Hammer of the Gods

Chapter 22

BITTER TREASURE

Chapter 12

Upon the earth and down within

Walk the ones called the Nephilim

The blood of angels from Heaven above

Who came to the earth, mortals they loved

Giants were born and heroes of old

Hercules the strong and Achilles the bold

Jason did find the Golden Fleece

The arm of Grendel did Beowulf keep

Perseus the head of Medusa did take

With it the Kraken to stone he did make

Gnomes and Dwarves were said to be kin

Dark secret lies over the gem

The tunnels we take through dark earth we go

Battle it rages who wins we don’t know

The King stared in wonder at the stone for a moment and then held it over his head with one hand. He turned to face his men so that all of the dwarven defenders could see the great ruby of their forefathers. The faces of the soldiers were now illuminated by red light. King Grumblemace uttered words of victory in dwarvish, followed by a cheer from his men.

The old king turned back towards Atungitok before he lowered the stone. Bending over stiffly, he retrieved his mace, Valdangrer, with his left hand and then stood erect once more, although he grimaced and stretched his back obviously in some discomfort. “Thank you Atungitok, son of Ishinkok. May you and your companions have the protection of Poseidon on your journey to the center of the earth. Should you ever return to my realm, you will be welcome in my halls. Alas, merrymaking will have to wait, for war is upon us all. Whether in Svartalfheim, Alfeim, or even Midgard, war is coming if the signs read true.

“I would, that even now I could show you all of our armories, treasuries and museums. Gifts I would shower upon you for no treasure within my own realm is as great as that which you have given me this day. If you should find Thor, tell him that King Hadgrim Grumblemace sends his regards, and that it was an honor to fight with him in Jotunheim long ago.”

“You have met Thor?” Jonah blurted out.

“Aye young man, friends we were once, but alas, my fighting days are behind me. I fear that I shall never see the thunder god or the shining towers of Asgard again.”

“So the tales are true…I will do as you ask if ever we find Odin’s realm,” Atungitok said amazed.

“Ye seek Odin do you?” He shook his head slowly. The old king seemed as if he wanted to say more, but he finally appeared to make up his mind about something before he continued. “Aye, I found Asgard, and for a time I lived there in peace after the battles in Jotunheim. But my love, Lucinda, was here, and my people were here. One day, I was summoned home with the ill news of the death of my father. But that is another tale for another time.”

Raphael spoke to the king now. All of the party were able to understand him as if he spoke English, Dwarvish, Gnome and Inupiaq all at once, “Prepare yourselves King Grumblemace, for I fear your grandson will not repent, and the loss of both the Rod of God and the Gnome King’s Heart will further enrage him. We ask only for a guide through your realm to the path beyond.”

“It is a great honor to meet two more of the great god Poseidon’s brothers while I yet live. You are right about my grandson; he is headstrong beyond reason, I fear. Fare thee well god brothers of Poseidon.”

“Nay, great King, we are not gods, but are rather the sons of the one true God. Gabriel, Poseidon, Odin, and I are but four of the twelve Sons of the Morning, the Archangels of Heaven.”

The King considered Raphael’s words carefully as he stared wide eyed for a moment before answering, “Hundreds of years of religious traditions cannot be unwrought in but a day, but the dwarves will consider your words if peace finds us once more. Like the gnomes we have worshipped Poseidon since the time that he saved Dveorger and Zwerg from the one we do not name. Are the legends true that the ‘Fallen One’ is your brother as well?”

“Yes, Satanel, the Great Deceiver, The Father of Lies, The Lord of the Flies, Lucifer, or Satan is our older brother, the one that you do not name,” Gabriel interjected.

The King nodded in understanding, then made a motion for one of his captains to come to him and whispered something in his ear. The commander saluted and called a soldier forward who had stood only two rows behind the king in his personal guard.

The captain introduced the dwarf soldier as the king’s nephew.

“Prince Hammerhand has been assigned the important and honorable task of escorting you through the dwarf kingdom to the Sealed Gate.” The Legion Commander seemed to try and emphasize the importance of the assignment.

Festok Hammerhand appeared young as far as a dwarf goes; his beard was somewhat sparse, and was shorter than the king or his cousin, Gormund. He bore the emblem of the royal house upon his shield. He preferred to use a one-handed weapon, a war hammer that was smaller and easier to wield than the mace of his grandfather or his the crowned prince’s double handed axe. He was not quite to his full stature.

