The Hammer of Fire (21 page)

“You are a powerful rider,” he shouted at
Dol.

Dol took a second to glance over at the nomad
and nod his head before he returned his attention to the powerful
beast. Manetho watched the struggle closely. The horse knew the
rider was inexperienced and tried its best to take control of the
situation but Dol kept a firm hand on the reins and refused to give
the steed its head. After another mile of struggle the horse shook
its mane with a loud whinny and resumed the canter without protest.
Within another minute the multi-colored tents became visible and
the wizard took them towards the densest cluster.

When they arrived a few minutes later they
found the other three companions and their nomadic escort standing
near a group of tall tents which had various horse symbols painted
on them. One was a horseshoe, another the anvil and tongs of a
blacksmith, and there were other symbols that Dol did not
recognize. Petra and Brogus stood on the ground with their hands on
visibly quaking knees while Milli waited for them literally
bouncing up and down in excitement, “Wasn’t that great!” Then she
ran over to her horse and gave it a hug, her little body not even
coming up to the chest of the creature. “I love you!”

“Horses often have a profound effect on young
women,” said Manetho to no one in particular as he smiled
indulgently at Milli. She did not notice.

“Wasn’t that incredible!” asked Milli again.
Brogus, still bent over, waved his hand at her but Petra managed a
weak smile and a nod of her head. “Dol, wasn’t that fun?” asked the
girl as she came over and grabbed him by the hand. “Did you ever
dream of anything like that?”

Dol raised his eyebrow at the girl but could
not help the small smile that came across his face. “It was
exhilarating,” he finally admitted.

Brogus, slightly recovered, looked at the
beasts and shook his head, “I wonder what it would be like to take
a few back … home. I’m not sure they would thrive underground but
the speed at which an army could attack ….”

“Come now,” said Manetho. “The Black Rider
awaits us in his tent.” He made a motion with his hand to the other
nomad and the man began to gather the horses.

“Where are you taking him?” said Milli her
eyes wide and she went back over to her horse and began to stroke
its flank.

“He will be well taken care of,” said Manetho
as he nodded his head and smiled broadly. “There is little in the
world a Black Horseman values more than his horse.”

“Can I visit him?” said Milli continuing to
stroke the animal.

“Of course,” said the nomadic wizard, “I must
warn you that he is not yours. He merely served as your steed for a
short time. His real owner will want a fair price for him.”

Milli looked down at the rings on her finger
and smiled, “I think I can afford him.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” said the nomad
with a smile. “Do not embark upon a negotiation without consulting
me first. You are my guest and I would not want you to be taken
advantage of.”

“I usually get a good deal,” said Milli with
a smile as she flipped her hair back. “I know the art of
negotiation.”

Manetho laughed, “Indeed, and Black Horsemen
are as susceptible to the wiles of a pretty woman as anyone else in
the world I would imagine. Still, consult with me first. And now,
we must head to the Black Rider’s tent. He awaits us and he is not
a patient man.”

The four visitors followed Manetho through
the maze of tents that made up the encampment. At every turn
strangely dressed nomadic men, women, and children, turned to stare
at the group as they passed. A dark skinned woman in a shimmering
gold and green gown that exposed her midsection flashed past and
Brogus was so enthralled he completely lost track of the others. If
Milli hadn’t noticed, gone back, and grabbed him by the hand, he
might never have found his way to the leader’s tent.

“Did you see her?” said Brogus with a
lopsided grin on his wide jawed face.

“Yes, I saw her,” said Milli rolling her eyes
and shaking her head. She noticed that the normally implacable Dol
also watched as the woman walked away, her hips moving
enticingly.

“Va va voom!” said Brogus with a curvy motion
of his hands. “They don’t make them like that in Cr … back
home.”

Milli put her hands on her hips, raised her
eyebrows and said, “They don’t?”

“I didn’t mean you,” said Brogus as his eyes
went wide. “What I was saying is that dwarf girls ….”

“Go on,” said Milli her hands still on her
hips.

