Malden approached, and then stopped when he smelled the place. It must be where Herward lived, he thought, though it was also possible he used it as his privy. Maybe both. So you collect things?
Yes! Come see!
You dont collect your own droppings, though? Malden asked, just to be sure.
The hermit poked his head out through the empty doorway again. What are you talking about?
Your, ah-your Slag?
The dwarf dropped from the back of his colt with a thud. Hes asking if you save your own shit. To throw at folks, or some other barmy purpose.
Shit, Herward said, as if hed only heard the word once, many years before. Shit. Oh, no. I dont defecate.
That got Morgets attention. The barbarian had stopped just inside the gate, perhaps expecting a trap. Every man shits, he said.
Herward shrugs. I dont eat, you see. The Lady sustains me on black mead. No, I havent tasted food in nearly a year. So I dont defecate. I do urinate quite often. He gestured again. Now, please, come here!
Herward shrugs. I dont eat, you see. The Lady sustains me on black mead. No, I havent tasted food in nearly a year. So I dont defecate. I do urinate quite often. He gestured again. Now, please, come here!
Malden and Slag approached the doorway but didnt step inside. The room beyond was hard to see, but it must have been an arsenal at some point. Bundles of swords and spears filled all the available space. Suits of armor hung from the ceiling, as if knights of old were sleeping up there in net hammocks. The armor looked subtly wrong to Malden, until he realized that the breastplates were far too slender for a human rib cage, and the helmets too long.
Moreover, all of the weapons and armor gleamed like gold.
There was a battle here, long ago. The Elders fought a running retreat all the way to the entrance of the House of Chains, with the combined army of our king and all his bannermen hounding their heels. Many died on both sides. Now, so long hence, I still find their things here out among the rocks. When I find a good piece, I bring it back here to polish it and bang out the dents with a hammer. Herward squinted at them. Not sure why I do it. Maybe to help pass the time. Look at this.
He handed Malden a shortsword with a square tip. The blade was notched and quite dull, but had not rusted to pieces like an iron sword would. It didnt feel quite as heavy as hed expected, though.
Bronze, Slag said.
Are you sure? Malden asked. It had occurred to him that Herward had so many golden swords he might not notice if one went missing. Its not gold?
Im a fucking dwarf. I know my metals. Thats bronze.
Herward nodded happily. The Elders wouldnt touch iron. Supposedly it interfered with their magic. Everything they made was of copper or bronze or brass.
Malden made a pass through the air with the sword. Well, that explains how we were able to beat them, eh? We had iron weapons. Clearly superior.
Bronze is as strong as iron, and carries just as sharp an edge, Slag told him. Also-it never rusts. It gets a nice patina, but it never corrodes. You come back here in a thousand years, these swords will be just as strong.
There has to be something wrong with bronze, Malden pointed out, since we won with our iron.
Its more expensive, is your main downside.
Then we we won because we were our hearts were pure, or some such, Malden said, trying to remember old stories hed heard as a child. Because our cause was just?
You beat them by outbreeding them, Slag said. An elf lived near on a century, and never had more than one child. You lot bred like rats when you came over here.
Malden frowned. He wasnt sure what that meant. What do you mean, when we came over here? Weve always lived on this land.
Herward clucked his tongue.
Wrong again, Slag explained. A thousand years ago this whole country was covered in a thick forest, right? All those fields of wheat were so many trees. Nobody ever cut them down, so they grew thick. My people, the dwarves, lived under the ground, and we had no use for that much wood. The elves lived in the forest, aboveground. Then the humans came, from the south. First they were just explorers. Looking for new lands to name after themselves. The elves laughed at the idea, but they didnt drive you off, because they didnt know what was coming. We barely even knew you were here, because you didnt dig deep enough to disturb us. Should have paid more attention. It was missionaries, what came next. Then traders, and trappers, and then followed the fucking settlers. They had families that had to be fed. Every generation of humans chopped down more trees, to make more room for their fields. Finally the elves started noticing what you were doing to their homeland.
What happened then? Malden asked.
Slag flicked the sword with his fingers to make it ring, a high piercing note like two blades coming together. You werent the kind to leave peaceful like, not once you had your sodding big paws on a piece of earth. So it came down to you or the elves. This is where you finally wiped them out.
