The War of the Dwarves (42 page)

The maga’s measurements were incredibly precise. Most of the plates fitted perfectly, and a tap of the hammer brought the
others into line.

Once the fit of the armor had been verified, Balyndis could set about patterning the armor as the maga had prescribed. Some
of the runes were to be engraved, others etched with acid, and thin strips of gold and silver hammered into the grooves.

Since starting work, Balyndis had noticed a strange noise, similar to a growl, that seemed to be coming from Djer
n, although
his chest was completely still.

To Balyndis’s surprise, his warm breath smelled fresh. She had expected him to stink like an orc, so either the smells of
the smithy were masking the stench, or Djer
n was cleaner than she had thought. There was no obvious evidence of perspiration,
whereas a man wearing a full suit of armor could be smelled from a hundred paces or more.

Balyndis worked swiftly. She strapped the plates around his arms and instructed him to flex his muscles while she listened
intently. The joints were perfect—no grating or creaking to indicate rubbing or stress.

Relieved, she climbed down from the platform and returned to the anvil. Lifting her blindfold, she reached for Djer
n’s helmet.
The shiny demonic visor contrasted strikingly with the matt surrounds, and a thin strip of black tionium emphasized the ferocious
eyes. Proudly, she wiped the helmet with a cloth and added a drop of oil to the hinges.

“All done,” she called, not knowing whether the giant could understand her. “If this isn’t enough to frighten your enemies,
I don’t know what will.” She tied the blindfold around her head and picked up the helmet, remembering to collect the skullcap,
made of leather-lined mail. With her free hand, she felt her way along the rope leading back to the giant.

Just then disaster struck.

Balyndis stepped on something, probably a lump of coal. Her foot slid away from her.

She skidded, overbalanced, and flung out her arms to break her fall. The helmet whizzed past her, one of the spikes coming
within a knife’s edge of her eye. It snagged on her blindfold and pulled it off.

The next Balyndis knew, she was sprawled on the floor, arms stretched in front of her, skullcap and helmet clutched in one
hand. Raising her head, she looked up and froze.

Djer
n was leaning against the anvil in front of her—and her blindfold was off.

Balyndis had seen some unpleasant sights in her time. She had fought in gruesome battles, dueled with hideous orcs and plug-ugly
ogres, and waded in rivers of blood and spilt intestines. As a warrior, she was unshakable; but the visage before her filled
her with terror.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream.

Massive fangs protruded from Djer
n’s jaws, strong enough to bite through the toughest sinew and crush the strongest bone.
The giant’s skull resembled that of a human, only many times bigger, and his skin looked pale and sickly, revealing the yellow
blood in his pulsing veins. He had no ears, and his nose consisted of two triangular holes.

His enormous eyes bored into the stricken dwarf. Slowly, he straightened up, walked over, and reached out an armored hand,
the fingers of which could crush boulders.

He knows I’ve seen him. Dear Vraccas, he’ll kill me.
Balyndis tried to run away, but her stomach was cemented to the ground.

His fingers closed around her mail shirt and lifted her into the air. Trembling, she let go of the skullcap and the helmet,
but Djer
n caught them before they hit the floor. He strode toward the platform, deposited Balyndis on top of it, and placed
the skullcap and helmet in her hands. His little finger stretched toward her, sliding the blindfold over her eyes.

She blinked in confusion.
He spared me!
The strange growling noise resumed, which she took to mean that Djer
n was ready for her to continue. In any case, it was
clear that she was never to mention that she had looked on his face.

Taking a deep breath, she commanded her trembling fingers to be still. A little clumsily at first, then with more assurance,
she fitted the skullcap and lowered the helmet over his head, removing her blindfold as soon as the terrifying visage was
hidden behind the gleaming visor. Sighing with relief, she got down from the platform and took a few paces back to admire
her work.

Djer
n drew himself up to his full height.

Balyndis felt a rush of admiration for the giant. He seemed to like his new armor—and if he didn’t, he made no objection.
The maga’s illegible writing had forced her to deviate from the instructions on several occasions, but Djer
n seemed happy
with the result.

She had half expected her improvised formula to end in disaster, but the armor looked fine.
Vraccas and Samusin be praised!

Bowing to acknowledge her skill, Djer
n picked up his weapons, returned them to their sheaths, and marched to the door, his
armor gleaming darkly in the flickering light from the many hearths.