“Shouldn’t we catch up with everyone else,”
said Brogus as inspiration suddenly came to him. “We don’t want to
get lost. There they go!” he concluded and pointed to Dol who was
just disappearing behind an orange tent with half a dozen blue and
gold ribbons hanging from the front. A small group of nomads,
drinking something from tiny little cups and jabbering in their
strange language watched as they rushed past to catch up. “Hello,
hello,” said Brogus. “Nice to meet you, must be going.”

“You’re an idiot,” said Milli as they caught
up to Dol and the others.

“Now,” said Manetho as they came to a large,
black tent. It was easily twice the size of those around it and
made up of a heavy cloth material that completely blocked the
brilliant sunlight. “This is the tent of the Black Rider. You are
my guests so your behavior reflects upon me.”

“It must be hot in there,” said Brogus and
fingered the heavy material that made up the outside of the
structure.

A tall nomad stood at the entrance to the
tent and looked down at the dwarf with a sneer on his face. His
hand went to the hilt of his curved sword and rested there gently
although he said nothing.

“We are here to see the Sheikh,” said Manetho
to the man and stared him directly in the eye. The warrior bowed
his head slightly and motioned to the interior of the tent with
gesture of his left hand. The right remained on the hilt of his
sword.

“The Sheikh?” said Petra.

“That is the title he prefers. Sheikh Ming
the First,” said Manthos cooly. “Now come, he is not a patient man
as I have said.”

“I thought he was the Black Rider,” whispered
Brogus to Milli. The girl shrugged her shoulder, “Shut up, and
don’t say anything when we’re inside. Let me and Dol do the
talking.”

“That’s not fair,” said Brogus, “besides, I’m
the only true blood dwarf in the group. I speak for my people more
than you or Dol.”

“Shut up,” hissed Milli as they made their
way through the folds in the fabric and suddenly emerged into a
spacious chamber where food and drink were laid out on a number of
tables that sat flat on the ground. “This isn’t a trade
negotiation; this is us trying to get to the five volcanoes so that
Dol can complete his mission.”

“You shut up,” said Brogus in an attempt at a
whisper that carried across the tent to where a darkling sat in a
chair behind a wooden desk. He looked up with strange purple eyes
and Brogus’s hand immediately went to the axe at his side while Dol
grabbed the handle of the Hammer of Fire.

“Your people and mine have had their
differences in the past,” said the darkling behind the desk with a
quiet voice. His face was calm and he glanced back down at the
papers in front of him before he continued. “I’m told you’ve
journeyed far.”

“Hello, Black Rider,” said Brogus.

Milli elbowed him in the side, “Greetings,
Sheikh Ming, we are travelers from afar but we ended up here
unintentionally. We wanted to be in the five volcano region.”

“Greetings,” said the darkling. “As I said,
your people, the dour miners, the dwarves, and my people, the
darklings, have had many … difficulties over the years. I hope you
will not hold me personally responsible for these troubles.”

Dol released his grip on the handle of the
hammer but Brogus kept his hand on the hilt of his axe. “I have
battled darklings of all shapes and sizes,” said Brogus and ignored
Milli who stomped on his foot. “They make slaves of my friends,
kill my brothers,” he continued and his eyes suddenly blazed with
anger.

“That they do,” came the voice of a rotund
man as he ambled into the room from some hidden chamber in the
folds of silk that seemed to fall down all around them. “However,
this particular darkling came to me all but dead after an encounter
with his own kind. I’ve found, after years of mutual acquaintance
that he is a reasonable man and you would be wise to listen to his
advice.”

“We’re listening,” said Milli with a glare at
her companion. “Behave yourself, Brogus. We’re guests. We represent
Manetho.”

Brogus pulled his arm away from Milli and
glared across the divide at the darkling although his gaze shifted
back and forth to the fat newcomer as well.

“You come from the north,” said Ming his face
expressionless as he dabbed at another piece of parchment with his
quill. “There are armies gathering to the north and I would like to
learn of them. In exchange I might be able to help you travel to
this volcanic region of which you speak.”

“That sounds fair,” said Milli with a wide
smile as she tilted her head slightly to the side and pushed her
breasts up towards the darkling.

“So, you ended up here accidently,” said the
fat man with too broad a smile.

