Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [18]
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"A thousand lines of doggerel and I'm no closer to understanding this axe," Geildarr complained. His study was littered with handwritten notes scattered on tables and pinned to the walls, and the subject of it all-the battle-axe-still lay across his desk. Ardeth lingered on a few notees.
"Black feathers fall at the open blade," Ardeth read. "With the name of Uthgar on the lips of both friend and foe, eggshells shatter under the kingly might. A revenge is repaid near the sacred site." Then another: "Tharkane's hands on the shaft as the nations clash under tree the eldest. Blue Haloan's blood spoils the foliage. The people of the forest look on but do not present themselves."
"Interesting spell, this one," Ardeth said. "I thought you'd simply cast it and it would tell you what you need to know about the item. Naive of me."
"Divinations, my dear," said Geildarr, "are like Alaundo's Prophecies. They always make perfect sense in the clear light of hindsight. Understanding them beforehand is more difficult. The problem here is that this axe obviously has a very long history. I think it goes back as far as Delzoun, and it hasn't been lying in the dust for all those years, by any means. It's had a very active life. Many stories." He rested his hand on the axe head, curling his fingers over the blade enough to feel its sharpness.
"Learning the stories is just the beginning," he went on. "The legending spell doesn't always tell the truth-just the legends people tell, or used to tell."
"And those can be untrue," said Ardeth.
"Right. And sometimes the legends leave out the most important parts of a story. Each new casting gives me a fuller understanding and allows me to ask more probing questions, but the problem in this case is that there's so much story to cover."
"You do have quite a library on the next floor," said Ardeth. "Is more research necessary?"
"I've called you here for research," said Geildarr, "but not the kind that uses books. Let me show you what I know. I've sorted the notes into several categories." He indicated a pile of scribblings on the desk before him. "First, my discoveries about the axe's creation. It was forged in Delzoun and given as a gift to somebody who helped rid the dwarves of an enemy. But the rescuer had powerful enemies of his own." Geildarr rubbed his chin. "I'm going to try some other divinations about this figure, but I suspect that he's the one called 'Berun.' There's a Berun's Hill south of Longsaddle, related or otherwise,
"But here's what interests me the most. There are various hints that Berun is some sort of leader of men, guiding his people west from 'fallen skies, dead gods, and rising sands.' Sounds like Netheril to me-some mass migration after Karsus's Folly. This one-" Geildarr scanned his desk and snatched up the appropriate note "-may describe new dweomers being woven into the axe that ties it to something else, some kind of object or artifact that alters the axe's power." Geildarr read his scribbling aloud. "Joined as one the axe and heart by the stout folks' spells, a link forged cannot be undone. Swells the power of both, and both in Berun's hands now leave the underland." Geildarr smirked. "Bad poetry, but intriguing divination."
Ardeth giggled. "A Netherese artifact?" she asked. "Do you know anything more?"
"I'm still attempting some divinations. But beyond the important bits about the axe's creation, most of the legends describe typical adventuring stories-beheading dragons, slaughtering giants, that kind of thing. The clear majority of what I've uncovered is of this sort. Who knows if they're true?"
Geildarr drummed his fingers on the table. "But it scarcely matters. The sheer volume of the tales means the axe has had a very active history. I've even gleaned that it's been in the