精灵血脉四部曲-第203部分

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THE　FEEL　OF　POWER



　　　Stumpet　Rakingclaw　plodded　through　the　snow　halfway　up　the　side　of　Kelvin's　Cairn。　The　dwarf　knew　that　her　course　was　risky；　for　the　melt　in　Icewind　Dale　was　on　in　full　and　the　mountain　was　not　so　high　that　its　temperature　remained　below　the　point　of　freezing。　The　dwarf　could　feel　the　wetness　seeping　through　her　thick　leather　boots；　and　more　than　once　she　heard　telltale　rumblings　of　the　plaining　snow。

　　　The　stubborn　dwarf　plowed　on；　thrilled　by　the　potential　danger。　This　whole　slope　could　go　tumbling　down；　avalanches　were　not　unmon　on　Kelvin's　Cairn；　where　the　melt　came　fast。　Stumpet　felt　like　a　true　adventurer　at　that　moment；　braving　ground　she　believed　no　one　had　trod　in　many　years。　She　knew　little　of　the　region's　history；　for　she　had　gone　to　Mithril　Hall　along　with　Dagna　and　the　thousands　from　Citadel　Adbar　and　had　been　too　busy　working　in　the　mines　to　pay　attention　to　the　stories　the　members　of　Clan　Battlehammer　told　of　Icewind　Dale。

　　　Stumpet　did　not　know　the　story　of　the　most　famous　avalanche　on　this　very　mountain。　She　did　not　know　that　Drizzt　and　Akar　Kessel　had　waged　their　last　battle　here　before　the　ground　had　fallen　out　from　under　them；　burying　Kessel。

　　　Stumpet　stopped　and　reached　into　a　pouch；　producing　a　bit　of　lard。　She　uttered　a　minor　enchantment　and　touched　the　lard　to　pursed　lips；　enacting　a　spell　to　help　her　ward　off　the　chill。　The　season　was　fast　turning　to　summer　down　below；　but　the　wind　up　here　was　cold　still　and　the　dwarf　was　wet。　Even　as　she　finished；　she　heard　another　rumble　and　looked　up　to　the　mountain's　peak；　which　was　still　two　hundred　feet　away。　For　the　first　time　she　wondered　if　she　could　really　get　there。

　　　Kelvin's　Cairn　was　certainly　not　a　large　mountain。　If　it　had　been　near　Adbar；　Stumpet's　birthplace；　or　near　Mithril　Hall；　it　wouldn't　even　have　been　called　a　mountain　at　all。　It　was　just　a　hillock；　a　thousand…foot…high　clump　of　rock。　But　out　here　on　the　flat　tundra；　it　seemed　a　mountain；　and　Stumpet　Rakingclaw　was　a　dwarf　who　considered　the　challenge　of　climbing　to　be　the　primary　purpose　of　any　mountain。　She　knew　that　she　could　have　waited　until　late　summer；　when　there　would　have　been　little　snow　remaining　on　Kelvin's　Cairn　and　the　ground　would　be　more　accessible；　but　the　dwarf　had　never　been　known　for　her　patience。　Anyway；　the　mountain　wouldn't　be　much　of　a　challenge　without　the　dangerous；　shifting　snow。

　　　〃Don't　ye　be　falling　on　me；〃　Stumpet　said　to　the　mountain。　〃And　don't　ye　take　me　all　the　way　back　down！〃

　　　She　spoke　too　loudly　and；　as　if　in　answer；　the　mountain　gave　a　tremendous　groan。　Suddenly　Stumpet　was　sliding　backward。

　　　〃Oh；　damn　ye！〃　she　cursed；　taking　up　her　huge　pick；　looking　for　a　hold。　She　tumbled　over　backward；　but　kept　herself　oriented　enough　to　dodge　a　jutting　stone　and　to　set　her　pick　firmly　into　its　side。　Her　muscles　strained　as　the　snow　washed　past；　but　it　was　not　too　deep　and　the　force　of　it　not　too　strong。

　　　A　moment　later　all　was　quiet　again；　save　the　distant　echoes；　and　Stumpet　pulled　herself　out　of　the　giant　snowball　that　she　and　the　supporting　rock　had　bee。

　　　Then　she　noticed　a　curious　shard　of　ice　lying　on　the　now　bare　ground。　ing　free　of　the　snow　pile；　the　dwarf　gave　the　strangely　shaped　item　little　thought。　She　moved　up　to　a　spot　of　bare　ground　and　brushed　herself　off　as　thoroughly　as　possible　before　the　snow　could　melt　on　her　and　further　wet　her　already　sopping　clothing。

