The hour was late, but fire was still burning in the hearth in advisor Glunri’s study. Glunri himself was sitting behind a massive oak desk. He leaned his head against the tall back of his chair and kept his short, stocky fingers crossed over his pot belly. On the other side of the desk, between the hearth and a bookshelf, sat a dwarf with blue eyes and brown beard on his expressionless face. He could have been a hundred years younger version of Glunri.
”Naíf sent Deli to Amon Hen”, said the younger dwarf. ”He thinks you are keeping secrets from him, father.”
”It seems so, Flogi”, Glunri admitted pensively.
”What would you have me do, father?”
”Wirlun sent Kimrin to Amon Hen almost four weeks ago. Naíf sent Deli to the same place last week. Both Kimrin and Deli are investigating a rumor, a fragment of an overheard discussion, about King Thráin’s possible survival. Those old ruins are about to be teeming with dwarves, and I want you to travel there too. I want you to make sure neither Kimrin nor Deli will ever return to Zigil-jâbal.”
Flogi stared at the older dwarf with a big, round head, blue eyes and darting white eyebrows. Flogi had lost his mother at an early age, and for as long as he could remember he had been trying to impress his aloof, forbidding father. And for as long as he could remember, Glunri had regarded his son with almost scornful indifference. Glunri’s attitude towards his son had not changed before Flogi had reached adulthood and started to make a name for himself as a formidable warrior, gradually earning himself the title of the champion of Zigil-jâbal.
Flogi’s martial prowess was of course useful to Glunri, but even more useful was Flogi’s blind loyalty and devotion to his father and his burning desire to win over Glunri’s love and acceptance. To this day Flogi had always done everything Glunri asked him to do without question.
But this! Flogi was not sure if he had understood the meaning of his father’s words correctly. Was Glunri really suggesting he should commit murder on his own kith and kin, was he asking him to… kill Kimrin and Deli? It sounded as if he had suggested that, but…
”Father?” Flogi stammered. ”Can you please be more specific? How do I ’make sure’ Kimrin and Deli won’t return? Surely you can’t mean that you want me to k…”
”Enough!” Glunri raised his hand dismissively. ”I don’t care to know how exactly you achieve it, but Kimrin and Deli must not be allowed to return to Zigil-jâbal and tell Naíf whatever it is they will find at Amon Hen. Perhaps you can talk to them and somehow convince them that they would be happier living somewhere else, if you think you can manage it. But if either of them ever returns to Zigil-jâbal from Amon Hen, they will ruin your father’s life and reputation, do you understand? And not only mine, they will ruin your life and future as well. So maybe think about that, hmmm?”
”But I don’t understand”, Flogi said in a low voice. ”What is there at Amon Hen that’s so dangerous to us? How do you know about it? What is this all about?”
Glunri glared at his son. ”That meddling fool Wirlun has made quite a mess of things. Nobody was supposed to know where I sent Gulim and for what reason. And nobody still knows exactly, but that idiot drunkard Dwormur heard enough to make things complicated. First Wirlun sent his cousin Kimrin to Amon Hen, and a few weeks later Naíf sent Deli. And that’s the last thing I need right now, those two buffoons snooping around at Amon Hen!”
”But what about Thráin? Is the old King of Durin’s Folk really alive after all these years? What is it you don’t want Kimrin and Deli to find at Amon Hen? Is Thráin really there?”
Glunri was quiet for a moment. ”Thráin is dead”, he said after a while. ”He died a long time ago. If you really find someone at Amon Hen who claims to be the King of the Longbeards, understand that he is an impostor, a charlatan, who must be punished for his fakery and malicious tricks. Do you understand? If you meet a dwarf who makes such false claims, it is your responsibility to mete out justice and execute the impostor on the spot!”
Flogi was baffled. ”But who exactly is this impostor, as you say? For clearly it is someone you know, or have known in the past!”
Glunri fixed the stare of his glowing blue eyes upon his son. ”That is a question I cannot answer, Flogi. Not yet. For now you must have faith in your father and trust that everything I do, I do for the good of my family. That means you and me, Flogi, and the legacy I will leave behind for you to pass on to your own children when you have them.”
”Cannot answer?” Flogi asked. ”Or don’t want to?”
Glunri blinked. ”If I said ’yes’ to either question, it would be too much information for you at this time. I want you to leave Zigil-jâbal as soon as you can. Leave first thing in the morning.”
Flogi had received his answer in his father’s reluctance to give it. And the answer was ’I don’t want to’.
Flogi felt depressed and did not move in a while. It was still warm in the study, but the fire in the hearth had begun to fade and would die soon unless someone fed it with some more wood. But the hour was late, and Flogi knew that the conversation was almost over.
He thought about Deli, the Longbeard champion from Ered Luin. Flogi had grown up listening to stories about great dwarven warriors, and Deli had been one of his childhood heroes. He still remembered how he had aspired to be like Deli when he grew up. He did not want to kill his childhood hero. He did not want to kill Kimrin either, who was a distant relative to him and a fellow Broadbeam.
Perhaps he could talk to them, make them listen to reason, make them promise to never return to Zigil-jâbal. Because if they would not, he would have to challenge them both to a duel to death. That was the way of the dwarves. He did not doubt the outcome of the duels. Deli had been a great hero in his time, but he had become old and slow while Flogi was still young, strong and fast, an expert with an axe and a renowned champion of Zigil-jâbal who had already made a name for himself as a great hero among dwarves. Flogi did not doubt he would emerge victorious from a duel against Deli. Kimrin would not even stand a chance.
”What about Gulim?” he finally asked in a deflated tone.
”You don’t have to worry about Gulim at all”, was his father’s only response.