“Tahnoon,” interrupted the Black Rider, “Our
guests have just arrived after days of difficult travel. Their skin
is not accustomed to the heat of the desert. Let them sit, eat,
drink, and enjoy themselves before we confront them with
accusations.”

Tahnoon frowned and a sour expression came
across his face, “As you will, Ming. As you will. Honored guests,
please, partake of the food and drink. I wish you health and
happiness.”

“Thank you,” said Milli with a little curtsy
that seemed to puzzle Ming, Tahnoon, and Manetho who looked at one
another but said nothing.

Brogus flumped down on the floor while trying
to keep his hand on the hilt of his axe and almost fell over
sideways as he lost his balance. Dol sat down carefully, making
sure to keep the head of the hammer resting on the thick leather
strap that kept it from rubbing against him. There had been several
incidents in the first weeks of travel where the hammer rested
against combustible materials for too long and started to smoke. So
far no fires were the result of the carelessness but he took more
care now. Milli sat down daintily on a little cushion and reached
out to one of the clay pitchers and hesitated before pouring
herself a glass.

“That is a fruit tea,” said Manetho, “not too
dissimilar from what we had at our first meeting but perhaps with
more of a crisp and sweet flavor.”

Milli smiled broadly and poured herself half
a cup while Manetho, Ming, and Tahnoon made their way to the table.
Petra also sat down and completed the table which was apparently
set with seven in mind. Tahnoon clapped his hands and half a dozen
rather scantily clad young women instantly appeared, although from
where remained a mystery, and began to serve the food and
drink.

“I must apologize for my rude friend,” said
Ming with a motion to Tahnoon. “Tahnoon is concerned about the
security of my realm. The news of armies gathering in the north has
him somewhat jittery. I am Sheikh Ming and you already know
Manetho, a wizard of my court. It is fortunate he was with the
patrol that encountered you or I’m afraid the language barrier
might have caused confusion and possibly ended in violence.”

“I am Milli, this angry fellow is Brogus,
this is Dol, and this is Petra. Thank you for sharing your tent
with us. It was indeed a long and hot journey. We did not come to
your lands prepared for the terrible heat of your desert.”

Petra spoke for the first time as she looked
carefully around the tent for magical totems. If any lurked, hidden
in the folds of silk, she could not spot them but the place had the
whiff of powerful magic about it, “How is it that we can all
understand one another here? Is there some enchantment on the tent
itself?”

Tahnoon bellowed out a laugh, “The witches of
the north are as perceptive as those of the south. Yes, this tent
is a meeting place for the many nomadic tribes that roam the
desert. Of late we’ve had many meetings with the other tribes
….”

Ming stopped further discourse with a look at
the rotund fellow who stopped in mid-sentence. “I’m terribly sorry,
great lord. I did not mean to speak out of place.”

“It is no secret that we’ve had meetings with
the other nomads of the Sands,” said Ming with a shrug of his
shoulders. “You’ve given away no state secrets but in the future
you should drink less and talk the same.”

“As you will,” he said and managed to somehow
bow from his seated position. “You are most perceptive, Petra was
the name?”

“Yes, and you are Tahnoon?” said the witch
with a smile at the fat fellow.

The fat man nodded his head as he quaffed a
generous amount of red liquid that he poured himself from a tall
glass decanter a moment before. “I am Tahnoon the fat,” he said
with a laugh as a little dribble of the red liquid leaked from the
corner of his mouth. “Would you care for some Bloodreaver Red?” he
asked and waved the decanter at the group. “The Bloodreavers were a
powerful nomadic tribe that used to patrol the territories to our
north. That was before Sheikh Ming began to organize our
fighters.”

“I’ll have a glass,” said Brogus although he
still wore a suspicious look on his face. “You don’t have any beer
by any chance?”

“We brew a sweet malt here in the desert,
from a particular plant, but it is not to the taste of all.” said
Tahnoon and he clapped his hands again, “It comes from a flowering
plant called Agava.”

A moment later a girl came out with a heavy
pitcher and another carried several thick metal mugs that bore the
stamp of a hammer superimposed upon a mountain.