Felix looked around, panting more with reaction to the sudden short combat than from the effort. He wanted to see whoever it was who had aided them and thank them.

"Be very still!" said a deep, guttural voice. "You are inches away from death."

SEVENTEEN

THE LAST DWARFS

Felix froze. He tried not even to blink his eyes, let alone breathe. He had no doubts that whoever was lurking in the shadows meant what they said, and he had no desire to find his body bristling with crossbow bolts.

"Are you dwarfs?" Varek asked, with what Felix thought was more curiosity than common sense.

"Aye, that we are. The question is: what are you?"

A massively broad-shouldered dwarf strode into view in front of them. He was garbed in leather armour, huge metal shoulder pads protected his upper torso. A winged helm with cheekguards shielded his face. Slung over his shoulder he carried a crossbow. A heavy warhammer dangled from a loop on his belt. He removed the helmet to peer at them and Felix could see that his face was craggy and his eyes were feverishly bright. His beard was long and black shot through with silver. There was an unnatural leanness about his face such as Felix had never seen in a dwarf before.

He sauntered around the four of them and inspected them with a casual air that was almost insulting. Felix could tell that Gotrek and Snorri had their tempers barely under control and if something was not done soon, murderous violence would ensue.

"Two of you look like Slayers," the newcomer said. "One of you has the look of Grungni's folk. The other, the human, must die."

Almost before Felix realised that the dwarf meant him, the newcomer had unslung his crossbow and pointed it directly at his chest. Felix found himself staring at the glittering point of a crossbow bolt.

As if in slow motion he saw the stranger's finger begin to squeeze the trigger. He knew he could never throw himself aside in time but his muscles tensed for the attempt.

"Wait," Gotrek said softly and there was such a note of command in his voice that the newcomer froze. "If you harm the manling, you will surely die."

The other dwarf laughed harshly. "Those are brave words for one who is in no position to back them up. Tell me why should I spare him?"

"Because he is a Dwarf Friend and a Rememberer, and if you kill him your name will live long in infamy and will be recorded in the Book of Grudges as a fool and a coward."

"Who are you to speak of the Great Book?"

"I am Gotrek, son of Gurni, and if you cross me in this matter I will be your death."

There was cold certainty in the Slayer's voice that commanded belief. Gotrek added something in dwarfish, which caused the newcomer's face to flush and his eyes to widen.

"So you speak the Old Tongue," he said.

Felix heard a shocked murmur from around the hall, and suddenly realised how many other dwarfs were watching them.

It seemed inconceivable that such a large force could have moved through the tunnels with such stealth. He risked glancing around and saw that several score of lean, weary looking dwarfs had emerged from the gloom. All of them had weapons pointed at the party, and seemed prepared to use them. He could see that their wargear all had the same look, as of something that had been patched and reused many times over.

A brief spirited debate followed in dwarfish between Gotrek and the newcomers. Felix looked over at Varek. "What is being said?"

These dwarfs think that we are agents of Chaos. They wanted to kill us. Gotrek has told them that we come from outside and that we can help them. Some of them don't believe it and say it is a trick. Their leader says that he cannot risk killing us and that it is a matter for his father, the king himself, to decide."

To Felix this seemed like a very bald summary of what was obviously an impassioned debate. Voices were being raised. Harsh guttural oaths were being sworn. Both Gotrek and the dwarfish leader had spat on the ground in front of each other's feet. It was an odd sensation to know that his very life hung in the balance and that he could neither say nor do anything to influence the decision. He was reminded of being on the airship during the great warpstorm. All he could do now was remind himself that they had survived that, and might survive this.

Varek continued to mutter: "It is only the fact that we speak the Old Tongue which keeps them from killing us out of hand. They do not want to believe that any follower of Chaos could have learned it. Certainly no dwarf would teach them."

"That's reassuring to know," said Felix.

The argument ended. The dwarf leader turned and spoke to Felix in strongly-accented Reikspiel.

"I do not know if this tale of flying ships and other wonders is true. I only know that this is too grave a matter for me to decide. Your fate is in the hands of the king, and he will pass judgement on you."

"I still say it's a trick, Hargrim," said one of the other dwarfs, an old, miserable-looking fellow with deep set eyes and a beard of pure grey. "We know that the world outside is ruled by Chaos. There are no other dwarfholds left. We should kill these interlopers, not lead them deeper into our realm."

"You have had your say, Torvald, and my decision stands until the king himself overturns it. If the world has not been overrun by the forces of Chaos, this is indeed momentous news. It may be that we are not the last dwarfs."

"Aye, Hargrim, and it may be that we are fools and dupes of the Dark Powers. But as you say, you are our captain and on your head be it. There will be time enough to kill these outsiders soon, if they prove false."

"The king will know," Hargrim said. "Come! Let us go. We have wasted enough time and I would not want to be caught in these halls if the Terror comes. Bind them and take their weapons."

A group of dwarfs broke away from the main body and moved towards them. As they did so, Gotrek stepped forward menacingly.

"You will take this axe from my cold, dead hands," he said softly and with such menace in his voice that the dwarfs froze on the spot.

"That can be arranged, stranger," Hargrim said just as quietly. Gotrek raised his axe and the runes on the blade flashed in the dim light. The closest dwarfs gasped.

"He bears the weapon of power!" Torvald gasped, and his voice held horror and wonder. "It is the Prophesy. Those are the Great Runes. The Terror has returned and the axe of our ancestors has come back to us. The Last Days are upon us."

A look of shock once more passed over Hargrim's face and he advanced towards Gotrek, his eyes fixed on the blade of the axe. As he read them, a great look of wonder appeared in his eyes.

"Where did you get this blade?" the dwarfish captain asked, then added something in dwarfish.

"I found it in a cave in the Chaos Wastes many years ago," Gotrek replied slowly in Reikspiel. He appeared to be considering whether he should say more, then thought better of it.

"If you are truly a dwarf then you are favoured by the Ancestor Gods," Hargrim said. "For that is a mighty weapon."

Gotrek grinned nastily and scratched one of the Trollslayer tattoos on his shaven head meaningfully. "If the gods favour me, they have shown no great sign of it," he said dryly.

"Be that as it may, such a weapon does not find its way into anyone's hands by chance. You may keep your weapons for now, until the king declares differently."

Hargrim looked at Gotrek for a long time, and what might have been a thin smile creased his lips. "It may be as Torvald says, Gotrek Gurnisson. It may be your coming was foretold. The king and his priests will know."

He turned to his troops. "Come. We have far to go before we can rest, and we do not want to be caught abroad while the Terror stalks the Underhalls."