"My lord, I am glad you are safe."

"With thanks to you. But what happened? Your hand…" He was suddenly aware that he didn't even know who the young dwarf's name. "Please, tell me your name!"

"It's Sandhour, my lord. They call me Squinter Sandhour."

"Well Squinter Sandhour, I owe you my life."

"It was an honor to defend you, my lord. But all these Klar! What does it mean?"

"I have a feeling it means trouble, my good son. Terrible trouble. But come with me. Let's get you down to the healer."

By the time the lift clunked downward, the sounds of fighting had faded away and Level Twenty-eight was securely in the hands of the Hylar once again. Yet all the rest of Hybardin seemed alive with unusual noise. The echoes of panic and terror resonated deep into Baker Whitegranite's heart.

War on the Waterfront

Belicia looked out over the water, unable to ignore a rising feeling of disquiet. For one thing, the chain boats from both Daerforge and Theibardin were long overdue. Both the pulley and the gear systems had become disabled within a few hours of each other, each crippled by an unknown and therefore undiagnosable problem. Breakdowns in the chain ferry system were routine enough, but she didn't like this unusual coincidence. And then there had been the news from Level Twenty-eight. So far, they were nothing more than a series of wild rumors, but she was steadily growing more concerned.

Belicia climbed the wide stairway that led directly from the dockside to the great trading plaza on the second level of Hybardin. At the center of this wide space was the lowest terminal for Hybardin's main transport, the Great Lift which led from the market plaza all the way up to Level Twenty-eight. The next higher lift station, at Level Three, was more than a hundred feet above and could also be reached from the waterfront by a long climb up several stairways or by one of the smaller lifts.

The stairs connecting the plaza to the docks were oriented to the four points of the compass and each was flanked by a pair of ramparts guarded by a low wall. Belicia took the time to walk around the perimeter of one such bulwark, observing that her archers would have a clear field of fire over any attacker. Because of the height and the crenellated defensive wall, the youngsters who made up the bulk of her missile troops would be well protected from direct contact with the attackers. As long as the shield wall held across the width of the stairs, the Hylar up above would be able to create a deadly distraction to the enemy trapped on the approach.

After a great deal of thought, she had decided to divide her shield company into five sections and place one group at each of the four stairways. The fifth group would include many of her best warriors and would form a reserve to garrison the trading plaza and also be ready to rush to the defense of any threatened quadrant. She had broken her archers into four bands, each with standing orders to garrison the ramparts of the stairways in the event of an attack. From here they would be able to direct a harassing fire onto boats approaching the docks, and Belicia was convinced that she could make an enemy's efforts to land prove very costly indeed. Furthermore, she had stockpiled a huge amount of arrows at each archery station.

She took a few moments to inspect the final cornerstone of her defense. One of the heavy ballistae rested on a swivel mount just above the stairway rampart. A pair of these overlooked each set of stairs, and she nodded in greeting to the three grizzled veterans who operated this particular weapon. The ballista was like a giant crossbow, powered by a massive spring and shooting a steel-headed missile whose shaft was made from the trunk of a medium-sized tree. Though even a veteran crew could shoot only one shaft every few minutes, each great arrow weighed hundreds of pounds and was quite capable of puncturing or capsizing all but the largest of lake boats.

But if she made her stand at the stairs, that meant abandoning the waterfront in the face of the first wave of attacks. The announcement of that decision had stirred up a hornet's nest. Now she turned to await the approach of a delegation of merchants and ship-owners, all of whom had spent most of the last two days demanding that Belicia's defensive arrangements be overruled.

"My good captain," declared Hoist Backwrench, a shipbuilder who did a significant amount of business along the Hybardin docks, "You must reconsider your plan! We can't simply hand over the dockyards to our enemies, no matter how numerous their swords!"

"My plan is the only chance that gives an undersized force a fighting chance against a more numerous foe. Why can't you understand that?"

"We understand perfectly!" retorted Sootmaker Darkfern, a prominent importer of coal. "You're willing to throw us to the dragons so you can keep your own troops alive!"

Belicia flushed, infuriated by the words. Before she could snap out a reply that would have done nothing to soothe the merchants' fears, she bit her tongue and forced herself to take a deep breath. "You've heard the news from above?" she asked, knowing the whole city had been abuzz with news of the Klar attack.

"A few lunatics with more ale than sense, I'll wager," Hoist said. "No doubt we'll find out that most of the stories are nothing but exaggerations."

"Or it could be the start of an attack that's bigger than anything we've ever considered," Belicia said. Ever since she heard about the raid against the Level Twenty-eight, she had grown increasingly apprehensive about the vulnerability of the Life-Tree. "We have suspicious reports from three clans and clear signs of trouble afoot."

"Bah! There could be a thousand reasons why the boats have stopped!" insisted Hoist Backwrench.

"And one of them is that the thanes of the Theiwar and Daergar wanted to cut us off from any chance of warning. When you've heard that the Klar are already making mischief, didn't you think we would have to take this seriously?"

Before the argument could proceed any further, a pair of gray-bearded dwarves and their escort of palace guards approached the party. Despite her firm stance and utter self-assurance, Belicia was relieved to recognize her father and the thane.

"Ah, there you are," said Axel Slateshoulders, giving his daughter a wide grin. "Why don't you explain to these gentlemen what you told the thane yesterday? I'm sure they'll see that your plan makes sense."

"What makes sense is to hold the whole dock!" insisted Hoist as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"I'm surprised at you, Hoist," said Baker Whitegranite. "You know better than that."

The acting thane blinked at the dozen or so merchants who formed a glowering ring around them. His glasses were smudged, and Belicia wondered if he was having a little difficulty seeing.

"This is not about cowardice," the thane continued, "or throwing anyone to the dragons. It's about holding and protecting Hybardin if the worse comes to worst."

"And what's the news from above?" demanded a Hylar Belicia didn't recognize. "There are tales of Klar run wild!"

"I'm afraid that's true," Baker replied, turning his attention to Belicia. "Several bands of armed Klar burst into manors on the highest level. The Ferrust family was killed to the last dwarf and several others took casualties before their house guards were able to prevail."

"Then the attack was more than just an isolated raid?"

"Of course it was," Axel answered. "Perhaps a hundred or more different routes into Hybardin were used, and the attacks were as carefully timed as you could expect from the Klar."

"What about the King's Wall?" Belicia asked.