by Allan Joyal
"Typical Eddie. Charming until he finds the liquor cabinet." I replied. "Did Heather stop by?"
"She went on in, said she wanted to talk to Esme," Lydia said. She turned to face the entrance to the alley and her eyes widened. I spun to follow her gaze and found Herfin and three other dwarves standing there.
Herfin noticed me. He marched up to me and thrust the hammer I had been offered earlier into my hands. I took it from his hands. With his hands free, he swung a pack off his back and set it on the ground as the other two dwarves approached.
One of the other dwarves handed the crossbow and quiver to Steve. Steve immediately passed it to Lydia. Herfin shook his head at this, but lifted several bundles from the pack.
"Serglim noticed you don't have armor," he said as he handed one of the bundles to me. "This isn't true armor, but it's the best we can do for a human."
I unrolled the bundle to find a leather vest. The vest was covered in metal rivets. It looked like it would fit me, so I twirled it over my back and slipped my arms through the openings.
The vest fit around my chest easily. I pulled it closed and found that I could overlap the two sides by nearly three inches before it was tight against my sides. The neck opening did not fully close, but it appeared that after I tied the laces it would protect my chest better than my shirt.
Herfin nodded and handed me another bundle. This one proved to be a pair of leather gloves. I tried them on. The backs were thick, but the leather on the palm and at the fingertips was surprisingly thin and supple. Herfin pointed to the hammer I had set on the ground. I expected the gloves to hinder my movement, but my palms easily grasped the shaft of the hammer. I lifted it from the ground and experimented with a couple of grips while Herfin watched.
"Good," Herfin nodded. "We didn't know how well protected you are, but I found six sets like this. They are actually mine gear, but it will serve you."
I looked down to find that the dwarves had left ten more bundles on the ground. Herfin then lifted his pack and held it out to me. I had to set the hammer back down before taking it. "And this is your trade goods. Thank you again for the information and the return of the bow. May the veins in your mine be pure gold."
The trio of dwarves turned and left without another word. I stood there stunned by the encounter until they had closed the door to the courtyard.
"Oh my god!" Lydia screamed. "I can't believe I just saw a real dwarf!"
I turned to glare at her. Her face was fixed in a Cheshire grin. She noticed my look and began examining the new crossbow.
"I'll get the others to gather this up," Steve said as he headed into the inn. I wanted to call him back, but kept quiet and looked over at Lydia.
Lydia had already strung the crossbow, and put her foot in the stirrup at the end. She put both hands on the bowstring and pulled up. Her hands shook with effort, but it slid upwards, and she was able to fit it into the trigger mechanism.
"It's not easy," Lydia admitted as she lifted the bow and held it in firing position. "But I can string it. My fingers are sore though."
"Perhaps gloves will help," I suggested.
Lydia seemed about to say more, but before she could Al, Henck, and Steve entered the courtyard. Henck smiled as he approached.
"Nice vest," he said. "It's a bit short on you though."
"Herfin hinted that it was dwarf mining gear. I'm not surprised, it isn't exactly full length," I said with a shrug. "They gave us a replacement crossbow that's much easier to use than the one we had, and a hammer, as well as some vests and gloves. It's much more than I expected."
Hencktor looked surprised. "They usually aren't very friendly. The few times representatives came to the village, they were open in their belief that the mayor wasn't reporting every bucketful of iron mined."
"And they were sure they were being cheated of their fair share," I said with a nod.
Hencktor smiled sadly. "That's how it was explained to me. They suspected everyone too. Galmin was furious that they went up to his guest rooms and tore down the back walls looking for a hiding place."
"I just told them the truth. Heather and I didn't sugarcoat it either. There was no reason to."
A faint twang sang out through the courtyard. Turning to the source of the sound, I found Lydia leaning over to place the end of the crossbow on the ground. She proceeded to slip the string free and allow the crossbow to relax. The crossbow then was flipped over her shoulder. She looked up to see the rest of us looking at her.
