by Allan Joyal
I rolled my eyes. Heather was now laughing so hard she had to sit down before she fell over. "Other than the fact that I believe she's older than me, and I've only known her for six days? The truth is that I have no idea if any man could keep her from acting up. She's from a place where women tend to be very independent."
"Are all of the ladies with you like her?"
"No," Heather managed between giggles. "Elizabeth is the only one who's that independent. None of us would be simpering lapdogs, but she's definitely the only pit bull we have."
"Oh yes, Eddie is a little rat terrier compared to her," I muttered causing Heather to fall over laughing.
The man looked very confused. "I'm guessing that you are describing personality types, but I've never heard those terms. Anyway, you can go on, we have to return to our watch."
"Good hunting," I replied as I helped Heather to her feet. The men had already faded back into the shadows by the time Heather was standing. She brushed some dust out of the skirt she was wearing.
"Get the back, please," she requested, turning around. I complied, trying to get the dust off the skirt. When my hand was at waist level, she pushed her ass into my hand, rubbing it back and forth with a giggle.
I pulled my hand back in shock and turned away. Heather hissed and put a hand on my shoulder, her gentle but insistent grip keeping me from storming away.
"Ron..." she whispered. "Please, don't shut me out. I was just playing."
"Really," I replied acidly. "And you play by rubbing your ass on a stranger's hands?"
Heather gave me a push, causing me to stumble forward. "You're no stranger. You are my friend, the protector and leader of our little band and someone that I admire. I couldn't lead like you do. And the others," in the corner of my eye, I saw Heather shiver. "Elizabeth would have argued with any of the men we've met so far and probably got us all killed or arrested. Eddie would have never gotten us to the first town, let alone here. The others follow you. They don't have the ideas you do."
"I'm just trying to find a way home, or make one if I can't find one."
Heather said no more as we reached the main street with the market. Even early in the morning many of the stalls were open and the merchants calling out to customers. The assault on my ears was brutal, and I ducked my head as I weaved through the crowd.
The people parted as I made my way through. At this hour, most were moving quickly, only stopping at a specific booth or table before heading back the way they came. Still, more than once the crowd around a popular stall forced me to detour around in order to make my way to the outer road.
I felt hands grabbing at my belt and once a man attempted to rip the crossbow from my hands as I fought through the crowds. Finally, I had managed to kick and push my way to the outer road, and I stepped out of the crowds. I turned around to find Heather stumbling out behind me.
Heather stepped away from the crowd. She turned back with an angry snort. "And I thought Christmas shopping at Wal-Mart was bad."
"Problems?" I asked.
"Just a lot of very grabby hands," Heather said. "I'm sure there are a few bruises." She got a mischievous expression on her face. "Want to kiss them better later?"
"No!" I spat out before turning and breaking into a jog. Heather's laughter drove me along as I watched the buildings for the two banners I had been told about.
I spotted the banner for Montferlyn's fairly quickly, but decided to continue to the building housing the local dwarf representative. I had walked past five buildings before I realized I had clearly missed the banner.
I stopped and looked around. This part of the city was quiet and at first I saw no one walking around. Heather had caught up to me and was glancing around in confusion when I noticed a stocky figure entering a building about three doors back from our current location.
Heather noticed my gaze and immediately took off toward the building. I followed at a slightly slower pace, looking more closely at the building. The banner I had been looking for was hanging on the wall just next to the door. Dust and dirt had covered the fabric and obscured the gems. My first impression was that the banner was simply a hammer striking a shield, but as I approached I could see a rock wall hidden under the stains.
Heather reached the door first. She opened it and stepped through, following the stocky man. I tried to step through, but had to stop abruptly as Heather was standing motionless just past the door. I did manage to squeeze by her to see two short, stocky and bearded men glaring at us.
"If you have business, speak it," one said gruffly. "If you're going to stare, we just might decide to see if we can bounce you completely across the street."
I put a hand on Heather's left arm. "I'm terribly sorry. My associate here has never seen a dwarf before. Please forgive her unconscionable rudeness."
Heather turned to me, hissing my name in anger. At the same time, the two dwarves relaxed slightly.
"A fine and respectful greeting from you sir, if not from the female you came with. So what business do you claim to have with the dwarves?" the same one spoke again.
I held out the crossbow. "I guess it's easiest if I start with this. I believe this was made by your people."
The dwarf who had remained silent stepped forward. Both were intent on the crossbow so I took a moment to look them over.
The idea of ever meeting a real dwarf had never crossed my mind, so I had little idea what to expect. The men themselves were maybe just over four feet high, with the tops of their heads not reaching my shoulders. They had greasy black hair, covered on top by a solid appearing metal helmet. Their garments were clean leather and fit tight to stocky bodies that were heavily muscled. The only part that fit my imagination was the long braided and beaded beards. The silent one was running a finger through his beard while looking at the crossbow.
"Clan Whitlow work," he affirmed. "Where did you get it?"
Both of the dwarves were staring at me, and I felt my throat go dry. Taking a deep breath, I began. "About six days ago my friends and I stumbled onto the site of a massacre. A mixed band of humans and what we guessed were dwarves had been wiped out, but the ones who killed them had left everything behind. This crossbow was one of the items we took from that site."
