Archmage Read Online Free PDF Page B

giant.
    And a dark elf named Drizzt Do’Urden.
    “Lorgru,” Sinnafein explained to the dwarf kings. “Lorgru, who would have become the next King Obould had not Warlord Hartusk usurped the throne.”
    “The retreating orcs flocked to him in the mountains, so said Drizzt,” Catti-brie put in, and Sinnafein, whose scouts had told her the same thing, nodded her agreement.
    “Lorgru ain’t for shieldin’ the dogs from me boys,” King Harnoth proclaimed. “If he’s looking to take up the fight, Adbar’ll finish it for him!”
    “Aye, but I’d like his ugly head on a pike outside our western gate,” Oretheo Spikes added, and other nearby dwarves nodded at that.
    King Emerus and Bruenor exchanged concerned glances. They had known this wasn’t going to be easy from the first reports that the orcs were congregating around the deposed Lorgru in the Spine of the World.
    Bruenor moved up to the central barricade and climbed atop the log. “Put up yer bows, boys,” he called down the line after a cursory scan of the incoming forces. “No threat to be found. Durned elf’d kill ’em all afore ye let yer first bolt fly, if it came to fightin’.”
    The dwarves around him relaxed somewhat, but grumbled, too, more than a little disappointed that the meeting would most likely go off as planned.
    Bruenor turned and held his hand up high. Drizzt responded in kind, and walked his unicorn mount, Andahar, around in front of the leading orcs, halting their progress.
    “Ye with me?” Bruenor asked, turning around. The other three dwarf kings, Catti-brie, and Sinnafein of the elves moved to join him. Aleina Brightlance, who had been given the title and role as Emissary of Silverymoon and Everlund, rode forth as well.
    Out from the other ranks rode Drizzt upon Andahar, along with an orc upon a snarling worg, a goblin shuffling fast along behind them, and the frost giant pacing them with its long strides.
    “Who will speak for the Alliance of Luruar?” Drizzt asked, purposefully and pointedly evoking the alliance that had crumbled with the march of the Kingdom of Many-Arrows.
    All turned to Bruenor.
    “King Bruenor,” said Emerus Warcrown. He turned a sly eye upon his opponents, particularly upon Lorgru. “Aye, that Bruenor,” he explained to the visibly startled orc. “The one what signed the Treaty of Garumn’s Gorge with Obould the First them years and years ago.”
    “I had thought King Bruenor long dead,” the orc leader replied.
    “Well, ye thought wrong, I’m guessing,” Bruenor answered and stepped forward. “Is yerself speaking for them goblins and giants, too?”
    “You are Bruenor?” Lorgru asked, incredulous, for surely the dwarf standing in front of him was very young.
    “Don’t matter who I be,” the dwarf answered. “I’m speaking for ’em, and they’re agreeing, eh?” Behind him, the others all nodded.
    That seemed to satisfy the orc, who nodded, though still wore a confused expression. “I speak for Many-Arrows,” he said.
    “There ain’t no Many-Arrows,” King Harnoth said from behind, drawing winces from several of the others, Drizzt included.
    “The orcs fleeing the field have returned to me,” Lorgru explained to Bruenor. “Never would I have sanctioned such a march against your people, or such a war. It is not the way of Obould!”
    “And where’s yerself been this last year o’ fightin’?” Bruenor asked, suspicious.
    “In the mountains, in exile,” Lorgru answered.
    Drizzt looked at his red-bearded friend and nodded solemnly.
    “My kingdom was stolen from me,” Lorgru continued, “by factions determined to return to the warlike ways of the orcs. I reject those ways! She”—he pointed to Sinnafein—“is alive and free by my choice, though I could have ordered her killed, legally, even by your own laws, for intruding upon my kingdom.”
    All eyes went to Sinnafein.
    “King Lorgru speaks truly,” Sinnafein confirmed. “He would have been within his rights to