"Rumhold," said Birger. "Why have you come?"

"To stop you from making a terrible mistake. I knew where you would go the moment I saw you leaving the manor. You're not the only dwarf who knows the secrets of the mountains."

"So you would support King Halvar's decision to a.s.sa.s.sinate an innocent?" Birger challenged.

"Innocent?" Rumhold scoffed. "He brings with him certain death for us all. The council members who refuse to see this are fools. They should trust in our king's wisdom."

"There is no wisdom in murder. And the king has no right to do this. There is a reason why we have a council. To prevent a king from falling from grace when his mind becomes clouded."

"It is not the king's mind that is clouded. He sees quite clearly what this false hope will bring down upon our heads. I implore you to turn back, Birger. I will say that you had a change of heart. Leave the humans to me. I'll deliver them to the king's guards."

"I think you may find it's not so easy to take us," cut in Markus. His tone was dark and dangerous. "Unless you have an army behind you, we'll be leaving now."

Rumhold drew a short wand from his belt. "I don't need an army, human. So unless your sword can halt a bolt of lightning, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

"Leave this to me," said Birger.

"So you would fight me?" A heavy frown creased Rumhold's face. "For the sake of these humans you would bear arms against your own kind? Against a friend?"

"No," he replied sadly. "I would do it for the sake of our people's honor."

"Honor will not save us from Shinzan."

"You're wrong. In the end, honor is the only thing that will save us."

Putting away the wand, Rumhold gripped his axe with both hands. "So be it."

Birger crouched and broadened his stance. Ethan could see the muscles in his powerful arms quivering with tension, ready to burst into life.

With uncanny speed, Rumhold charged in, swinging his axe upwards from the hip. Birger spun left, easily avoiding the blow and brought his own much lighter weapon down in a deadly backhanded strike. Rumhold only just managed to dive away in time, rolling and instantly regaining his feet.

Rumhold nodded approvingly. "You've practiced." Without waiting for a reply, he feigned right and then stepped left, thrusting the axe head at Birger's midsection.

Birger swatted the heavier blade down and jumped back, poised to parry. But Rumhold had already matched his movement and was striking at his legs in a tight arc. Birger tried to evade this, but the tip of the blade slashed across his left thigh. In a wild flurry of strikes, he drove his opponent back, then limped out of range. Blood was pouring from the wound and soaking the leg of his pants.

"Don't make me kill you," said Rumhold.

Birger glanced down at his injured leg and spat. "I'm not beaten yet, my friend."

Ignoring the handicap and pain of his wound, he let out a feral roar and ran headlong at Rumhold who, caught off-guard by this unexpected display of aggression, could only raise his weapon and block a series of blows with the flat of his blade. Birger drove him back several paces before planting his boot hard into Rumhold's chest. A human would have been sent sprawling, but Rumhold's st.u.r.dy legs and low center of gravity kept him on his feet.

Birger advanced again, pressing his advantage. In another hail of strikes he managed to open a deep gash in Rumhold's right shoulder. Clutching at his wound, the dwarf dropped to one knee.

Seeing an opportunity to finish it, Birger moved in. But the instant he came within striking distance, he realized his mistake. It was a ruse. Rumhold rolled right and jerked the handle of his axe up hard. It thudded flush against Birger's jaw.

With legs wobbling, Birger staggered back. Rumhold sprang up and swung at his neck. Birger ducked, but not quite low enough. The ma.s.sive blade swept above his head, shaving a thin layer of skin from his scalp in the process.

Desperate to get at close quarters, Birger ran in and wrapped his arms around his opponent's waist. Rumhold smashed the axe handle into his back three times before Birger was able to lift him from his feet and tackle him to the ground.

Scrambling forward onto Rumhold's chest, he raised his axe. But before he could strike, Rumhold gave a desperate heave, forcing Birger to drop both hands behind him and push hard into the ground in order to prevent himself from toppling back. Once steady, he then squeezed his legs tight around Rumhold's torso and regained his position.

Rumhold tried to lift his weapon, but it was too long and bulky to be of much use. Now in total control, Birger raised his small axe again, but after hesitating for a moment, tossed it aside. Instead, he produced a short dagger from his belt and pressed the blade to his opponent's throat.

As the steel touched his flesh, Rumhold ceased to struggle. "You've won, my friend. Now finish it."

Birger shook his head. "Just go back. Tell the king what has happened. Tell him I'm a traitor if you must. But leave."

"You know I can't do that. If you release me I will be forced to take up my axe and try again." He locked eyes with Birger. "You must choose between us."

With conflict and indecision contorting his face, Birger glanced briefly over to Ethan and the others. No one said a word.

Once again he gazed down at his helpless friend. "Forgive me," he whispered, moving the blade away from the dwarf's throat and instead placing it directly over his heart.

"You will doom us all," said Rumhold. His voice was clear and without a hint of fear.

"I pray you are wrong."

Birger plunged the dagger hard down. Rumhold gasped and clutched at his sleeves, but after only a few seconds went limp.

For a long moment Birger lay motionless on top of Rumhold's body. Eventually, he rolled to one side and onto his back.

Ethan started toward him, but Jonas caught his arm.

"Give him a moment."

The dwarf clambered to his knees and placed his head on Rumhold's lifeless body. He remained like this for several minutes, his body shaking from a series of great sobs. Finally, he sat up and struggled to his feet. The tears on his face had mingled with blood from the wound to his scalp, creating a grotesque kind of war paint. His pants and boots were completely saturated.

"Are you all right?" asked Ethan, knowing full well what a d.a.m.n fool question that was.