"What?" she snapped. "I didn't want to leave it strung and that was the fastest way to release the string. Should I have loaded it and put a hole in the courtyard wall? I'm not sure we could have retrieved the arrow. This quiver only has about twenty and they are shorter than the ones we have for the other crossbow."
"We didn't take those back?" Steve asked.
"No," I admitted. "I didn't even think of it."
Just then Victoria walked out into the courtyard. She smiled at everyone and wandered over. "I saw Heather chatting with the others so I thought you might be back," she said. "How was the trading?"
"I didn't do much trading, as just stopping and requesting. It turns out that the dwarves were very happy to get the crossbow back and appreciated hearing about the armor we saw. The merchant token we had was some kind of blood money apology. The merchants promised to come by later with some items and goods."
"Would one of them be boots?" Victoria asked, looking past me at the gateway between the courtyard and the alley.
"Yes," I said, turning to look at the gateway. A pair of young men was helping pull a cart into the courtyard. Behind the cart a short, bent man with gray hair and brown skin hobbled. He grouchily directed the two men to park the cart just inside the courtyard.
"You brought me here with a message that Montwil wanted some people here to get boots. Get my stool out and find those people," the man hissed.
I stepped forward. "If you are working for Montferlyn's, I head the group you are supplying boots for."
The man looked over my outfit. "You're a free trader aren't you? I can tell. Stupid, useless wanderers who fill women's heads with stories of fantastic lands and days of leisure," he complained.
"Boy!" the old man shouted, turning towards the cart. "Get out my second stool. I can't size someone's foot while they are standing. And then start organizing the boots on the ground in front of the cart. I need you to bring them fast when I call."
The stools were set on the ground by a frantically scurrying boy of about eleven years. The old man took one and glared over at me as the boy began unloading the cart. "Well?" the old man spat, "aren't I here to get boots for you?"
I grabbed Victoria and pushed her forward. "We have several young ladies who need boots as well," I replied. "They deserve to go first."
"Ron!" Victoria hissed as she stood in front of me. She was leaning back against my arms. "You want me to allow that man to touch me?"
"I'm not leaving the courtyard," I said. "And you do need boots."
"Fine," Victoria said huffily. "I'll do it. I can't believe my feet are this dirty though. I'll get you for this."
Victoria strode forward, her shoulders back and stiff. She sat down in the stool with slow care and put her right leg forward so her foot was directly in front of the old man.
The old man lifted Victoria's skirt enough to reveal her bare feet. "Why are you walking around without boots?" he asked.
"I don't have any," Victoria replied. "We were forced from our homes. Ron here took us in, but we had lost everything." She was simpering slightly, and to my surprise the old man relaxed a little.
"Humpf," he said, reaching down and lifting the foot up. He laid it on his knee and using a piece of knotted twine measured the length, width, arch and curve of Victoria's foot.
"Boy!" he said as he allowed Victoria's foot to descend to the ground. "Bring two pair of the small wool socks and a pair of the boots with red heels."
The boy reached into the cart. He
brought out several tubes of woven cloth and then started picking through the piles of boots on the ground. Finally he grabbed a pair of brown leather boots and brought them to the old man.
The old man first took the socks and held out two to Victoria. She took them but was looking at the boots. "I don't see a red heel," she commented as she bent down. She started to feed her right foot into one of the socks.
"I don't mark the entire heel," the old man said. "Originally I did paint a rather large spot on the heels so I could identify them. Now, I don't always mark them. Benjimo there knows what each type and size looks like."
"You keep shouting at him," Victoria observed. She had finished putting the sock on her right foot and was now sliding her left foot into a sock. Her face bore an expression of slightly pained irritation.
"He's my sister's son. My stupid, whore of a sister. She ran off with some useless trader four years ago. Left her farmer husband alone and dealing with four children. I took Benjimo in. Had to, really. He's family, and you can't let them starve," the man said. "You aren't much better."
Victoria gasped. "How dare you imply that sir! I'll have you know that I would never betray any man that way."
