The Dark Path (17 page)

"Not enough?" The mage grinned. "How about we forge it first. Then we'll agree on a price."

"Deal," Ferin said and held out his hand.

"Deal." Gen smiled as he shook the dwarf's hand. Ferin was surprised to see that the smile wasn't faked. It reflected in his eyes. Ferin nodded, then turned and walked over to his stock pile. Gen took his arms out of his sleeves and folded the robe down around his waist. His pale torso was almost emaciated but his arms and chest rippled with tight muscle, crisscrossed with various scars. He walked over to the rack of hammers and chose one that suited him, then turned back to the fire. Ferin turned back to watch the mage and gasped.

"What happened to you, M'boy?"

"Lessons learned," Gen stated flatly, his ice blue eyes burning once more with a cold fire.

"Never seen a mage with battle scars before." Ferin shook his head sadly. Who was this mage? Could he be a battle mage? He handed the stock to the mage then went about building a fire in the small stove he had in his shop for heating and cooking. He prepared some tea and sat to watch the ponderous mage work. He expected to have to step in and correct errors soon.

Ferin shook his head in disbelief. This thin, scarred mage had been forging out the basic shape of the hammer now for over two hours without resting. The hammer blows were powerful and he didn't mar the metal. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it. The cold fire was back in the mage's eyes. It burned bright, as if he was using the rage inside him to fuel his work. Ferin was brewing some more tea, having finished the first pot himself. Every now and then Gen would turn to him and ask him if what he had done looked good. The dwarf just nodded for the most part. Sometimes giving small pointers, but he was hard pressed to find any flaws in the mage's work.

Another hour went by and Gen had the basic shape of the hammer formed. He then handed the hammer over to Ferin and bowed toward him slightly. Ferin took the hammer and went to work finishing the shape and welding on the handle while Gen sat and drank some of the tea. Another hour had the hammer almost finished. Ferin was chiseling in decorations and odd runes that Gen drew upon the hammer with a piece of soapstone. He was about to put it in for the final quench when Gen stopped him.

"Set it on the anvil with the spike in the hardie hole," Gen said quietly to a confused Ferin. He then reached into a pouch tied at his belt and pulled out a block about half the size of his fist. It gleamed brilliant silver even in the forge light. Ferin let out a low whistle.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ferin said in awe. His eyes were locked onto that block of metal. "I haven't seen any of that since I was a youngster without a beard."

"Step back over here please. Have a cup of tea. I must work a bit of magic now." Gen set the block down in the middle of the forge fire. The metal seemed to suck the heat out of the fire but the metal didn't glow at all.

Ferin walked over and sat by the stove. He didn't like the idea of magic being done in his shop, but he wouldn't object after seeing that silver tinged metal.

Gen raised his hands and began singing in a spidery language that felt itchy in the dwarf's ears. His fingers drew in the air and twisted into an odd pattern. His voice grew louder and suddenly the forge fire doubled in brightness. Gen clenched his right fist and quit singing. His left hand reached into the pouch at his belt again and pulled out something that made Ferin's eyes grow even wider. Gen held in his left hand a huge tooth. Ferin could tell it was a dragon's tooth but it was about three times as large as the one he wore around his neck. He wondered if that was the creature the mage had helped slay in his homeland.

Gen held the dragon tooth over the forge fire and chanted four words. He then began crushing the tooth into a fine powder that fell into the fire and covered the silvery block. Gen's right fist raised suddenly above his head and opened. The fire grew instantly too bright for Ferin to look at. Instead, he focused on the mage. Brilliant blue-green light bathed Gen as he stared at the impossibly bright fire and held perfectly still. Then he lowered his hands and began to chant in a deep voice that sounded strangely dwarven.