Malden looked out through the gates of the fort, at the entrance to the Vincularium on the opposite slope. Though he could read and write and do figures, hed never had any formal education. Certainly no one had ever told him this dark secret of his own history.
Chapter Twenty-five
Croy followed Cythera as she turned her horse up the ancient road that led up the mountain. He seems a pleasant enough fellow, he told her, because shed said she wanted to get away and talk about Herward.
Im sure hes harmless, she said. You should know, however, that he is not communing with your goddess.
Croy frowned. You doubt his sincerity?
I doubt his sanity. I know for a fact he didnt see us in a holy vision. You heard the way he described the Lady in his dream. It didnt sound familiar?
He described the Crone, which is one of the Ladys primary aspects. She might also have appeared as the Mother, or the Maiden. Why She chose one over the other is a mystery to me, but She rarely reveals her plans to us.
He was describing my mother, Cythera told him.
Croy shook his head. Now thats just silly-
My mother is a witch, Cythera said. As you know. Placing visions in the minds of lunatics is hardly stretching her powers. She must have sent him this vision the same day that we left Ness.
Its blasphemy to impersonate the Lady, Croy said. He thought of the witch, safe and comfortable in her lair in Ness, reaching across the world to cloud the minds of men, and he wanted to-well, he wasnt sure what he wanted to do. Certainly rushing back to the city to slay his prospective mother-in-law didnt feel like the kind of thing a noble knight would go in for. But surely there must be some retribution.
She was only trying to protect us. She wanted someone to watch over us. And Herward can definitely be of help. For instance, we cant very well take our horses inside the Vincularium. Someone needs to watch over them.
I had considered that, Croy said. I was hoping we could give you the task.
Cythera sighed. She stopped her horse in the middle of the road. I thought you might say that. Im sure youve spent this entire journey trying to think of ways to keep me from entering the tomb with you.
It wont be safe for a woman. Theres a demon in there.
Croy, I can take care of myself. Im not some helpless damsel to be locked away in a tower. She dismounted and rubbed her horses nose for a while, before dropping her reins to the ground. The palfrey was well trained, and knew that was the signal to stay put. She proceeded on foot, then, toward the massive gates of the Vincularium.
They were far more imposing from close up. The massive square pillars rose to dizzying heights above Croys head, and the chains between them proved so thick and solid that he could not begin to imagine how they had been forged. While rust pocked the surface of the iron, there was no doubt in his mind those chains would last another thousand years before they corroded away.
Behind the chains, recessed from the menhirs, stood a solid wall of enormous granite bricks, sealed with black mortar. The dwarven thorn rune-sign of death and destruction-had been carved deeply into each of the bricks, a warning to anyone who might try to unseal this massive portal.
Croy took a step closer and something crunched under his boot. He looked down and saw a scorched human skull staring up at him with empty eye sockets.
Cythera, dont look, he said. The bones could only distress her. He glanced around his feet and saw more bones there, some shattered, some black with soot. He saw bits of cloth and metal amidst the bones, but no swords or armor. Were these the remains of past grave robbers? And dont come closer. In fact, get back on your horse and ride back to the others. This isnt a good place.
She was already walking past him, however. These chains-what purpose do they serve? she asked.
What? Croy replied. He was trying to kick broken shards of bone off his foot. They held in the elves, of course.
No, they didnt. She was dangerously close to the entrance. They attach to nothing but the columns. They do not brace the seal, or even touch it. Theyre just strung across the gate, so that anyone trying to enter must duck underneath them. Yet that could hardly slow down an elfin warrior.
Wait, Croy shouted as she ducked to look under the chains. Dont-
He rushed toward her, but as he came close to the lowest chain he felt a sudden, searing pain in his head. Sweat burst across his back and he felt dizzy. The whole world started to spin. He reached out to steady himself, hand up to grab the chain above him, when he felt Cytheras hands push against his chest and he went sprawling backward.
The heat and disorientation left him instantly, though he was already overbalanced and fell to clatter among the bones.
Theyre cursed, Cythera said. The chains are charged with magical power-Croy, get away, quickly. There are currents in the ether here, wild eddies, and I can feel the puissance growing-its going to discharge!
Croy desperately wanted to get up and run. Yet he could never leave Cythera there, alone and defenseless. He struggled to his feet and lurched forward, intending to grab her. He saw terror streak across her face and was certain they were both about to die.