Jonah reasoned, based on the facial expressions, and tone of voice that the dwarf captain had used, that perhaps, the King may have made this assignment to keep his young nephew out of the pending battle.

“Hammerhand will escort you through my Kingdom. You will be given safe passage; even Atungitok will be protected in my realm in the presence of the prince,” King Grumblemace said.

Hammerhand appeared somewhat dejected to be left out of the battle. His uncle seemed to note the disappointment on his nephew’s face as he stood once more. He handed the glowing gem to his son as he limped over to his nephew. He placed his left hand upon the young dwarf’s right shoulder. The red light of the giant ruby danced across their faces as he spoke.

“Nephew, my sister’s son, war will likely be in your future. Be not too quick to seek for battle or to take a life, Festok. You are young. You have many lives of mortal men to earn your title. Remember that the legacy of a king who brings peace may be held in higher regard than the title of a king who defeats his enemies, although his name and deeds may be sung less often in the mead halls. More citizens survive to praise a king of peace than a king of war.”

The King released his hand from his nephew’s shoulder and turned back to his throne. Before sitting he took the great ruby back from his son once more. He held the gem overhead with his right hand and extended his large mace towards the gnome side of the cavern with his left. He cried out in a voice which echoed throughout the great chamber, “Aternerk Sangliak, come if you will! Come to your doom or withdraw in peace my daughter’s son!” As the dwarven Lord held the enchanted weapon overhead, golden runes of power that were etched upon its red surface began to glow. The blue light ran up his arms. His eyes momentarily took on the same glow until he lowered the mace once more.

The king sat back down slowly appearing in some pain as he did so. He laid his mace upon his lap once more as he lowered the gem until it rested upon the padded arm of his portable throne. He appeared weary from the efforts he had just made. Looking up at his nephew, a weak smile crossed his wizened face before his gaze returned to the great ruby. “The Dwarf King’s Heart,” he said quietly to himself. Only Prince Axebringer stood close enough to hear the king’s remark, but he nodded in agreement at his father’s words.

Hammerhand seemed to perk up at his uncle’s comments and smiled. He turned to lead the way through the ranks of dwarf soldiers who created a path in their lines. The defenders stared in wonder at Gabriel, Raphael, the great polar bear, and the Dire wolf as they passed through their rows making their way to the first gate.

Angelica paused as she looked at Atungitok, who had stayed behind and was staring with a painful look towards the gnome kingdom and the army of his people that gathered beyond the wall of ice. She walked back and put one hand upon his small shoulder before asking him, “What’s the matter?”

“I realize now that I can never return so long as Aternerk Sangliak lives. Many of my friends and kin will likely not survive this day.”

The lone gnome guard who remained on the bridge alive was escorted to the dungeons. After noticing a look of concern from Atungitok, the dwarf captain said, “He will be treated fairly.”

Gabriel and Raphael took on their human forms, as did Lorne and Nanuk, before entering the dwarven city. Jonah and Angelica offered Lorne and Nanuk their parkas, as Hammerhand instructed a pair of dwarf maidens inside the city gates to provide proper apparel for the human shape-shifters.

The people inside the city stared at Atungitok with angry looks upon their faces as he walked by. Stocky children stopped what they were doing, gawking at him as if he were some sort of fairy. To the youth, gnomes were only known in stories passed down by their parents, or from the city guards who took turns at watch upon the walls, or from merchants who had gone to the bridge in times past to trade.

War drums and battle horns echoed through the cavern coming from the gnome side of the Great Divide.

Hammerhand sighed. He stood a moment longer, looking back through the outer gate. Finally, he turned towards the party and said dissapointedly, “Follow me.”

As the small group of outsiders followed Hammerhand through the city, they heard the deep bellow of the war horns of the defenders, which were shortly followed by the fading sounds of battle.

The half-gnome chief, having heard the warning of his grandfather and knowing that his enemy now held the fabled gem of the gnomes, took a great stone hammer that had been brought to him by his men, and after three mighty swings, driven by his rage, he finally broke through the frozen barrier.