Ferin listened a bit closer and was surprised to find that it was indeed dwarven. Ancient dwarven. He couldn't understand most of it but he got the idea of what was said as he saw with amazement the silvery metal, liquid now, flow through the air and to the hammer on the anvil. The metal flowed into all the engravings and covered the face and spike solid. The steel of the hammer glowed near to welding hot but thankfully didn't melt or crack. When the last of the metal poured slowly out of the fire and onto the hammer, it flowed around the weld and the handle. It actually trickled down the handle and covered the metal shaft all the way down. Then the fire died down to a dull red glow and Gen once again chanted. He said only two words but the hammer rose from the anvil face and plunged itself into the quench tank. A shriek of steam rose out of the tank. Gen motioned with his hand and the hammer rose out of the tank and laid back down on the anvil.

When the handle clinked against the anvil, Gen suddenly fell limp and just barely landed into the other chair by the stove. Sweat covered his body and his hands hung loosely at his sides. He looked wearily over at Ferin, a weak smile crossed his lips, then his head laid back and he fell instantly asleep.

Gen woke to the smell of cooking bacon. He opened his eyes slowly to see a low roof above him. He turned his pounding head and saw Ferin leaning over the cooking stove, tending it for the morning meal. Gen slowly moved his legs down over the side of the bed and slumped down onto his knees, to accommodate the low ceiling. He walked on his knees over to a chair that was beside the stove and pulled himself up into it. He hadn't thought the spell would have drained him so much, but then again, he had never cast dwarven magic quite like that before. He had read about it and watched the dwarves once, after he had slayed the black dragon that had tried to take their home. He smiled to himself. Well he guessed this proved he could do it. He looked at Ferin and wondered why the dwarf wore a deep frown upon his face.

"What is wrong?" Gen rasped. His throat felt raw and dry. Ferin about jumped out of his boots and turned around quickly.

"What's the big idea? Trying to scare an old dwarf out of the few years he has left to him!" Ferin muttered into his beard.

"What's for breakfast?" Gen said giggling a bit. He felt oddly giddy. He hadn't worked himself that hard in quite a while.

"Bacon and hard bread," Ferin muttered and sat down beside the stove. He looked up wearily at Gen. "Just who are you anyway?"

"I told you my name. Gen Hothman."

"How did you know how to do that? I know my people didn't teach you. No one but master dwarven smiths have that knowledge. I wasn't even taught that before I left the mountain!"

"I studied them," Gen said quietly. "I study all magic. Most people think that your people have no magic. They shun it so openly. Yet I found in my studies that your people do have magic, powerful magic. But they don't view it as that. They see it as using theirselves and their god to empower the things they forge. I had no idea it would be so taxing on the body though. Did the hammer survive?"

Ferin grunted and walked out the door into the shop. He came back with the hammer. It was beautiful. Ferin had apparently finished the handle while Gen slept. He handed it to Gen. Gen took it and found it lighter than it looked. He smiled. Those runes had worked as he had hoped. He took a few small swings with it. He looked up at Ferin.

"Have you tested it?"

Ferin walked back into the shop again and came back carrying a shield and a helm. He set them down beside the stove, then put a pot of water to boil, and turned the bacon over. Gen looked at the shield, or what was left of it. The front had a diamond shaped hole from where the spike had entered it. He turned the shield around. The back was half burnt away and the metal around the rim of the shield had started to melt. Gen's eyebrows rose a bit at that. He set the shield aside and picked up the helm. The helm had once been very nice. Now it was no more than scrap metal. It looked as if the impact from the hammer side had made the metal blow itself apart. Gen looked back at Ferin.

"What do you think?" Gen watched as Ferin took the bacon and put it on a copper plate along with a piece of hard bread. He passed the plate to Gen and then poured them both a glass of strong tea. Gen nodded his thanks and ate the bacon. The tea was rather strong and had an odd musty taste to it as well. He dipped his bread into the tea to soften it. The tea seemed to stop the throbbing behind his eyes.

"I think it's a nice warhammer. Best one I've seen, away from home. No. That's a lie,” he shook his head. “It's the best one I've seen in my life. I've heard of hammers like it though. When I was a youth without a beard, I remember tales of hammers of old that would put this one to shame. Don't know if they were more than stories though." He shook his head. "Still can't believe what I saw last night. Though I still don't know what this had to do with getting revenge."

