The Hammer of Fire (24 page)

Another hour or so saw him back to the tent
city which now bustled with energy as men and woman went about
their daily business. While some of their behavior baffled him
completely he did recognize much of the domestic work of washing,
cleaning, gathering water, and emptying chamber pots as common to
his own people. His arrival on the opposite side of the city meant
that he was confused as to his location but he simply hugged the
shore line until he got back to the spot where he first found the
lake. He took another quick bath and then headed into the tents to
see if he could find his way back to their temporary home. He got
lost two times, although each proved fortuitous in its own way as
he found a little stand that served the most delicious meat pies
and another tent where he had a glass of the sweet nomadic beer.
Each time he paid for the items with a few of the silver coins he
obtained back in Das’von in exchange for their heavy gold coins.
The nomads seemed to understand the value of gold and silver and
honestly returned him the proper change, or at least he assumed as
much. His escort accompanied him quietly; never threatening but not
helping in any fashion either.

Eventually he arrived back at their tent with
a significantly better understanding of the strange city. He found
Dol still sleeping after his long night of watch with the Hammer of
Fire safely ensconced at his side. Brogus looked all around the
tent carefully, attempting to spot any hidden compartments where a
spy might lurk and then lifted the outside flap and noted that the
nomad who escorted him around the lake was gone. He then turned
back to the interior of the tent and began a much more thorough
inventory of its contents and layout. It only took him about twenty
minutes to do so and just as he finished a little tinkling sound
from outside alerted him to the presence of someone at the flap. He
walked over to the entrance, stuck his head outside, and spotted
Manetho standing there with a large grin on his face. “You’ve been
exploring?”

Brogus nodded his head which seemed much
clearer after his brisk walk. “Yes, it is an interesting type of
city. I’ve never seen anything like it in the north.”

“We move the entire city at least four times
a year, more in cases of emergency,” replied the nomad with a shrug
of his shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind that we’ve provided you
with an escort. It’s easy to get lost and if you walked into the
tent of women you might have aroused a great deal of anger.”

Brogus nodded his head and smiled at the
pleasant thought, “That makes sense.”

“We have some customs here in the Sands that
you might not fully understand and I would not want an unfortunate
incident marring your stay with us. Sheikh Ming agrees. I do hope
you enjoyed your little trip around the lake?”

“I did,” said Brogus with a smile and a
glance back towards the shoreline although the tent’s exterior
walls blocked the view. “I also found a few of your delicacies for
sale when I explored the camp. It is strange but not that different
than my own home.”

“Where did you say you were from again?”
asked Manetho with a smile as his eyes darted back and forth from
Brogus to the city that surrounded them.

“A boring little city of dwarves in the
north,” said Brogus with a glance back inside the tent where he
knew Dol slept. “You said something about a dwarf citadel nearby.
Have you ever visited it?”

Manetho shook his head, “The desert between
the Black Horsemen and the dwarf city of Temin has a number of
tribes hostile to us. We raid upon Temin now and again and steal
fine iron weapons crafted by the dwarves but I have never visited
the nation itself. It is said to be entirely underground, in the
mountain. I cannot imagine such a life away from sun, sand, and
wind. It is not in the nature of a nomad to sleep without stars
overhead.”

“So you’ve never seen a dwarf before us?”

“No, not at all,” said Manetho with a shake
of his head and a broad smile. “Dwarf caravans are allowed passage
through the desert if they pay part of their goods to the various
tribal boundaries they cross. We are on relatively good terms with
the dwarves of Temin and they provide us with many of our weapons
and horseshoes. They are wizards with iron and steel. The desert
provides sustenance for many of the needs of a warrior nomad but
iron is in short supply.”

“Are there no hills in all the sands? No
rocky outcroppings?”

“Such places are not uncommon,” said Manetho
as he ran his fingers along his bald head. “Even here in the
territories of the Black Horsemen, but we nomads do not like to
linger long in one place. It is in our nature to roam, to ride, and
to slay our enemies. No foreign army has ever conquered the
nomads.”