　　　Her　eyes　kept　roving　back　to　the　crystal。　It　didn't　seem　so　extraordinary；　just　a　hunk　of　ice。　And　yet；　the　dwarf　got　the　distinct　feeling　deep　in　her　gut　that　it　was　more　than　that。

　　　For　a　few　moments；　Stumpet　managed　to　fend　off　the　unreasonable　urges　and　concentrate　on　getting　herself　ready　to　continue　her　climb。

　　　The　piece　of　crystal　kept　calling　to　her；　just　below　her　conscious　level；　beckoning　her　to　pick　it　up。

　　　Before　she　realized　what　she　was　doing；　she　had　the　item　in　hand。　Not　ice；　she　realized　immediately；　for　it　was　warm　to　the　touch；　warm　and　somehow　forting。　She　held　it　up　to　the　light。　It　appeared　to　be　a　square…sided　icicle；　barely　a　foot　long。　Stum…pet　paused　and　removed　her　gloves。

　　　〃Crystal；〃　she　muttered　in　confirmation；　for　the　warm　item　did　not　have　the　slick　feel　of　ice。　Stumpet　closed　her　eyes；　concentrating　on　her　tactile　sense；　trying　to　feel　the　true　temperature　of　the　item。

　　　〃Me　spell；〃　the　dwarf　whispered；　thinking　she　had　figured　out　the　mystery。　She　chanted　again；　dispelling　the　magic　she　had　just　enacted　to　fend　off　the　cold。

　　　Still　the　crystal　shard　felt　warm。　Stumpet　rubbed　her　hands　across　its　side　and　its　warmth　spread　out　even　to　her　wet　toes。

　　　The　dwarf　scratched　the　stubble　on　her　chin　and　looked　around　to　see　if　anything　else　might　have　dislodged　in　the　small　avalanche。　She　was　thinking　clearly　now；　reasoning　through　this　unexpected　mystery。　But　all　she　saw　was　white　and　gray　and　brown；　the　unremarkable　tapestry　that　was　Kelvin's　Cairn。　That　didn't　deter　her　suspicions。　Again　she　held　the　crystal　shard　aloft；　watching　the　play　of　sunlight　through　its　depths。

　　　〃A　magical　ward　against　the　cold；〃　she　said　aloud。　〃A　merchant　brought　ye　on　a　trip　to　the　dale；〃　she　reasoned。　〃Might　be　that　he　was　seeking　some　treasure　up　here；　or　just　that　he　came　up　here　to　get　a　better　look　around；　thinking　that　ye'd　protect　him。　And　from　the　cold；　ye　did；〃　she　reasoned　confidently；　〃but　not　from　the　snowfall　that　buried　him！〃

　　　There；　she　had　it　figured　out。　Stumpet　felt　herself　lucky　indeed　to　have　found　such　a　useful　item　in　the　empty　wasteland　that　was　Kelvin's　Cairn。　She　looked　to　the　south；　where　the　tall　peaks　of　the　Spine　of　the　World；　perpetually　covered　in　snow；　loomed　in　a　gray　mist。　Suddenly；　the　dwarven　priestess　was　thinking　of　where　this　crystal　shard　might　take　her。　What　mountain　would　be　beyond　her　if　she　carried　such　protection？　She　could　climb　them　all　in　a　single　journey；　and　her　name　would　be　revered　among　the　dwarves！

　　　Already　Crenshinibon；　the　crystal　shard；　the　sentient　and　insidious　artifact　was　at　work；　imparting　subtle　promises　of　Stumpet's　deepest　desires　upon　her。　Crenshinibon　recognized　this　wielder；　not　only　a　dwarf；　but　a　dwarven　priestess；　and　was　not　pleased。　Dwarves　were　a　stubborn　and　difficult　lot；　and　resistant　to　magic。　But　still；　the　most　evil　of　artifacts　was　glad　to　be　out　of　the　snow；　glad　that　someone　had　returned　to　Kelvin's　Cairn　to　bear　Crenshinibon　away。

　　　The　crystal　shard　was　back　among　the　realm　of　the　living　now；　back　where　it　might　cause　more　havoc。



*****



　　　He　crept　along　the　tunnels；　measuring　his　steps　by　the　rhythmic　pounding　of　dwarven　hammers。　The　fit　of　the　tight　place　was　not　fortable；　not　for　one　used　to　the　stars　as　his　ceiling；　and　tall　Kierstaad　sometimes　had　to　get　down　on　his　knees　to　pass　through　low　archways。

