The Great Betrayal by Nick Kyme

between the holds.
    Few did, because most believed a dwarf’s place was below the earth. Unlike the underway, however, the skyroads were not the lair of monsters. Great eagles and other flying beasts were a menace but stocky watchtowers punctuating the long spans provided warning and protection. Trolls and greenskins couldn’t touch these vaulted pathways.
    Some engineers had even built ships to travel across them, great propeller-driven longboats that carried cargo and dwarfs by the score. Wind shear made widespread use of these ‘sky ships’ untenable as many had been torn off the skyroads in a strong gale and dashed on the ground far below. But despite its dangers, upon such a bridge a dwarf could literally walk the skies.
    For Heglan it was as close as he could come to doing just that.
    Until today.
    ‘Quite a sight, aren’t they?’ said Nadri, breathing deep as he regarded the monolithic skyroads.
    ‘Aye, they most certainly are, brother.’
    ‘I have heard standing upon them a dwarf can see the entire kingdom, from Karak Azgal in the south to Karak Ungor in the north.’
    Like his brother, Heglan inhaled a full breath of the high mountain air and closed his eyes, remembering.
    ‘Indeed he can, but such a magnificent vista will pale compared to what I have in mind.’
    Nadri clapped Heglan on the shoulder.
    ‘Ever with your head in the clouds, eh, Heg?’
    Unlike his brother, who wore a leather apron with a belt of tools fastened around his ample waist, Nadri was more finely attired as befitted a merchant guildmaster. His tunic was gilded and he wore a small travelling cloak fashioned from the very best hruk wool of the mountains. His leather boots were supple and tan. The many rings upon his fingers shone in the occluded winter sun.
    Nadri stroked his ruddy beard. It was well preened and beautifully studded with silver ingots that bound up locks of his hair.
    ‘Father would have been so very proud,’ he said, and gripped Heglan’s shoulder a little tighter.
    Lodri Copperfist was dead, slain by urk over a decade ago during one of the High King’s purges of the mountains. Grief had brought his only sons closer, despite the very different paths they had taken.
    ‘He loved the skyroads, Nadri. Just like grandfather.’ Heglan’s beard was unkempt, more brown than red and tied together at the end with a leather thong. Most casual observers would not think them kin, but the bond between the siblings was stronger than gromril.
    For a moment, Heglan was overtaken by a wistful mood. In his mind’s eye, he soared through the heavens with the wind on his face, buffeting his beard as he flew. Birds arced and pinwheeled beside him, the sense of freedom overwhelming…
    Burgrik Strombak brought him back to the ground with a stamp of his foot.
    ‘Earth is where dwarfs are meant to be,’ he said, a pipe stewing between clenched teeth. ‘Under it or over it, but never flying above it.’
    The engineer guildmaster cut a formidable figure. Two mattock-like fists pressed against his broad waist and a thick leather belt filled with tools crossed his slab chest. Strombak knew engines like no other dwarf of Barak Varr. Most of the sea wall defences on the side of the hold that faced the Black Gulf were his design. A circular glass lens sat snug in his left eye, which he used to scrutinise the young engineer before him.
    ‘What about the sea, master?’ asked Heglan, bowing deferentially. ‘Dawi can sail the seas too, can they not?’
    ‘You ask me that question in a Sea Hold. Have you hit your head, Heglan Copperfist?’
    Heglan bowed again, deeper this time. ‘I only meant that the horizons of our race have broadened before and will again.’
    Scowling, Strombak leaned in close. ‘You are fortunate King Brynnoth can see a military use for this machinery of yours.’
    Heglan shook his head. ‘No, master. Its intended use is for trade, prosperity and peace, not as an engine of war.’
    ‘We’ll see.’
    Strombak