“It is those spears, and this dragon, that we must discuss. Noble king, great dragon, I come to you with a vision.”
“I listen,” Unrush said.
“It is for the ears of the Umazheh. Will the human understand?”
“She does not know our speech,” AuRon said. “She is a decoration. No more.”
Staretz planted his palms on the mat and leaned forward resting on his long arms like an ape god in the south. “There is confusion among our old enemies. They have grown rich, and in being rich think they deserve this, that it has always been so and will always be so. With wealth comes softness—the best money-pilers rise and breed more like themselves—while the strong and brave wither away. We, on the other hand, we of the wastes, of the mountains, of the frosts, snows, and swamps, we have grown hard in our exile far from the fallow lands.
“What was stolen from us will be returned. The nameless gods promised us our reward after long suffering.”
“I have heard those tales, too,” Unrush said. “ ‘That the skies would fill with fire, that the seas would boil, that rock would melt away like ice in the summer sun.’ None of this has passed.”
“I have seen it. I saw it in the north, at the edges of the Hardgrounds, the dwarvish city of Kell. The Varvar joined with my people and destroyed it, three years ago. I watched a glacier melt, the skies burn, and the battlements dissolve when the UnderKell was drowned. Since then I have gone from tribe to tribe, telling my tale that the days of doom have come, and our reward and return from exile is here.”
AuRon’s sii furrowed the ground. “What melted the glacier? Fire from the sky? How was this done?”
“You would know best, young dragon,” Staretz chuckled.
“A legion of chieftains gather, each with their legion of spears behind. We will roll like a wave westward, and again all the lands between the cloud peaks and the great East will be ours. As it was in the days of Great Uldam. We will not fail. Will you join our numbers and earn your reward?”
To his credit, Unrush leapt to his feet and roar out his agreement, though he trembled. AuRon knew his blood pulsed with hopes of battle and glory, but he had his people to consider.
“I must consult,” Unrush said.
“Consult?” Staretz laughed. “Ha! Great kings are not made by consultation. They are made by decision.”
“He must consult with me,” AuRon said. “I am his liege lord, and if he wishes me to be at the head of the fireblades, we must speak alone.”
“Time runs short,” Staretz said. “I leave Balazeh and Korutz to hear your answer. I must go east, and speak to the Umazheh of the river, your cousins.”
“Stay with us. A few days won’t matter,” Unrush said.
“I leave in the morning, before the sun rises. The spirits compel me to make haste. Every spear will count in the reckoning that approaches.”
Unrush gave instructions for Staretz and his retinue to spend the night in his lodge. Balazeh and Korutz retired with the magus. Unrush ordered his family to show them every hospitality, then returned to the center of the village.
“Let us sleep, under the stars AuRon, for there is much to be discussed.”
The celebration continued. The hints of war raced through the camp like shooting stars, causing brief outbursts of excitement as the rumors passed. Hieba, still fatigued from her journey and captivity, slept against AuRon’s belly as he turned his neck to face Unrush across the coal-pit. The red glow made the chieftain look like some god of war cast in bronze. He fingered a curved dagger that he wore on his thigh, a prize of the Battle of the Misted Dawn.
“What is your mind on what Staretz has said?” AuRon asked.
“He speaks like something out of a legend,” Unrush said. “But how is the truth gained? He is not the first to see the fulfillment of prophecies. But the Umazheh grow excited, I can feel it.”
“You’ve started your people on a good path,” AuRon said. “What was empty meadow now has flocks, and where flocks once grazed, there are villages. This place has become what men would call a town, even if your streets are in rings and your huts still roofed with thatch.”
Unrush nodded. “Next the Kwo-Atlsh-Hen, the High Mountain Road will be built, a shortcut of bridges over the gorges and through the passes that will link the villages. Bridges of stone there will be.”
“War will mean an end to that,” AuRon said. “Your stonemasons will have to swing axes rather than hammers, your blacksmiths will make weapons instead of tools, and your laborers will carry spears rather than earth.”
“Why build a kingdom when conquest gives?”
“Unrush, you’ve seen battle. I fear your people will be fed into war, like charcoal into this firepit, to roast another’s feast. I also tell you that the men on the other side of the Falnges know what is coming; you will find them prepared. Hieba told me as much.
“I will go away with her; an old friend calls. I may not return. You’ve shown wisdom in leading your people, and I wish to give you the cave, my books, all the dominion I asked in our original bargain. You have many good years left to live. Think of what you can build and leave for your family, your people, if you devote the rest of your days to their future, rather than risk them in war.”
Unrush leaned back, stunned. “You would give Kraglad?”