Birger blinked at him. "I've known Rumhold since I was a small child. My father was one of his first teachers. That I was forced to take his life has broken my heart. But he left me with no other choice. I will have to find a way to live with what I have done."

"Can you continue?" asked Jonas.

He nodded. "My injuries are not as bad as they might seem." Hobbling over to his pack, he retrieved a small phial of green liquid and poured a few drops of this over each of his wounds. Once finished, he tossed the phial over to Ethan. "You may need this. It will heal minor cuts and sc.r.a.pes in hours."

Ethan thanked him and stuffed it inside his pack.

"We should go quickly," Birger told them. He picked up his axe and attached it to his belt. "The fight may have attracted attention."

As he stepped toward the entrance to the tunnel, Jonas cleared his throat.

"I don't want to be indelicate," he said. "But are you going to leave your dagger behind?"

Birger glanced back at the body of his dead friend. "When they find him, my dagger's presence will tell them it was I who killed Rumhold...not one of you. If there is to be any hope, it cannot be believed that you have spilled dwarf blood."

"I understand," remarked Jonas thoughtfully.

"I'm truly sorry about your friend," said Ethan.

Birger frowned at him. "I am a murderer of my own kind now. I just hope that my crime is worth it."

His words struck Ethan to his core. He felt as if a ma.s.sive burden had been dropped onto his shoulders. It was one thing to talk about fighting evil and self-sacrifice. But Birger had showed him the true meaning of sacrifice. He suddenly longed to disappear completely, and found that he could not bear to look at the dwarf...not even for a moment.

Silently, they walked to the tunnel.

Once through the narrow entrance, the path widened considerably. However, unlike the pa.s.sages that had brought them to Elyfoss, this one was unlit. Birger produced a silver rod with a round green stone on one end. He held this aloft. Light immediately began emanating from its core, illuminating the way.

"Interesting torch you have there," said Markus.

"A toy," remarked Birger. "Nothing more."

"Useful though," said Jonas.

"We won't need it by tomorrow," he told them. "The tunnels are lit by shantara stone."

Jonas raised an eyebrow. "Really? How do your people dig through it?"

"Such things are no challenge for us," he replied. "Our tools are far superior to anything you humans possess."

"What's shantara stone?" asked Ethan.

"It's like a diamond," answered Markus. "Only it glows. Hardly anything can break it. You won't see it much in Lumnia, mainly because it doesn't come in small pieces. You have to cut it from much larger rocks. Most mines can't even lift them from the ground, let alone cut pieces off. And as for digging tunnels through the stuff...forget it."

"You have some experience in mining?" asked Birger.

"Some," Markus affirmed. "A long time ago when I first arrived."

"I thought most human miners were slaves."

"They are," said Markus.

Birger nodded with understanding. "Slavery is a dreadful practice. Dwarves would never do such a thing. Not even to a human."

"It wasn't always like that," Jonas said. "In the time of the mages, all people were free. Slavery was outlawed."

Birger picked up his pace. "Let us hope that those days will soon return."

Chapter Nineteen.

"Wake up, sweetheart. Time for breakfast."

Kat smiled at the thought of sausage and eggs. But she wasn't ready to open her eyes. Not just yet. The bed was too warm and soft.

"Please, mother," she whined, burying her face in the pillow. "Just a few more minutes."

"Wake up."

Kat groaned. "Just a little while longer. I'm still tired."

"Wake up, Kat."

Slowly, the dream faded. But another voice was now demanding her attention.

"Wake up, sleepy head."

Kat forced her eyes open. Lady Thora's granddaughters, Asta and Maile, were lying on either side of her, grinning and giggling.

Asta was the younger of the two, with a fair complexion and curly red hair. Her frame was nearly as thin as a human girls might be. By contrast, Maile was far stouter, with thick black hair and olive skin. Both girls were still in their nightgowns and caps.

"Come on, Kat," said Asta. "Breakfast is ready."

She covered her face with her hands. "I don't suppose there's any sausage and eggs, is there?"

Asta mimicked a retching sound. "Yuck!"

"How do you know, until you tried it?"

"No burned animal flesh for me, thanks," chipped in Maile.

Kat rolled on her side and pulled the blanket over her head.

"Get up," insisted Asta.

Kat shook her head defiantly.

At once, both girls began poking her sides and tickling her arms. Kat jerked and jostled in a useless attempt to fend them off.

"All right! All right! I'm up!" she said, finally yielding.

The girls slipped out of the bed and skipped across the room to the door.

"We'll meet you downstairs," Maile said. "Grandmother's already left, so she said we could play all day today."

Kat waited until she heard the door close before peeking her head out from beneath the covers. This had been the first night she had spent away from her friends since they'd left Miltino. She had protested at first, but Lady Thora pleaded with her, saying that her granddaughters had begged her to ask and would be extremely disappointed if she refused.

Her first thought now was to wonder if Ethan had noticed she hadn't returned to the manor. Getting out of bed, she stood in front of the dresser mirror, straightening her back and placing her hands on her hips.

"He's never going to notice you," she hissed angrily. "Not looking like this."

She ran her hands along her sides, longing to feel the curves of maturity, but experiencing only disappointment. A sudden urge to smash the mirror was only just resisted.

Feeling depressed, she removed a pair of pants and a shirt from the wardrobe. Hanging nearby was a lovely blue dress Lady Thora had made for her. But while she appreciated the gesture, Kat had no intention of wearing something that just hung there loosely off her shoulders. When Thora had first showed it to her she had said that it was a proper way for a young woman to dress. Even so, how women could stand to be in such things was beyond Kat.