“I believe you,” said Brogus and nodded his
own head with his lips pressed tightly together. “I can’t imagine
the difficulty of an invasion of this desert. But surely with
constant war between you and the other nomads there must be changes
in territory?”

“Oh yes,” said Manetho and smiled broadly.
“It must be the same with you in your underground warrens as well.
The darklings I think you called them. Your armies must take land
from them and they fight to take it back. It is an endless dance. A
way to train warriors.”

“I’m a metal smith apprentice,” said Brogus
with a shrug of his shoulders. “I know little of the way of war
although there are warriors among my people. The darklings attack
often. They need prisoners for sacrifice to their evil gods.”

“What are you two talking about,” said Dol as
he suddenly appeared at the tent flap, his eyes still slightly
groggy from his sleep.

“I’m glad you are up,” said Manetho with a
look at the tall dwarf, his raised eyes spotting a fresh apple
blossoming bright green and no bigger than a marble used by the
children to play their gambling games. “I see that you did not lie
about your heritage,” went on the nomad wizard and pointed towards
Dol’s hair.

Dol’s hand went to the apple immediately; he
took it between his finger and thumb, gave a swift yank, grimaced,
and then examined it closely. It was typical of the little sour
apples that had plagued his life since adolescence. “I had hoped
that the desert climate would kill the things once and for all,” he
said with a frown on his face as he examined it.

“Might I see it?” said Manetho his eyes
gazing towards the little fruit with a look of eagerness. “I’ve
never heard of a cross between a tree shepherd and a dwarf. I
wonder if it has any magical properties. There is certainly
enchantment about it.”

Dol shrugged and handed over the apple, “Why
are you glad to see me awake?”

Manetho turned the thing over in his hand a
few times with his eyes locked on it. After a few seconds of
silence he looked up at Dol who had the look of someone waiting for
an answer on his face, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Why did you come to visit us this morning?”
said Dol quietly but somehow with menace.

“Ah, yes,” said the wizard, oblivious to the
bubbling anger, and again looked down at the little apple in his
hand. “This is fascinating, most interesting indeed. Can I keep it?
Perform a few experiments?”

Dol nodded his head but said nothing.

“That is most generous of you,” said Manetho
gazing at the little apple. “Most generous indeed.”

“Your visit?” said Dol with a slight hint of
impatient in his voice.

“Oh, yes, I’m here to invite you to ride with
the Black Rider. He is leaving the city for a meeting with one of
the other tribes. He wishes to speak with you and your friends
further about this northern general and his plans of conquest. I
tried to explain that you were merely visitors to our region but
the Black Rider has the fate of our people in his hands and you
must understand his desire for further information. Perhaps you
learned something that might be useful to my people and you don’t
even realize it.”

“I don’t like riding,” said Brogus, eyes wide
with fear and mouth agape. “Those horses are dangerous.”

“You will accompany the Black Rider,” said
Manetho with a shake of his head. “It is considered quite an honor.
He is very busy man these days with our many alliances. I’d guess
he wants the chance to talk with you as soon as possible. This
meeting with the Jagged Edge nomads was scheduled many months ago
and cannot be delayed.”

“How does he ride during the day?” said Dol
his eyes carefully looking to judge the bald nomad’s reaction. “He
is a darkling and they have a notorious weakness to direct
sunlight.”

“He has special gear that covers him from
head to toe to keep off the sunlight,” said Manetho, still swirling
the apple in his hand. “But there is no time for me to explain. We
must gather the women and get you mounted on your horses for the
journey.” With that statement the nomad put the little apple in one
of his many pockets and immediately walked off at a brisk pace. Dol
and Brogus were left to follow behind.

It took them merely five minutes to get to
the tent where the girls awaited them. Milli’s face broke into a
huge smile as she saw their approach, and she rushed over to give
Dol a big hug. “Have you heard? We get to ride again. Isn’t that
grand?”

“No,” said Brogus with a frown as he watched
Milli’s obvious delight with incomprehension. “I’d rather stay
here.”

