A raised dais dominated the far end of the chamber. On the dais was a throne bearing a powerful and majestic figure wearing long robes over heavy armour. Two priests flanked the king. One was a priestess of Valaya. Felix could tell that by the fact that she carried a sacred book. The other was armoured and carried an axe, and Felix wondered if he was a priest of Grimnir, the warrior god.

As they came closer to the dais Felix got a better look at the dwarfish king. He was old, as old as Borek, but there was nothing feeble about him. He looked like an aged oak, gnarled but still strong. The flesh had fallen from his arms but still there were massive knots of muscle there, and his shoulders were broader even than Snorri's. His hair was long and red, although striped through with white. His beard reached almost to the floor and it, too, was white in places. Piercing eyes glittered in deep-set sockets. Felix knew that this dwarf might be ancient but his mind was still keen.

The weapon that sat upon the king's knees drew Felix's attention. It was a massive hammer, with a short handle. Runes had been cut into the head and something about them compelled the eye to look. He knew without being told that this was a weapon of awesome power, the legendary Hammer of Fate, which they had come all this way to find.

The guard parted in front of them to leave a path leading only to the throne. The four comrades advanced. Varek went down on one knee, making florid and elaborate gestures with his right hand. Gotrek and Snorri lounged arrogantly beside him, making no sign of obeisance. Felix decided to err on the side of caution; he bowed low, then knelt beside Varek.

"You are certainly impertinent enough to be Slayers," said the king. His voice was rich and deep and surprisingly youthful coming from that ancient throat. He laughed and his mirth boomed out through the chamber. "I can almost believe that the cock and bull story you told Hargrim is true."

"No one calls me a liar and lives," Gotrek said. The flat menace in his voice caused the guards to raise their weapons in readiness.

The king raised a mocking eyebrow. "And few indeed threaten me in my own throne room and live. Still I ask your forgiveness, Slayer, if that is what you be. We are surrounded by the servants of the Dark Powers. Suspicion is only wisdom under such circumstances. And you must admit that we have cause to be suspicious."

"That you have," Gotrek admitted.

"You have come to us claiming that you have voyaged here from the world beyond our walls. I would hear your tale from your own lips before I pass judgement. Tell it to me."

"I claim more than that," Varek said suddenly. "I claim kinship with the folk of Karag Dum. My father was Varig. My uncle was Borek, whom you sent out into the world to seek aid."

King Thangrim smiled cynically. "If what you say is true it took a long time for Borek to send aid, and you do not represent much of an army. Still, tell your tale."

The king listened attentively while Varek spoke, stopping occasionally to ask confirmation from Gotrek. He told the tale simply and well, and Felix was astonished at the power of his memory. He also noticed that as the dwarfs spoke the priestess of Valaya's eyes never left them, and he remembered that the priestesses were supposed to have the gift of knowing the truth. At the end of the tale, the king turned to the priestess.

"Well," he said.

"They speak true," she replied. There was an audible gasp from the warriors in the chamber. The king raised his hand and scratched his chin through his fine long beard. He considered them for a moment and then smiled grimly.

"Now tell me, Slayer, how you came by the Axe of Valek," said the king.

Gotrek's answering smile was as grim as Thangrim's. "Its owner had no use for it, being dead, so I took it. Do you have a claim upon it?"

"The person who carried that blade from here was my son, Morekai. He sought to cross the Wastes and find out if anyone still lived there."

"Then he is dead, Thangrim Firebeard. His corpse lay in a cave on the edges of the Wastes. It lay surrounded by the bodies of twenty slain beastmen."

"There was no one with him? He left here with twenty sworn companions."

"There was only one dwarf. I buried him according to the ancient rites, and being in need of a weapon at the time, I took this one. If it is yours, I will return it to you."

The old king looked down and grief entered his eyes. When he spoke again he sounded as old as he looked. "So he died alone at the end."

"He died a hero's death," Gotrek said. "He paved his road to the Iron Halls with the bones of his foes."

Thangrim looked up once more and his smile was almost grateful. "Keep the blade, Slayer. Such a weapon is not owned. It has its own doom, and it shapes the destiny of its wielder. If it is in your hands now, it is there for a reason."

"As you say," Gotrek said.

"And you have given me much to think on," Thangrim said wearily. "And my apologies for doubting you. Go now. Rest. We will talk again later."

"Prepare apartments for our guests," he shouted. "And feed them of our finest."

Felix could not help but notice that there was a note of bitter irony in the king's voice.

Felix stared at the fish suspiciously. It was large and it looked well-cooked, yet there was something odd about it. After a few moment's consideration he realised that it had no eyes. The meat smelled good and everyone else was eating it, yet he kept thinking of the things he had seen in the Wastes, of the mutants and beast-men, and of all the things he had been told about warpstone dust. He just could not bring himself to eat a mutant fish, and he knew there was good reason for this.

By all accounts it was possible for mutation to be passed on through eating mutated food. It was said that the worst mutants were always cannibals who fed on other mutants. He had no desire to put this theory of mutation being contagious to the test.

"It's blindfish, manling," said Gotrek from across the table. Felix realised that the Slayer must have seen the look on his face and understood what was going through his mind. "It is naturally this way. Dwarfs have feasted on it since long before the coming of the Darkness. You can eat it."

"It's a delicacy, actually," Varek added. "In the dwarfholds we breed them. They dwell in the deep cisterns. We feed them on mushrooms and insects."

Somehow this knowledge did not make the fish seem any more appetising. Unaware of the effect he was having, Varek continued to speak. "They live in darkness. Some loremasters think that is why they have no eyes. They don't need them. Try some."

Felix speared some on his knife and lifted the flesh up for examination. It was white and tender looking and when he tried it, it was delicious. He said so.

"It can be monotonous," said Hargrim, who was sat on the other side of him. "We live on mushrooms and bugs and blindfish. There are times when I wish I could have something different."

Felix dug into his pack and produced a strip of beef jerky. Hargrim looked at it just as suspiciously as Felix had inspected the fish. "Try some," Felix said.

Hargrim took some and began to chew. Eventually he managed to swallow. "Interesting," he pronounced carefully.

Snorri laughed. "Now the blindfish doesn't taste so bad after all, does it? Here try some of this to wash it down."

Snorri handed over a flask of Kislevite vodka. Hargrim swigged it down. For a moment, he looked like he might actually cough but then he recovered and smacked his lips and took some more. That's better," he said.

Felix emptied his pack onto the table. There was waybread and cheese and more jerky. It added to the mushrooms cooked in blindfish oil, the blindfish itself and the jugs of water. "Help yourself," he said.