"You robbed our dead?" the quiet dwarf said. His right hand disappeared beneath his beard.
Every instinct screamed at me, telling me to turn and run, but I quashed my fear and stood. I thrust the crossbow forward. "I came here didn't I? I told you the truth about where I found this crossbow. We came to show this to you, so you might inform your clan and others of what happened. We didn't count the bodies, but there were four that my friends and I suspect were dwarves."
"Suspect?" the other dwarf said.
I glanced over at Heather and noticed her trying to slide backwards towards the door. Holding still and not running was increasingly difficult, but I gritted my teeth and spoke. "They had been cut below the jaw. It was as if their killers wanted to remove beards. Also three had elaborate metal armor covered in runes."
"What happened to their armor?" the first one growled.
"Two days later, one of my friends saw it bundled up and leaning against the wall of an inn about a day's travel from the massacre site. My friends and I were frightened away just after we picked up the crossbow. The group that came after us appears to have stripped the bodies," I admitted.
"So you left our people lying on the ground."
"As well as over a dozen humans," I said sadly. "The other group would have attacked us. We listened to them when they first got to the site, and they were talking about killing the men in our group and taking the women. We were outnumbered and decided to retreat."
"That's a nice way of putting it, Ron," Heather muttered.
The two dwarves spun to face her. "Explain your comment!"
Heather jumped back in surprise, her mouth opening soundlessly. One of the dwarves advanced between us, stopping in front of the door. A mournful expression came over Heat
her as she looked back and forth between the two dwarves. Finally, I could see her back straighten just a bit.
"You have to understand that we aren't from anywhere close to here," she began. "From what we've been able to piece together, a wizard was casting a spell and it misfired. The magical backlash brought some sixty people to a temporary magical clearing up in the mountains,"
The two dwarves snorted. I found myself staring at Heather. "Interesting analysis," I said to her. "How did you come up with all of that?"
Heather smiled. "Well, remember Madam Wessera told us about how the village stiffed that young wizard, and then he vanished into the mountains. From the facts she gave us and a couple things Elizabeth learned, it's pretty clear that the wizard was probably exactly where the dragon launched from that morning. I don't know much about magic, but if the wizard was interrupted, that might explain how three elevators ended up in that clearing, and how the clearing shrank only a short time later."
The dwarves snorted. The one in front of the door pulled a nasty looking knife from under his beard. "This isn't explaining what you meant by your comment."
"I'm getting to that," Heather replied acidly. "As I said, we found ourselves up in the mountains in a magical clearing. Ron suggested that we leave, and a group of us joined him. Another group also formed and left the clearing in a different direction. Well, late that afternoon we stumbled on this battlefield at a crossroads. Everybody there was human or dwarf, there was no sign of who they fought, but it was clear there were no survivors on the human side. We had arrived with almost no equipment, so Ron and a few others started taking a few items that we could use. We hadn't grabbed much when we heard a large body of people moving on the road. We left the road through a hole in a thicket. The route we used led to a clearing that was almost directly below the crossroads, but the thicket kept us from being noticed. We could hear the group arrive at the battlefield and realized it was the other party. But they were openly talking of killing Ron and the other men in our group."
The dwarves nodded. "So you didn't exactly retreat so much as leave before a fight could occur," the one by the door mused.
"Not like we could have fought. At the time I had pulled a spear from the fingers of one of the men, and another of our group found an axe. Those were our only ready weapons, and it could have been the original killers returning," I said.
The dwarves glared. "But you saw the runed armor later?"
"Yes," I said. "The next day we stumbled on a mining village up in the mountains. We stayed that night in an inn run by Galmin. In the morning we woke to discover the other group had just entered the tavern. We fought our way out and left town, while they treated their wounded. Several of our friends saw the armor sitting outside the inn."
"And you didn't grab it?" the dwarf by the door responded with another growl.
"Um..." Heather interrupted. "I know this is probably bad timing, but can we go around and name ourselves? It would be nice to know who I'm talking to. I'll start. I'm Heather, and my fearless friend over there is Ron."
"Fearless?" the dwarf by the door snorted. "Maybe by pitiful human standards. I be Serglim son of Sarglim of Clan Skyve."
"Kolfaex son of Kalfaex also of Clan Skyve," the other one said.
I turned to Serglim. "I didn't know the armor was there until a bit later, I was the last to retreat and was concentrating more on making sure there was no pursuit. By the time I thought we should have, it was far too late to try."
Serglim pointed at the crossbow. "So are you claiming that?"
"Not really," I said holding it out. "I'd love to get some kind of reward for it, perhaps an exchange for a lighter crossbow that we can load quickly. However, it doesn't really belong to us. We found it but I'm guessing it's valuable to your people."
Kolfaex started laughing. It was a gravelly scratchy sound. His hands came out from under his beard and he held his sides. "Of course it's valuable. Good crossbows are hard to make, but you could have demanded far more than that."
Heather shook her head. "I know that Ron is more interested in making friends and helping the rest of us get home, if we can."