　　　Hearing　footsteps；　he　paused　at　one　corner　and　flattened　himself　as　much　as　possible　against　the　wall。　He　was　unarmed；　but　he　would　not　be　weled　here　in　the　dwarven　mines；　not　after　Bruenor's　unsavory　encounter　with　Berkthgar。　Kierstaad's　father；　Revjak；　had　been　better　in　dealing　with　the　dwarf；　weling　Bruenor's　return；　but　even　in　that　meeting；　the　strain　had　been　obvious。　Berkthgar　and　his　followers　were　putting　tremendous　pressure　on　Revjak　for　a　plete　return　to　the　ancient　ways　of　mistrusting　anyone　who　was　not　of　the　tribe。　Revjak　was　wise　enough　to　know　that　if　he　fought　Berkthgar　too　boldly　on　this　issue；　he　might　lose　control　of　the　tribe　altogether。

　　　Kierstaad　saw　it；　too；　and　his　feelings　were　mixed。　He　remained　loyal　to　his　father；　and　believed　that　the　dwarves　were　his　friends；　but　Berkthgar's　arguments　were　convincing。　The　ancient　ways梩he　hunt　across　the　tundra；　the　prayers　to　the　spirits　of　those　animals　who　were　taken梥eemed　so　refreshing　to　the　young　man　who　had　spent　the　last　few　years　of　his　life　dealing　with　wretched　merchants　or　battling　dark　elves。

　　　The　approaching　dwarves　turned　away　at　the　intersection；　never　noticing　Kierstaad；　and　the　barbarian　breathed　easier。　He　paused　a　moment　to　get　his　bearings；　recalling　which　tunnels　he　had　already　passed　through　and　where　he　believed　the　personal　quarters　of　the　leader　would　be。　Many　of　the　dwarves　were　out　of　the　mines　this　day；　having　gone　to　Bryn　Shander　to　collect　the　supplies　Bruenor　had　purchased。　Those　remaining　were　in　the　deeper　tunnels；　eagerly　opening　up　veins　of　precious　minerals。

　　　Kierstaad　encountered　no　others　as　he　made　his　way；　often　backtracking；　sometimes　going　in　circles。　At　last　he　came　to　a　small　corridor　with　two　doors　on　either　side　and　another　at　the　very　end。　The　first　room　seemed　very　undwarflike。　Plush　carpets　and　a　bed　stacked　high　with　mattresses　and　higher　still　with　warm　forters　told　the　barbarian　who　it　was　that　used　this　room。

　　　〃Regis；〃　Kierstaad　said　with　a　soft　chuckle；　nodding　as　he　spoke　the　name。　The　halfling　was　supposedly　everything　the　barbarian　people　despised；　lazy；　fat；　gluttonous；　and　worst　of　all；　sneaky。　Yet；　Kierstaad's　smile　（and　the　smiles　of　many　other　barbarians）　had　widened　every　time　Regis　had　e　bobbing　into　Settlestone。　Regis　was　the　only　halfling　Kierstaad　had　ever　met；　but　if　〃Rumblebelly；〃　as　many　called　him；　was　indicative　of　the　race；　Kierstaad　thought　that　he　would　like　to　meet　many　more。　Gently　he　closed　the　door；　with　one　last　smirk　at　the　pile　of　mattresses桼egis　often　boasted　that　he　could　make　himself　fortable　any　place；　at　any　time。

　　　Indeed。

　　　Both　rooms　across　the　hall　were　unoccupied；　each　holding　a　single　bed　more　suited　to　a　human　than　a　dwarf。　This；　too；　Kierstaad　understood；　for　it　was　no　secret　that　Bruenor　hoped　that　Drizzt　and　Catti…brie　would　someday　return　to　his　side。

　　　The　end　of　the　hall　was　likely　a　sitting　room；　the　barbarian　reasoned。　That　left　one　door；　the　door　to　the　chambers　of　the　dwarven　king。　Kierstaad　moved　slowly；　tentatively；　fearing　that　a　cunning　trap　had　been　set。

　　　He　cracked　open　the　door；　just　an　inch。　No　pits　opened　below　his　feet；　no　stones　fell　from　the　ceiling　onto　his　head。　Gaining　confidence；　the　young　barbarian　pushed　the　door　wide。

　　　Bruenor's　room；　there　could　be　no　doubt。　A　scattering　of　parchments　sat　atop　a　wooden　desk　across　the　way；　extra　clothes　were　pil