Dreygan, the last of the Frostgiants, awoke from his rest and, as his daily custom was, went to see Firungwáfi in his den Handuvandûr. Then he perceived with incomprehension that the gangworm had escaped. His wrath rose in his throat. He let out a roar of rage. The white hairs of his head and beard stood out like icicles. He went back to Onskabâ and seized Gantzor, brandishing it before him. He set out down the great passage, following the track of Firungwáfi. He passed into the side turning leading to the cleft. How great was his rage when he found himself obliged to crawl on hands and knees through the hidden doorway! A chill spread around him as he surveyed the ruined orchard of the Kabadri. Finally his frosty eye took in the great mass of the fallen iceworm, Firungwáfi. In a few great strides he stood by the head of the dragon and with an expert pass of his great gloved hand he ascertained that Firungwáfi was beyond hope. Then again he roared mightily and smote the rocks with Gantzor. Ice sparks flew.
At that moment the two Kúmi Netári approached slowly, with their hawk-vizors raised respectfully. But when Dreygan perceived them he bellowed:
Guardians by name, gulls by nature
Firungwáfi have failed to keep!
With Gantzor Dreygan shall give reward
To slothful servants with sword of ice.
At this the Netári were alarmed, though the hawk-headed ones were full of their own powers and were not accustomed to fear the wrath of Dreygan. Angash spoke:
Some mighty master has wrought this deed,
Ice-smith’s equal, an evil felon.
Let fierce Dreygan be informed truly
Of Firungwáfi’s freeing and fall
From mouths of Kabdath, miserable slaves.
Dreygan made no reply, but began roaring again, and with giant strides he rapidly traversed the cave Kabadkabâ and ascended the stone steps. The sound of his fury went before him and all the Kabadri in the great hall fell on their faces and covered their heads with the hoods of their cloaks. The hawk-faced ones came behind the Ice-smith and hastily brought from a side chamber the great chair of lordship on which Dreygan was wont to sit when he visited his servants, the Kabdath.
Down on this seat sat Dreygan the Ice-smith. His face was white with terrible anger. He placed Gantzor the Coldsword, glittering with deadly menace, on his lap. Then he gave a sign with his hand.
Rime the truth-runes, let trial begin.
Slaves shall witness what wight ventured
Firungwáfi to free and feed with ruin.
There came the eight Netâka runewives, who stood around the prone figures. Stretching out over them their dark right hands they chanted the Mumliphân, the Truth-rune:
Si gyust a gyurn war kunadîn
An skurt tir-nyûs uvatta stîn
Gyidûma bliz hin fyûti sûd
War thîzan klath gyithîta rûd:
Mikhan-dâ fir nivlin tyâth
Dâbu brankin bullingâth!
Fûzimaitë,
Patyivaitë!
Wilbing arguskamingâth!
As these words sank into their ears, the four Kabadri began to writhe in pain and scrabble at the rocky floor of the great hall. Their mouths moved with soundless cries. Then Angash, chief of the Netâka guardians, said:
Slaves of Dreygan, swear by the staves
Of the nine Netáka renowned in Kapgar
That you had no hand in this heinous deed
And tell what wight was the worm’s looser.
Then Grekkonanaskon, raising his head from the floor, and gasping, replied:
By the staves we swear, and say truly
That we hold in dread the Great Dreygan.
No Kabáda broke the bonds of iceworm
Or, traitrous, tempted to taste frostsap.
A fellgiant foe of fearless Dreygan
Shattered shackles, showed us his shape
And gloated with glee at our ground’s ruin.
Old Fúdrofûr was that foe of Dreygan—
At the name of Fúdrofûr, Dreygan leapt to his feet, his face again twisted with rage. He stretched out his right hand in which Gantzor was grasped so that it seemed to hover over the Kabadri with doom.
No more need I, Northerland’s king,
Hear labourers’ tales. Lord Fúdrofûr
Shall rue this ruin. Wreak shall Gantzor
Revenge on vandal. And you vile servants
Iceworm needs not: idle dwell not,
Leave halls empty and exile embrace!
Dreygan paused for a brief moment to command the Kúmi Netári in the Deep Tongue. The meaning was only too clear to the Kabadri. Then wielding Gantzor and muttering curses, Dreygan passed from the hall. And Angash said:
The great Dreygan gives his slaves
Entire freedom to fare away
To any harbour save enemy lands.
One hour only is all he grants
To gather goods and get them gone
To hasten hence to a homeland new.
The Kabadri stood for a moment aghast. Then, weeping silently, they scattered to their several dwellings and chambers, and thence, carrying hastily filled bags and boxes, down through the great gate to bring forth their animals from the stables and byres carved out of the rock. After the last Kabáda had left the great hall, the hawk-headed Netári swung the great gates of Kabadkabâ closed.
Dreygan the Frostgiant clothed himself in his frost cloak, so that he might sustain a long journey in the upper world. Then he harnessed his goatbeasts, draught animals far greater than any goat herded by humans, to his wain. There were six of these mighty creatures, carefully groomed by the Kúmi Netári, and they could rival any warhorse for speed. With whip in one hand and Gantzor in the other, Dreygan set off in furious haste for the mountaintop home of Fúdrofûr. Although the day was wearing away, he intended to travel without stopping by night and day to carry out his vengeance on the fellgiant Fúdrofûr.
The hawk-headed Kúmi Netári bolted the great gates of Kabadkabâ to prevent the return of any of the Kabadri. Then they rapidly ransacked the mansions and chambers of the Kabáda realm. The Netáka runewives were the more ruthless for they thoroughly stripped every room and dwelling. That which was of worth they took away. What they deemed worthless they destroyed.
The party of despoilers then made their way down the wide stairway to the cavern of the frostberries. They skirted around the hideous mound that was the carcase of the Iceworm. Soon their task would be to separate that carcase into stuff that could be put to good use: hide, bones, and teeth. There was a ready market for such things among the Angûthégri of Nanôr.
They approached the cleft leading into the passage leading back to Onskabâ. It was the habit of the runewives always to look out for things to purloin or destroy, and as they passed that way, one of them, whose name was Bavális, noticed something on a ledge just her own height close to the cleft. At once she darted to seize whatever it was. Two things: she held them high, with glinting eyes.
Whose but the Drumster’s are these Dragonhide gloves?
Whose star crystal was crushed by Dreygan?
Who cursed Dreygan but the Deeps’ Drumster?
Who is slier than snake but Slungandi?
Who gave freedom to Firungwáfi?
And that surfeit he took, sealing his doom,
Was Slungandi’s trick, secret traitor.
It took but a moment for the truth of the words of Bavális to persuade the minds of the hawk-headed ones. Then Angash and four companions hastened back to Onskabâ, to mount and set off as fast as they could for Mount Zôyeglummi. If they should overtake Dreygan, they would be obliged by their oaths of loyalty to tell him that Slungandi, not Fúdrofûr, was the destroyer of Firungwáfi, and so to defend him from a deadly combat. But they did not favour that outcome. They were anticipating the downfall of the last ruling Gangri.
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