Aternerk Sangliak looked like an undead, dwarven, warrior. The Gnome Chief’s face was torn and bloodied. The flesh hung from his jaw, revealing his teeth and bone. Blood ran down his armor. He breathed heavily from the exertion of breaking through the thick wall of ice. Mist came from his breath through his mouth, his nose, and the tear in his cheek. His pain was now forgotten in his rage. He was fey beyond reason, and his eyes were wild. He turned to face his men as he stood upon the edge of the causeway. He drew his great two handed sword from where it was sheathed across his back and raised it high overhead with his right hand. The runes upon the weapon glowed red as did his hand and his eyes. It gave him an unholy look as he cried out in a bellowing voice.

“Fear no arrow, feel no pain, kill the dwarves our gem regain!” The gnome chief bellowed as he led the charge.

The cries of the gnomes rose in fervor as they bounded up the steps and across the causeway towards their enemy. The stocky, armored, defenders beat their thick shields and pounded the ground with their steel boots, as they yelled their glee at the chance for battle. Archers lit the steely, sharp, points of arrows that had been dipped in pitch before shooting them into the mass of gnomes heading their way. The tiny attackers were turning invisible and then could not be targeted. However, there were so many small soldiers that the feathered shafts often found their mark, and the small warriors would regain their visibility as they fell.

The clash of armor and weapons echoed through the city as the gates were shut and barred. King Grumblemace was carried to a fortified hill which stood between the city and the ravine where he could be both protected and at the same time have a good vantage point of the battle. There was a hanging walkway that led from the hillfort to the wall above the first gate. If needed, the King could be whisked away across the planks held by ropes rather than risk opening the main entrance. Once he was safely across this escape route the woven lines would be cut, thus preventing the invisible enemy from following. Any attempt to assault the entrance to the city would be met by crossfire from the hill fort and the defenders above the outer wall.

The old warrior held the giant ruby in his hand as he watched the battle progress, its red light radiated outward through the cavern.

In his rage, Aternerk Sangliak disregarded the Archangel Gabriel’s warning and his own safety. He became invisible, and as fate had it, none of the arrows struck him where hardened armor could not turn them from their feathered flight. He quickly outpaced his guards across the stone crossing and struck the closest defending soldiers, who could not see his attack until it was too late.

The front ranks of his enemy cried out in dismay as they fell, wounded or dead from this invisible crazed assailant. With the strength and size of a dwarf, but the speed and invisibility of a gnome, there were none the equal of Aternerk Sangliak, the Strongest of All, that day. As the first dwarven soldiers fell, the front ranks of the Chief’s guard caught up to their leader and began hacking at the feet and legs of the larger, bearded, warriors through gaps in the their shield wall.

The Gnome Chief, being larger and stronger than any of his army, carved a path through the front ranks of defenders. Cries of pain and dismay rose from the fallen. The dwarves yelled in their frustration at not being able to see their attackers. Gnome archers who were further back on the bridge stopped on either side to fire dark shafts, leaving the center of the bridge open for infantry to advance. Their arrows could only be seen after they were released from their bows while the little warriors were invisible. Although most of the sharp tipped, implements of death were deflected by the dwarven shields and armor, some found their mark and began to take their toll upon the ranks of the defenders. The cries from the wounded and dying filled the air. Sounds of metal on metal reverberated through the cavern as the dead lay in the blood and the gore.

The gnomes, being swift and light-footed, could easily dodge the fallen as they sprinted towards their enemy. The dwarves were much larger, stronger and heavily armored, but their shield wall also made it difficult to swing their weapons. Those to either side of where the Gnome Chief had gone began to break rank.

Aternerk Sangliak saw his opportunity and took advantage of the vain attempts to stab at this invisible wraith. He jumped over the second row of enemy soldiers who could not see him. He found his mark on the exposed necks of two of the archers as he jumped over them, and their heads fell off their torsos without so much as a scream. The eyes moved as the mouths seemed to be trying to cry out to their comrades for aid, but no sound would ever breach those lips again.

Prince Axebringer saw too late the danger. He called the king’s guard to come in close with spears facing outward in a circle surrounding he and his father. He signaled his captain to blow a horn to close ranks. His soldiers began to come together until the gap in their defenses was no more. Thus, the Gnome Chief, was now cut off from his army. The larger defenders continued to stab blindly at their invisible assailants and the thrusting spears of the dwarves sometimes found a mark. Losses were had on both sides, but at this point, the battle seemed the worse for the larger combatants.

