"The Perished Land is advancing?" Gandogar took a deep breath. It was clear from the counselor's words that the magi had failed to stem the tide of evil. "I never trusted the longuns' magic!" he said heatedly. "All those fancy fireworks and to what end? Nudin, Lot-Ionan, Andфkai, and the rest of them are too busy perfecting their magic with their too-clever-by-half apprentices. They scribble away in their laboratories and castles, studying the secret of elven immortality so they can scribble and study and scribble some more. And all the while the Perished Land is creeping forward like rust on metal that no one has remembered to treat."

His blunt words met with noisy approval.

"At least some good has come of it. The elves have been all but annihilated." Gandogar's heart leaped at the thought that the arrogant elves would soon meet their doom. It was his firm intention that he and his warriors would inflict the final blow. The elves had murdered his father and brother, but now the time of reckoning was near. Soon the feuding and fighting will be over once and for all. He was itching to tell the others of his plan.

"All but annihilated?" echoed Balendilнn, frowning.

"Elders and chieftains, this is joyful news indeed!" Gandogar's cheeks were flushed and his brown eyes shone with enthusiasm. "Vraccas has given us the means to wipe out the children of Sitalia. The last of their race are gathered here." His index finger stabbed at the small dot on the map representing all that remained of the elven kingdom. "Listen to what I propose: Let us form a great army, march on Вlandur, and extract our vengeance for deeds that have gone unpunished for cycles!"

The delegates stared at him, dumbfounded. Bislipur's surprise tactics had worked.

"Gandogar, we gathered here today to elect a new high king," Balendilнn said evenly, trying to deflate the excitement. It was clear from the murmured conversations that the fourthling king's proposal had struck a chord. "It is not for us to talk of war with the elves. Our duty is to protect the peoples of Girdlegard." He turned imploringly to the benches. "Friends, remember the commandment given to us by Vraccas!"

Gandogar scanned the faces of the delegates. He could see that they were torn. "First listen to what I have to say. Documents have come into my possession, ancient documents uncovered by Bislipur and handed to me. Hear what they speak of; then decide for yourselves what should be done." He took a deep breath, unfurled a roll of parchment, and read in a solemn voice:

And the elves were filled with envy.

Desirous of the dwarven treasure, they fell upon the fifthling kingdom and ambushed Giselbert's folk.

Fierce fighting broke out in the underground halls and at the Stone Gateway.

Some of the enemy were trapped by Giselbert in a gloomy labyrinth, never to be seen again.

But the treacherous elves used their magic to poison the children of the Smith. One by one the fifthlings succumbed.

The elves seized their chance and slaughtered the ailing dwarves. Only a handful of Giselbert's folk escaped the massacre.

Silence descended on the great hall. Gandogar's words echoed in the minds of his listeners, his commanding voice breathing new life into the ancient script.

Drawn by the smell of death and bloodshed, orcs and trolls marched on the Stone Gateway and gathered at the border.

The cowardly elves fled in terror, abandoning Girdlegard to its fate. But before they fled, they used their cunning to open the portal. Giselbert and his remaining warriors defended the pass with the staunchness of true dwarves, but their depleted army could do nothing against the hordes.

It was then that evil entered Girdlegard.

He paused to measure the force of his speech. With a little more persuasion, he would have them on his side. Only Gundrabur's one-armed counselor was shaking his head.

"I do not trust these lines, King Gandogar. Why were they not discovered before now? It seems strange that a document incriminating the elves should emerge at this time. It suits your purpose rather well."

"The document was hidden, who knows for what purpose-perhaps by a doubting dwarf like yourself who lacked the conviction to go to war," came Gandogar's scornful reply. He raised his ax and buried the blade in the map, cleaving Вlandur. "You heard what the document says. They killed our kin and betrayed us! They must pay for their murderous deeds."

"And then what?" Balendilнn asked harshly. "Tell me, King Gandogar, who would benefit from the destruction of the elves? Their deaths won't further our interests, nor those of mankind! No, destroying Вlandur will profit the Perished Land alone. We may as well join forces with the дlfar and help them to victory. Is that what you want?" The counselor fixed his eyes on Gandogar, who suddenly felt dangerously exposed. "Our real enemies aren't the elves, Your Majesty. Vraccas didn't give us the authority to fight the peoples of Girdlegard. By my beard, none of us can stand the elves; it's in our nature not to like them. There have been skirmishes, even deaths, I know." He placed a hand on his left shoulder. "I lost a limb in a fight with four orcs, but I'd sooner sever my one good arm than raise it in a war against the elves. Our races have their differences, but Vraccas bade us protect the elves and we have never neglected our task. Do you propose to break his commandment?"

Gandogar fixed the one-armed counselor with a furious glare. Balendilнn had sabotaged his plans for vengeance and nothing he could say would mend the damage. Through the silence he heard Bislipur grinding his teeth.

"The дlfar are no friends of mine," he said at last. "No, this is about seizing our opportunity. Once the elves are defeated, I will lead our armies to victory against the Perished Land. Tion's minions have plagued Girdlegard for too long. The dwarves shall triumph where humans have failed!"

"You surprise me, King Gandogar," said Balendilнn, an expression of open bewilderment spreading over his age- and experience-lined face. "Surely you don't mean to defy the commands of our god? It seems to me your reason has been subdued by hatred." He paused and eyed Bislipur suspiciously. "Unless false counsel is to blame."

The delegates shuffled and muttered until a secondling from the clan of the Bear Hands rose to his feet.

"In my opinion, the matter is worthy of debate," he said firmly. "What if the document speaks the truth? Once a traitor always a traitor! The elves might leave their crumbling kingdom and found a new settlement by seizing human land."

"What if they betray another of our folks?" The speaker, a chieftain of the same clan, leaped up, burning with zeal. "The pointy-ears will stoop to any level. I can't say whether or not they murdered the fifthlings, but they should be punished all the same!" He left his place and stood alongside Gandogar in a public show of support. "You may be a fourthling, but I stand by your cause."

Shouts of approval sounded from the benches. The dwarves' low voices rumbled through the chamber until all that could be heard was a single word: war. Balendilнn's calls for order were drowned out by the noise.

Gandogar sat back and exchanged satisfied looks with his adviser. Girdlegard will soon be free of elves.

At that moment an almighty bang rocked the hall. "Silence!" a voice thundered sternly through the din.

The delegates turned in astonishment.

Crown on his snowy head, Gundrabur stood perfectly erect before them, the ceremonial hammer in one hand. He had swung it against the throne so furiously that the marble revealed deep cracks.

His eyes showed no sign of age, only recrimination, as he looked down at the chieftains and elders. No dwarf was more majestic, more imposing than he. His former weakness and frailty had vanished, driven out by rage.