“I think that might be possible,” said the
quiet voice of Tahnoon as the massively fat nomad appeared from
around the corner of the tent with a broad smile. “I enjoyed our
conversation greatly yesterday evening and I’d like to renew it
today while the others are away. The meeting with the Jagged Edge
nomad shouldn’t take more than a day or two, and I don’t think your
companions would suffer too great a hurt if you were to stay here
in the encampment.”

“That sounds great …,” started Brogus but
Milli immediately interposed her little body between the two.

“No,” she said and shook her head vigorously.
“We stay together. Besides, Sheikh Ming might have some questions
only Brogus can answer. He knows the most about the army.”

“I do not,” said Brogus and frowned. “I’m
just ….

“Shut up, Brogus,” interrupted Milli as she
gave him an elbow to the ribs. “We stay together.”

Brogus lowered his head and muttered
something under his breath but said no more aloud.

“Well, that’s settled then,” said Manetho
with a turn towards Tahnoon, “I hope you’ll have a chance to talk
with Tahnoon when you return but, who knows, we might be ready to
send you along to your destination if the Black Rider signals his
approval. I wish you could stay at least until I finish my
experiments,” he continued as his hand went to his pocket and he
fingered the round apple within.

“Experiments?” asked Milli and turned to the
bald nomad.

“You’re friend was kind enough to loan me one
of the apples that grow in his hair,” said Manetho. “Actually,” he
looked more closely at the tall dwarf, “he actually seems to have
sprouted a bumper crop. Perhaps it is life-giving blessing of Ras
shining down in such abundance?”

Dol’s hand went to his hair and he felt half
a dozen or more of the little round apples in various states of
growth.

“You are really sprouting,” said Milli with a
smile as she watched her friend. “It’s probably the change in
climate or something,” she continued and put her arm around his
waist. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Come along, I’ll take you to the horses,”
said Manetho with another bow.

“Do we get the same ones as before?” said
Milli, her eyes darting back and forth looking for the horses.

“Of course,” said Tahnoon. “They are fine
geldings, bred especially for visitors.”

“What’s a gelding,” said Brogus with a
puzzled expression on his face at the unfamiliar word. Usually the
translator device worked flawlessly.

“A male horse than cannot breed,” replied the
nomad. “They are more docile and if a stranger should ever steal
one then the bloodline cannot be taken to our enemies.”

“Your horses are that much superior to the
other nomad’s steeds?” asked Petra her eyes keen to watch the
nomad’s reactions.

Tahnoon thought for a moment with his hand on
his fat belly and then nodded his head, “Not other nomads so much
as people outside the desert who want our horses for their own.
Kings and princes and military leaders from many nations. Our
horses are coveted by all who know them and I would imagine
Corancil himself wouldn’t mind getting his hands on a few score to
help his invasion plans.”

Petra smiled, “I would imagine so.”

“Here we are,” said Tahnoon as they arrived
at an area well to the north of the main encampment where dozens of
nomads watched over an open patch of well trampled dirt and
scrabbly grass where dozens of horses galloped and played. He
shouted something towards the nomads and within a few minutes the
group found themselves reunited with their steeds from their
earlier ride across the desert. “Manetho and I will ride with you
out to the Broken Pyramid and there you will meet the Black Rider
and discuss matters. After that he will continue his journey to the
conference with the Jagged Edge nomads.”

“The Broken Pyramid,” said Milli as she
stroked the long, muscled neck of her horse. “What’s that?”

Manetho and Tahnoon mounted their own horses
and the group, Brogus with a leg up from another nomad, mounted
theirs as well, “A pyramid not far from here that dates back to the
Age of Elementals. We often use it as a rallying point. There are
not that many landmarks here in the desert and such places are
useful for gathering men,” said Manetho with a flourishing wave of
his hand out towards the desert.

“The Age of Elementals,” said Dol, now
suddenly quite interested as he used his reins to turn the horse
and face Manetho. “What do you know about that time?”