"I will gladly speak with Lord Kane," Hammerhand said. "The ownership of Kal-Thax is not open to negotiation, but there may be agreements by which Lord Kane can be compensated-through trade, for instance, or an alliance."

"May I tell Lord Kane that he has your word of honor that you and your people will not come beyond your border, pending negotiations?"

"What does Lord Kane offer in return for such a pledge?"

"He makes the same promise," Gart said. "His Highness offers you his pledge, upon his honor, that no force will be brought against you, pending negotiations."

"And when will such negotiations take place?"

"Unfortunately," Gart replied with a shrug, "not until spring. Lord Kane has received orders from His Imperial Majesty that will keep him occupied through the winter."

"Orders to build a new fortress in Klanath?"

Gart blinked, then smiled slightly. "Ah, you know about that, do you? Yes, that is part of his task. I can tell you no more."

"If s none of our concern," Hammerhand noted.

"But for you to know of it, you must have spies watching the city. And to see the city, they must be north of here. Lord Kane's request is that your people no longer come north of the border… which you yourself have designated."

"I will stand by my pledge," Hammerhand said, "as long as he stands by his." Hammerhand waved the Ten back and strode toward the mounted man. When he was only a few feet from him, he looked up into his face, studying him carefully. "Can I trust your Lord Kane in this, Commander Gart? Do you trust him?"

Gart hesitated. He felt as though the dwarf were seeing right into his head. For an instant, he suspected magic. But he had never heard of a dwarf using magic.

"I'll ask my question another way, Commander," Hammerhand said. "Do you believe that Lord Kane means to stand by his pledge to me?"

"Yes," the man answered. "I believe he does. He said he would."

Hammerhand nodded. "Thank you," he said. "I think you do not truly trust the man you work for. But I believe that you expect him to keep his pledge, for whatever reason. It is enough. Tell Lord Kane that he has the pledge of Hammerhand, and that I have his. We will negotiate in the spring. Oh, and I will withdraw my observers from the peaks. It really is none of our concern what you people do over there, as long as you don't bother us."

The dwarf turned and walked away, not looking back. For a moment, Tulien Gart watched him, wondering what sort of mind could seem so perceptive, yet so readily trust one who hated him, as he must know Lord Kane di"d. Would Hammerhand really pull his spies back, away from Klanath? If I were him, Gart wondered, would I?

The commander sincerely hoped that Lord Kane would keep his promise. Yet the dwarf was right. Sakar Kane was not a man he himself would trust. As Hammerhand approached his waiting guards, Gart turned his mount and rode away, back to his escort. By the time the dwarves had disappeared behind their wall, the emissaries were filing northward, down the pass.

Calan Silvertoe was aghast when he heard of the pledge Derkin had given. "You aren't really going to call in the sentinels," he demanded. "You'll leave us blind."

"It was a fair request," Derkin said. "By our own declaration, our watchers are four miles beyond our boundary. They are trespassing." He turned to his nearest drummer. "Recall the sentinels," he ordered.

The drums began to speak, but still Calan ranted. "You're making a mistake!" he shouted, his nose inches from Derkin's. "You can't trust humans!"

"If I expect Lord Kane to keep his pledge, then I must keep mine," the Hylar said flatly. "Besides, there's no reason for him to betray us. Winter is coming. This pass would be of no use to him until spring, even if he held it."

With the old one-arm and the Ten trailing after him, the Master of Tharkas Pass strode through his encampment. Everywhere were sullen, irritable dwarves. Thousands of them, and everywhere Derkin looked he saw the signs of their discontent. There were broken noses, blackened eyes, bandaged knuckles, and various, assorted bruises. For a few weeks they had been idle, and they looked as though they had been in a pitched battle.

"Boredom," Derkin muttered. "Our worst enemy is simple boredom. It is our nature." Turning to his escorts, he ordered, "Get the Chosen Ones packed and ready to travel. I want this pass cleared as soon as all the sentinels are in."

"Where are we going?" Calan asked, bewildered.

"Home," Derkin rasped. "Home to Stoneforge, where there is work to do. If we remain here much longer, we'll be killing one another."

"And leave the pass unguarded?" Calan Silvertoe and Tap Tolec asked in unison.

"I'll remain here, with the Red-and-Grays," Derkin decided. "We'll stay until first snow. After that, the pass will guard itself until spring. Send for Vin the Shadow. He can take command for the trek to Stoneforge. I'll catch up along the way."

"You're being foolish, Derkin," Calan told him.

"I'm doing what I must," Derkin growled, gazing around at his people, with their accumulated boredom scars. "A few more days of doing nothing, and the Chosen Ones will be no better than those idiots in Thorbardin!"

Even before Tulien Gart had returned from Tharkas Pass, watchers on Lord Kane's battlements spotted movement high on the peaks above Klanath. With dwarven-crafted far-seeing tubes, they saw dwarves in the heights emerging from hiding, clambering away along impossible slopes.

"My message has done its work," Sakar Kane gloated when he heard the report. "The dwarves have had spies watching us, but now they are being pulled away." He strode across his great room and slammed the door open. "Captain of the guard!" he shouted.

When the captain of his household guard appeared, Kane said, "Ready the engines, Morden. We move on Tharkas Pass."

"It worked then?" Morden's scarred face split in a toothy grin. 'The dwarves believed in the truce?"

"I knew they would," Kane said with a sneer. "I knew itr-when that fool Gart described their leader to me. A Hylar dwarf, he said. It is well known that many of the Hylar are inflicted with those idiotic principles of chivalry and honor that our own Orders of Knighthood hold so dear. That is why I chose Tulien Gart to carry my message. He himself is something of a fool where chivalry is concerned… and he truly believes that I mean to keep my pledge to those dinks."

"Commander Gart is going to have a fit when he sees our siege engines rolling into the pass." Morden grinned.

"I seem to recall that the scar on your cheek came from Gart's blade," Kane said. "Does it ever pain you?"

"Its memory does," Morden answered. "One day I may repay the favor."

"As you please," Kane said. "Tulien Gart is of no further use to me."

Only six hundred dwarves remained in Tharkas Pass when great, lashed-timber siege engines rolled out of morning mist and were hauled into line a hundred yards from Derkin's Wall. Hammerhand had sent the Chosen Ones southward, toward Stoneforge. All that remained were Derkin himself, the Ten, the Red and Gray Company, and roughly fifty others who had volunteered to stay.

Now three full battalions of human soldiers and a thousand footmen drafted from the streets of Klanath emerged from the mists, towing tall engines of death, and methodically arranged themselves in siege-and-attack formation as dwarves crowded onto the wall in fury and disbelief.

"I told you so!" Calan Silvertoe shouted at Derkin Hammerhand. "I told you not to trust the humans!"

"I believed that man spoke the truth," Derkin said bleakly.

"He may have, but his prince didn't," Tap Tolec observed.

The sound of sledges rang in the pass as a dozen tall catapults were anchored into the stone, while ox-drawn carts came carrying the stones to feed them. Atop the dwarven wall, slings began to hum, and crossbows thudded. Here and there among the humans, men fell, but only a few. The range was too great for either sling-balls or bolts.