Rise of the Blood Masters (Book 5) by Kristian Alva

Vardmiters, then why grow so angry at the mere mention of them?”
    Skemtun huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not! We’re makin’ do. Besides, those turncoats wouldn’t be any help to us anyhow. They can’t fight worth a damn.”
    “Are you so sure about that? Your leadership has consistently underestimated the strength and resilience of the Vardmiters. You seem to believe that simply because you have a few skilled warriors, you’ll be victorious. If war comes to your front gate, Mount Velik will be at a considerable disadvantage without their manpower.”
    “Nay, that’s a load of rubbish! The Vardmiters don’t have any proper fighters. We have lots of trained soldiers. Lots! They don’t! I’m tellin’ ye—we don’t need the Vardmiters. We’re doing fine without ‘em.”
    “That’s not true. The Vardmiters might lack resources, but they’re very industrious and capable of surviving tough conditions. Mount Velik is at a considerable disadvantage without them. I mean…don’t they even have their own spellcaster now? One that serves them willingly?”
    Another pause. Skemtun coughed and cleared his throat. “Well ...yes,” he admitted. “They do have one spellcaster. Name’s Mugla. But she’s very old. Probably even senile. But enough about that! I don’t want to talk about them anymore. They’re a bunch of traitors.”
    “Not everyone believes that, you know. I went to Highport recently. Utan described how horribly they were treated here. Is it any wonder they left?”
    Skemtun frowned and bit his lip. He really didn’t want to talk about this, but he managed to subdue his rising anger and tried to change the subject again. “If the orcs attack us, we’ll defend the mountain. Our clans are strong. We have enough warriors to fight the greenskins.”
    Kathir lowered his voice. “Having trained warriors isn’t enough. Your clans have a bigger problem than the threat of war, and that is one of internal conflict. How can you defend your kingdom against an outside attack with so much civil unrest within? The division between the dwarf clans places the security of the entire eastern seaboard at risk. That’s why I was sent here—to warn you and the other clan leaders.”
    “We’re strong enough to defeat the orcs,” Skemtun insisted again, keeping his arms locked against his chest. “We have enough men.”
    “Perhaps. Perhaps not. What if another clan decides to leave Mount Velik as the Vardmiters did? The remaining clans won’t be strong enough to defend this mountain against any outside attack, much less the orcs. The dwarf clans are more vulnerable now than they’ve been in centuries.”
    “Look, I still don’t see how our problems affect Miklagard. What do the white wizards care about dwarf politics?”
    Kathir sighed and rolled his eyes. “Can you really not see it? Everyone else can. The orcs are multiplying like rabbits. In the past, the orcs kept their own population in check by participating in vicious death-battles, but King Nar has outlawed them. Their numbers have exploded, and they’re looking for new lands to conquer. The orcs are testing the boundaries of their territory. The dragon riders killed several small bands attempting to cross the northern border of the desert. They’re ready for war. If Mount Velik falls to the greenskins, then the orcs will have a stable foothold in the east. If they capture Mount Velik, they’ll control the east and the northwest. Once that happens, they’ll march on the capital city. Morholt is heavily fortified, but there’s no way the city could stand the onslaught of two huge orc armies. And, if Morholt is conquered, it’s only a matter of time before Parthos falls too. The orcs could overtake the entire continent in a decade. But in order to do that, they need to conquer Mount Velik first, and they know it.”
    Skemtun exhaled and shrunk back on his stool. The horrible possibility became clear under Kathir’s waiting gaze. For the