Serglim picked the crossbow out of my hands. He started examining it closely, running a finger over each piece. "You kept it unstrung?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "It added a lot of time to loading, which is a huge part of why I am willing to part with it, but I've used bows before, and I remember keeping them strung is bad for them."
Serglim's eyes opened. "A human with sense," he muttered as he returned to examining the bow. Finally he walked back into the room to set the crossbow on the table. "Herfin! Bring out one of our light crossbows, two dozen bolts, a hammer, and some of those leather things you were working on!" he shouted.
Kolfaex waited for a moment and then nodded. He pointed into the room. I could see a low table surrounded by four chairs. Two of the chairs had shorter legs, but otherwise they were all of the same utilitarian style. "Let's go sit down," he said.
Heather and I walked over. There we sat down in the taller chairs as Kolfaex and Serglim claimed the short ones. The shorter chairs and bodies of the dwarves meant that Heather and I had to lean forward, but it was comfortable, and I saw much of the tension leave Heather's shoulders.
Serglim looked over at me. "So, I'm guessing you are planning on visiting the Wizard's Academy the humans are so proud about. Are you expecting them to help you?"
"No," I replied, looking Heather in the eye. "But if we don't at least make the attempt, I'll always be wondering if they could have sent us home."
Kolfaex nodded. "Home must be very far for you then."
"We are from a different world," Heather admitted. "Where we come from, dwarves are only found in stories. The only magic we see is fancy tricks played by starving street entertainers."
"Some of them are hardly starving in the streets," I muttered causing Heather to smile.
"Don't worry. Even here there are entertainers with no magic who can fool royalty into believing they know real magic," Kolfaex said.
Serglim was rubbing his chin with his right hand. "Do you know the route to the Wizard's Academy from here?"
"No," I admitted. "One of our goals over the next three to four days is to view some maps and plan our route. We understand that several armies are going to be marching to war soon."
Serglim turned. "Herfin, bring up our map of the human lands!"
A moment later another stocky figure dashed up. He stood about three foot nine, but already had a beard that came halfway down his chest. The boy dropped an unstrung crossbow and a leather sleeve on the table. I could see the fletching of several arrows sticking out of the sleeve. "I'll get the map now," the young dwarf said before dashing off.
Serglim watched him go. I could see a spark of affection in the dwarf's eye. He noticed and turned to me. "My sister's son. Good lad and intelligent. He's being trained to handle trading and negotiations with humans."
I nodded. "If the men of Jord are like the ones from my world, it's difficult to negotiate with them. Too many are driven by base instincts."
Kolfaex snorted. "Dwarves can be just as greedy as any human. We just hide it better." He noticed a glare coming from Serglim, but merely glared back. "What? These two have been more honorable than most humans. And I don't think they are going running to the mayor to cause trouble for us."
Herfin headed off any argument by arriving with a large map. Serglim turned to Heather. "Take the crossbow from the table, miss. We need to spread the map."
Heather froze for a moment, but removed the crossbow and quiver. Serglim then tossed the map into the air, and it billowed out to cover the table. I found myself leaning forward to get a closer look.
The map was not much like a map from earth. It was drawn in ink on what looked like cowhide. I was looking trying to identify nation boundaries as Serglim picked up a stick that had fallen on the floor when he unfurled the map.
Serglim lifted the stick and used it to
point at a mark on the map. I looked and could see four lines combining at a black spot. The black spot was next to a wider line that wandered past it and then opened up into an expanse marked by wavy lines.
"This is Linktrum," Serglim said just as I realized the same. "As you can see it's on the banks of the River Ochre."
Serglim moved the pointer, following the line that ran upriver, paralleling the waterway. He stopped at the next city. "This is Rivergate. Normally I'd recommend that you travel here to cross the river, but right now that won't work. The baron who rules over Rivergate is going to war with the monarchs across the river. If you tried to cross here, you'd most likely be captured and treated as spies."
The pointer returned to Linktrum. "You'll have to cross at the ferry, just past where the two rivers meet." The pointer again exited the city and started moving upriver only to cross the river at a dashed line. "From here the Wizard's Academy is about two weeks march."
The point followed a new line, twice taking the right fork at branches. The first fork was close to the river, but the second appeared to be a couple days travel into the plains. The new road roughly paralleled the river from a great distance before finally ending at a blob of ink that I guessed indicated a large city. Serglim tapped the pointer on this spot. "That's the city of the Wizard's Academy. Right on the banks of the Dunbalne River."
Heather was gazing at the map. "That's a long way upriver," she said.
Kolfaex offered one of his gravelly laughs. "It's not as far up as you think. And the Dunbalne River runs wide and deep from there to the sea. The Wizard's Academy has a large dock that accepts ships from all over the world. The monarchs hate that, but as long as the Academy maintains its neutrality none will attack them."
"Will there be water?" I asked.
Serglim snorted. "Don't be daft. No sensible person drinks water. Pack some of that pale squeezings your human friends call ale. It won't get you drunk, but it won't get you sick either."
"Welcome to Africa," Heather muttered. "We'd like to remind you not to drink the water."