Shouts and cries rose from the wounded and dying as ever more gnomes crossed the overpass, making their way between the bodies, the blood, and discarded weapons. There seemed to be no end of tiny attackers coming from their gates and crossing the stony causeway. Like an army of angry ants, they came on, while the defender’s numbers dwindled. Their reinforcements were now behind closed doors of iron.

The prince waited a moment longer before he raised a red flag. A horn blew from the battlements on the first of the three city walls in response to his command. Catapults which were stationed on the taller, second wall began to fire geode stones at the bridge. The round rocks had holes which had been drilled into their hollow cores and the cavities within were filled with chalk. As the stones struck, they crushed the gnomes who now had nowhere else to go for their army had packed itself upon the stone walk-way from end-to-end. They were trapped between the battle at the fore and their troops that were crowding them from behind.

The hollow stones broke apart, releasing white powder and sharp crystals that flew in all directions. The gnomes cried out in dismay as they were covered with fine dust. The explosions of shattered rock tore into any exposed flesh of the previously invisible warriors. Some of the little attackers were knocked from the bridge, screaming as they fell into the lava far below.

The charge faltered as they stared at one another now appearing like an army of small wraiths. Those still waiting to come onto the bridge were now being pushed back or trampled upon by those who turned to flee.

Any attackers left upon the overpass could now be targeted by the dwarven archers, as cries of pain and dismay rang out across the cavern. Gnomes fell with red feathered shafts sticking from their backs as they fled.

Aternerk Sangliak, seeing his men fall at this unexpected turn of events, howled in rage. Without fear of his personal risk, he made the greatest leap ever recorded amongst gnomes or dwarves to the top of the wall of the hill fort. He stood atop the battlement, invisible still, breathing heavily, covered in sweat and blood, as his heart beat mightily in his chest. He looked once more upon the Gnome King’s Heart and King Grumblemace, his grandfather.

Prince Axebringer sensed the hidden assailant was near and swung his axe blindly in a circle over his father in a vain attempt to stave off the attacker. Stone Cleaver missed its mark as the assailant was just out of reach.

Suddenly King Grumblemace cried out in pain as his right hand fell from his arm, severed at the wrist as blood spurted forth in gushes from the stump.

Prince Axebringer stared in shock.

Aternerk Sangliak caught the Gnome King’s Heart before it struck the floor. He kicked the prince back into his soldiers and thrust his dagger to the hilt into the neck of his grandfather. He reappeared to allow the king time to see his killer holding the Gnome King’s Heart.

King Hadgrim Grumblemace’s eyes were wide with disbelief, before his body finally slumped forward, falling heavily to the stone floor.

Aternerk Sangliak enjoyed his victory a moment longer. The Gnome Chief turned and jumped back to the wall of the rampart and was just preparing to turn invisible and leap to the ground below when he cried out in pain.

Prince Axebringer had recovered and swung his mighty axe into the back of his nephew with such force that its steely blade, long forged in the dwarven smithies, sliced through both armor and bone.

Aternerk Sangliak cried out as he looked down at the curved blade protruding through his breastplate in wide eyed disbelief as blood ran down his armor like crimson streams. He had drawn his sword as he leapt to the defensive wall. The enchanted weapon now glowed red, but he was unable to bring it to bear as the Prince stood to his rear and his uncle’s axe held him fast. The King’s guard thrust their spears into the sides and back of the assailant as he cried out in pain once more. The Gnome Chief’s body leaned forward over the battlement, but was prevented from falling by the dwarven weapons buried deep within his stout, broken torso. The red glow faded from his eyes as Crimsonfell tumbled to the ground below with a clang, its light extinguished.

Blood ran down Aternerk Sangliak’s chin and beard from both his mouth and the gaping hole in his left cheek. Death was near. His heart threatened to explode within his chest. He stared at his army in dismay as his soldiers fell, covered in white chalk.

The dwarven army rallied and began to advance across the bridge as the gnomes retreated behind their gates. Aternerk Sangliak looked once more into the great red ruby of his forefathers as it illuminated his face in a cascade of dancing light.

At last, the sacred gem fell from his lifeless fingers, unmarred as it struck the hard, cold, floor with a thud. It rolled with the grinding of the facets across stones until it came to rest with a clunk against the armored boot of King Grumblemace. His son paid it no regard in his grief as he sobbed, holding his dead father in his arms.