountains,” said Dwellan. “
She
has killed dragons, draggard, dark elves, and legions of other hellish beasts bent on destruction. She be a blessed of the gods, and surely one of their most righteous champions. I speak now o’ me sister, Raene o’ Ky’Dren!”

The crowd stared in shocked disbelief.

Roakore nudged Raene and offered her a firm nod. This was the moment that she had been waiting for her entire life—recognition as an equal. Now that the time had come, however, she froze.

Thousands of eyes stared at her, waiting to see what she would say, what she would do.

Then she forgot herself and stepped forward, remembering that this wasn’t about her. This was about all female dwarves of Agora. The point was not that Raene could do the same things as dwarf males, but that every dwarf female could as well.

Dwellan stepped aside for his sister, and she took the few steps up to the wide podium. She looked out over the crowd and saw the beaming faces of the females, and her heart leapt. Fior walked to the steps and took them slowly, carrying with him a large heart of pure gold set on a thick gold chain. He reached the top of the stairs, bowed to Raene, and handed Dwellan the golden heart of Ky’Dren.

“Raene,” said Dwellan, raising the chain above her head. “Our father and our culture tried to keep ye from yer path. Had they been successful, Ky’Dren would’ve been robbed o’ one o’ its greatest heroes. I present to ye the golden heart o’ Ky’Dren.”

Raene bowed her head, and Dwellan slipped the golden chain over her fiery hair.

“I name thee, Raene the Goldenheart,” said Dwellan.

He stood back and slammed his fist to his chest and gave her a deep bow. A thousand female fists hit their bosoms and they bowed low, smiling one and all. The male dwarves had no choice but to follow their king’s lead and solute Raene properly.

Dwellan straightened and smiled on his beaming sister. “Long ago the kings saw the wisdom in listening to the advice o’ the Goldenhearted, for they be the most righteous o’ us all. Therefore, as is custom, Raene Goldenheart, ye’ve the power to draft a law.”

Raene almost cried. Lips quivering, she set her jaw and lifted her chin.

The crowd seemed to have forgotten about that part, for many gasps erupted from the gathering. All eyes were glued to her.

“Have ye anything in mind, or do you wish for a stay, until such time as ye be prepared?” Dwellan asked.

“No,” said Raene. Her voice echoed through the cavern, silencing it completely. “I have a proclamation to make. As is my right as a Goldenheart.”

“Very well,” said Dwellan, turning back to the crowd and raising his arms wide. “The Goldenheart wishes to speak!”

He motioned for her to take to the center of the podium and stepped back.

Raene stepped up to the pulpit and gripped the silver mallet sitting there. The dwarves waited for her words with held breaths.

“We have been blessed by the gods,” she said, eyeing the crowd, trying to look at all of them as she spoke. “When once we could only move stone, now we can move wood, water, wind, fire. When once only a direct descendent o’ Ky’Dren had the power to move stone, now, many others have been chosen by the gods. They’ve given us a great gift, the gift o’ change. I would follow their lead. In their great wisdom they’ve chosen to bestow great power and responsibility upon those who in the past were deemed unworthy. I wish to do the same.”

The females gripped their husband’s arms or hugged each other, waiting on needles for Raene to speak the words. The brows of the males steadily furrowed.

“Therefore, in the spirit o’ the great wisdom o’ the gods, I decree that females should be havin’ all the same rights and privileges as males.”

The silence in the cavern was thick with tension. Suddenly the place erupted with the cheers of the females and outrage of the males. A few fights even broke out as dwarves tried to rein in their women.

“Silence!” Dwellan bellowed over the tumult.

The room quieted, but a few blustery men spoke out against the decree.

“This be an outrage, we treat our female folk like goddesses!” said one.

“What do they be needin’ claims to land and titles o’ state?” asked another.

“They be needed to raise the youngins and keep house!” one added.

“Females be worth more than the milk in their bosom!” Raene screamed, silencing all malcontents. “They got more to contribute to the clans than the warmth o’ their wombs. We ain’t cattle to be kept for breeding. Let there be no mistake about me meanin’. Child bearin’ and rearin’ be a noble and honorable thing, perhaps the most, but it ain’t the be-all and end-all o’ the female spirit. If a female wants to have a dozen children, more power to her. But what if it ain’t what she was meant for? How much have the clans lost because females weren’t allowed to discover their gifts?”

Raene pointed at the dwarf who had first spoken out. “Ye said that dwarves treat their females like goddesses. I agree with you. Like a prize we are kept locked away from the sun, deep in our mountain homes. We be coveted and greedily kept like a prized diamond that never sees the light o’ day. Good dwarves, this ain’t the way to be treatin’ yer mothers, yer sisters, or yer daughters. Do ye think that we don’t want to travel the wider world, work the mines and pull from the earth its treasures? Look to the females beside ye, look into their eyes. What be the truth that ye see in there?”

The dwarfs regarded their wives, mothers, and daughters. In recognition of their hypocrisy, many of the males bowed their heads shamefully.

“Never have truer words been spoken in this chamber!” said Dwellan. “I hereby second Raene Goldenheart’s decree. Let it be known that from now until the end o’ time, women o’ Ky’Dren be havin’ the same rights and privileges as men. So says I, King Dwellan, son o’ Ky’Ell o’ the Ky’Dren Mountains.”

Raene turned from the podium with a wide smile and the giant golden heart pressing against her bosom. Fior, Roakore, Helzendar, and the many elders saluted her as she passed.

In the room behind the stage she let out a long pent-up breath and clutched her chest, panting. She felt as though she had slain a fire-breathing dragon.

Raene could hardly believe what she had done. It almost didn’t seem real.

Dwellan walked into the large room then, and she flung herself at him, hugging him tight.

“Thank ye, thank ye. A million times I thank ye!” said Raene, kissing his cheeks in turn.

“It was nothin’ I did,” said Dwellan with a laugh. “Ye deserve the goldenheart, and ye had a right to make the law.”

“I’ve misjudged ye, brother. I never thought that ye shared me sentiments in this regard.”

“To tell ye the truth, I’m not sure that I did, not until ye spoke and convinced me. Ye spoke the truth tonight. It will no doubt be a slow and rocky transition. I believe that in the end the mountains shall be better for it.”

“I must admit that I agree,” said Roakore as he walked in with Helzendar.

“Me cousin,” said Raene, facing him. “Does this mean that ye will pass the same law in Ro’Sar?”

“Hey now,” said Roakore defensively. “Don’t be gettin’ ahead o’ yerself. Let’s we be seein’ how things go here first.”

“There be no denying how things are goin’ to go,” said Raene. “Ye saw the looks on the faces o’ those lasses. This idea is goin’ to spread like creepers up the side o’ the mountain. If ye stood up for it now, it would help the process along greatly.”

“Perhaps that be true,” said Roakore. “But enough o’ this speculation. Too much after such excitement I say. Let us have a proper celebration. It be long overdue, I be sayin’.”

“I second that decree,” said Dwellan. “Tap the kegs and let the spirits flow. For this be a time for celebration!”