The warriors of the assembled races thumped their shields and banged their weapons together.

"We must rid our hearts of hatred. Our past battles are just that: They belong in the past and are best forgotten. This orbit marks the start of a new age: one of peace, cooperation, and friendship." He held his ax aloft, and the other monarchs rose to their feet to pledge a new era of friendship.

This time his speech was met with deafening cheers. Swept away by the excitement, Balyndis planted another kiss on Tungdil's lips. Even in the last moments of the battle she hadn't known whether or not they would succeed, and now she was overcome with gladness and relief. "You must be really proud," she said.

"Proud of what? Being a thirdling?" he retorted, only half joking. His voice was edged with resentment.

"Proud of being the only thirdling to save the dwarven folks instead of trying to destroy them." She smiled. "Come on, Tungdil, we're lucky to have made it alive."

He thought of Narmora and Furgas lying side by side in the stronghold. They would have shared a different fate if Andфkai hadn't summoned the last of her strength to invoke a healing charm. Dwarven physicians were still tending to their wounds. Then there were those who had been gathered to Vraccas's smithy: I haven't forgotten you, Bavragor and Goпmgar.

He looked up to see Gandogar pointing straight at him.

"But above all we owe our thanks to Tungdil Goldhand," announced the dwarven king. "Step forward, Tungdil."

Nervously, he obeyed.

"Take a good look at him, for without Tungdil, without his stubbornness, his ingenuity, and most important, his unshakable faith in our mission, none of us would be standing here today. Without Tungdil Goldhand, Nфd'onn would have killed or enslaved us all."

Suddenly it seemed to Tungdil that every dwarf, elf, and man on the Blacksaddle was staring at him. He blushed and felt terribly embarrassed. He reached down and rested a hand on Keenfire, which made him feel slightly less shy.

"We will never be in a position to repay our debt," said Gandogar gravely. "But know this: For as long as you live, Tungdil Goldhand, I will do everything in my power to satisfy your every wish."

Liъtasil turned his slender, graceful face toward him. "We have never numbered among the dwarves' closest friends, but we are beholden to you, Tungdil Goldhand. We too will grant you whatever you desire."

The human sovereigns swore similar oaths of gratitude while Tungdil squirmed in embarrassment.

"Prithee, stop, Your Majesties," he interrupted.

Boпndil rolled his eyes. "Here he goes again. Wake me up when he's finished."

Tungdil took a deep breath. "You don't owe me anything. My only wish has been granted already: All I want is for dwarves, elves, and men to come together in friendship, not war. You pledged an end to our quarreling, and what more could I desire? Gold and riches count for nothing without peace. I can't accept your gifts, but I shall gladly accept your thanks, especially on behalf of my companions, Bavragor Hammerfist of the clan of the Hammer Fists and Goпmgar Shimmerbeard of the clan of the Shimmer Beards. Bavragor and Goпmgar risked everything for Girdlegard, and they paid the highest price. Keenfire would never have been forged without them."

The elven lord inclined his head toward him. "You speak with the wisdom of a true leader, Tungdil Goldhand. If ever we are in danger of resuming our old rivalries, you must remind us of the oaths of friendship sworn today. You will always be welcome in Вlandur."

There was thunderous applause from the warriors, who hammered on their shields, sounded their bugles, and cheered tirelessly. Tungdil scurried back to Balyndis's side.

Boпndil pretended to scowl at him. "Show us your tongue," he demanded. "I bet you've talked it into knots."

Tungdil just grinned. He was happy that his lessons in rhetoric had been put to proper use.

After a while the assembly dissolved and the allied armies retired to the stronghold to celebrate their victory and negotiate their newfound friendship.

Balendilнn and Gandogar joined the others. "What an orbit this has been!" the secondling king said happily. "Who would have thought it would turn out so well?" He thumped Tungdil on the shoulder. "Vraccas sent us the dwarf of all dwarves, and if anyone cares to dispute it, I'll set up another contest with five new tasks." He laughed and the others joined in.

Gandogar noticed that Tungdil's jollity seemed a little forced. "Is something the matter?" "It's nothing."

"No, something's wrong. Is it because you think you're a thirdling?"

"I am a thirdling! How else could I have awoken Keenfire's power?"

"Then be proud to be a thirdling, Tungdil," Balendilнn exhorted him solemnly. "Show your kinsfolk, show every dwarf in Girdlegard, that Lorimbur's descendants aren't all as dastardly and conniving as Bislipur and Glamdolin. Incidentally," he added with a mischievous smile, "were you planning to return to Ogre's Death or is there somewhere else you'd rather be?"

"Balyndis and I won't be going to the firstling kingdom, if that's what you mean," he said, grinning bashfully. "We're both smiths at heart, and our interests and experiences have soldered us together. We've decided to go to the Gray Range. Boпndil's coming with us and we'll pick up Boлndal on the way. I promised Giselbert Ironeye that I wouldn't abandon his kingdom and I intend to keep my word."

The rising winds carried a foul smell to their nostrils. It came from the plains around the Blacksaddle, where the corpses of ogres, orcs, bцgnilim, and дlfar were strewn. The combined army of elves, dwarves, and men had laid waste to the enemy battalions. A few undead troopers had survived the massacre, only to lose their lives forever with the defeat of the Perished Land. Their corpses were rotting in the winter sunshine, but the carnage would soon be frozen overnight.

"It will take time to bury all the bodies," Gandogar said grimly. "I hope the earth can suffer so much death."

Rodario joined them, quill and notebook in hand. "A magnificent finale for a play, don't you think? Too many corpses for practical purposes-we'd never fit them on stage." He stopped making notes and extended his hand toward Tungdil. "It was a privilege to accompany you. If you find yourself in Mifurdania, be sure to visit the Curiosum. We'll be celebrating our grand reopening." He winked at Tungdil. "As the star of the show, you'll qualify for free admission-and Balyndis as well."

"When are you off?"

"As soon as my prop master and my leading lady are fit to ride. A fortnight or so, I expect. In the meantime, they've found room for us here."

Andфkai strode toward them. "Djerun and I are leaving. I need to get back to my realm and find some new famuli."

"Why the hurry, dear heart?" Rodario said lightly.

The maga refused to be drawn. "I don't want to spoil the mood."

"Impossible!" he declared with overblown enthusiasm. "Nothing could spoil a victory like this!"

"I wouldn't be so sure." Her lips were unsmiling. "What if Nфd'onn wasn't lying after all?"

"About the western peril?" The impresario laughed incredulously. "My dear lady, you shouldn't be fooled by a cheap trick like that. You disappoint me!"

"Say what you like, but I intend to be vigilant." She laid her hand on Tungdil's arm. "At least I'll know where to find Keenfire and its valiant bearer, should Nudin prove right." At last her stern face relaxed. "You're stubborn enough to take on any kind of peril single-handed," she told him.

She took her leave of the company, giving everyone except Rodario a long embrace. He pouted and stalked away, only to turn after a few paces and wave. "Farewell, enchanting maga. I shall take your advice and devote my attentions to women who know how to appreciate me-and believe me, they do!"