"You'll see. Let's just say that it's a bit of insurance from this kind of thing happening here again." He handed the hammer back to Ferin and watched as the dwarf handled it lovingly and hung it upon the wall.

"I've heard your name before. It's been bothering me. I can't remember where I heard it. How would I have heard of you?" Ferin looked up at Gen, a worried look once again upon his face.

"I was in a war." Gen grew silent for a time and sipped his tea slowly. His eyes were pained and distant as if reliving those times.

"The Artorian war?" Ferin asked after a while. Gen nodded, his eyes still distant. Suddenly, Ferin sucked in a large breath and blew it out slowly. "Now I know why I've heard of you. You were the dark general in that war! The unknown necromancer! Rumor had it that you were the god of death himself." Ferin looked at Gen with fear and awe. "I've heard stories of that war, tales to make you not able to sleep well at night, mostly tales of things you did there." Gen came back to the present and sighed slowly. He suddenly looked a lot older than he was. His eyes grew dark and full of sorrow.

"A lot of people died because of me." Gen looked down into his mug of tea. "I still see their faces when I go to sleep. I see men screaming as the flesh was ripped from their bodies by undead hands. I see those dead men rise up and join their killers under no other command but my own. It was a dark time. I'm not ashamed of what I've done, but I didn't enjoy it. Well not much anyway." He smirked a bit at the last part, sending a shiver down Ferin's spine. "I still have legions of them you know. Back in Artoria, I have a grand fortress back there.

Before I went to D'Nhia, I thought I had seen it all. Then I saw how they use the dead there. Made me feel cold inside. I won't go back there for a while, if ever. I came back home because I could feel that I was losing myself, falling into the darkness and I didn't even care. Then I remembered something back here that I had to do, something that I hadn't forgotten but had somehow been pushed back in importance.” He turned and focused his look upon the dwarf. “It's been nice to find myself for a change. To not have to be "Evil" all the time. It's hard to keep that image up.” He laughed suddenly. "Why am I telling you all this? Maybe I’m just so exhausted from the work that it doesn't matter anymore, or maybe I'm just sick of being alone." He fell silent and sipped his tea.

"It's a beautiful hammer," Ferin said quietly. "If you were truly evil, then you wouldn't have been able to use my people's magic. The god of smiths would never have allowed it. I don't know what all you did in that war, but the man I met last night was not evil." He smiled, as he looked at Gen. "You owe me two hundred gold now you know." He winked. Gen looked at the old dwarf and laughed loudly. It felt good to laugh. Seemed like he hadn't really laughed in a very long time. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a couple of large coins. They were not gold. They looked like highly polished silver. He tossed them to the dwarf.

"Will that cover it?" He finished his tea and poured himself another cup. Ferin held the coins up to the light and let out another one of his low whistles.

"Platinum. Haven't seen that in a while. Didn't think anyone minted it anymore." He looked at the picture stamped into the coin. One side had the grinning face of a skull. The other side bore a hooded face.

"Whose coin is it? I haven't seen this mark before."

"I made them two years ago. People told me if I had a fortress, then I should have my own coin." Gen reached into his pouch and was about to pull something else out. "I have something else for you." He withdrew his hand and held a ring in his palm. It was a plain silver band. Nothing was engraved upon it. Gen handed it to Ferin. "Put it on."

"If it hurts me then you know what will happen to you." Ferin smiled but glanced at the hammer within his reach. Gen nodded sullenly, then sipped at his fresh cup of tea. Ferin looked at the ring all over. It looked like it would probably fit his smallest finger. He slid it on. The ring changed size, as he put it on, to fit his finger perfectly. Instantly, a soothing warmth flowed through his body from the ring. He looked suddenly at the mage, thinking he had been betrayed. Gen merely smiled and took another sip of tea.

"This is good tea. What's in it?"

"Family secret," he grunted. The warmth that flowed through his body seemed to center on his bad leg. He had taken a bad hit with an axe in that leg years ago and it had made him limp ever since. The axe had severed something in his leg that had never healed correctly. The warmth seemed to be making the leg feel better though. Then suddenly the warmth left and the ring grew cold, like metal, once more. "What did this thing do to me?"