The old man leaned back. Shock was written on his face as he stared at Victoria. She was sitting stiffly, her back straight.
Cautiously the man reached out, holding the boots before him. Victoria snatched them away and bent down to put them on. The man just continued to stare. "How can I not?" he finally said, looking up at me. "You are in the company of a free trader. You are barefoot, and while the skirt is nice, your blouse is hardly chaste. You have your hair uncovered. Your outfit proclaims you a tart, free with her favors. Why else would you be travelling rather than at home with your husband?"
Victoria shoved her feet into the boots. I noticed she struggled a bit with the laces, but finally arranged them to her satisfaction and stood up. "I'm with him because when I was snatched from my home and dropped in the mountains, he was dropped at the same time. He happens to have a hope that we can travel to the Wizard's Academy, and they will send us back to our homes. Home for me is where I have a man who's spent the last two seasons courting me. There even was talk of marriage, but the terms of the dowry were still being negotiated," she hissed.
She stomped over to stand by me. Experimentally she flexed her knees and ankles in the boots. I noticed a scowl. "Do the boots not fit?" I asked.
Victoria shook her head. "The man might be a bit insufferable towards women, but the boots feel rather good. It's the socks. They are scratchy. I'll admit they feel warm, but my feet itch like mad right now."
"It's the wool," Elizabeth said. I turned to find everyone had gathered in the courtyard. "We're used to cotton as the base fabric for socks. Wool is warmer, but it has very short fibers. The tips of the fibers are what cause people's skin to itch."
"Can we stop it?" Victoria asked.
"Time," Elizabeth said. "Hopefully over time the itching will go down as your body gets used to the socks and the tips lose their points. That's the only thing I can think of."
All the girls frowned. I clapped my hands to get their attention. "We'll look into that later. For now, we have a man here willing to provide boots. Let's not take up too much of his time. Natalie, why don't you go next?"
Natalie smiled at me and limped over to the stool. She sat down carefully and slowly stretched her right leg forward, pulling the skirt up slightly.
The old man gazed at me with a raised eyebrow. A clear question shone in his eyes. Natalie took this in, and with a shake of her head raised the skirt until he could see the angry healing wounds on her thigh.
"My god!" the old man hissed. "Your man failed in protecting you. How can you stand to be with him?"
Natalie laughed. "Ron over there was the man who saved my life. We were all walking along a river, and the creature that did this jumped across the water. Ron was leading our group, watching for an ambush. I don't blame him for what happened."
The man stiffened in surprise. He measured Natalie's feet. "Boy! Socks and the orange heeled boots."
Benjimo jumped to supply the ordered items. This time the man helped slide the socks on and slipped the boots into place. He allowed Natalie to tie the laces and then held out his arm, offering support while she stood up.
Natalie wobbled for a moment once she was standing. Unlike Victoria, she did not try flexing her knees, but while leaning on the old man for support she did twirl her ankles. The boots must have passed because she walked back towards us before collapsing into Henck's arms.
"How is she really doing?" I whispered to Esme as Lydia ran to the stool and sat down.
"She's acting quite a bit right now," Esme whispered back fondly. "It's clear she'll never run a marathon again, but she can walk without pain. I'd like to give her one more day to rest before we start traveling again."
"That we can do," I responded. I had been watching the old man, and it was clear that Natalie had impressed him. He was much more relaxed as he sized Lydia's feet. Lydia appeared to help that along, by spinning wild tales of our adventures. If he was a bit slower in measuring her feet, the delay was welcome. He smiled as he helped Lydia put the boots on and stand for the first time.
With the man's prickly nature at bay, the rest of the ladies lined up to get new boots. The sun continued its lonely sail across the sky as Martha, Lisa, Elizabeth, Esme, Jennifer and finally Heather sat on the stool and allowed the man to measure their feet. Once they were done, Eddie tried to push his way forward, but I led a reluctant Kariy to the stool. She protested that I was doing far too much for her, but silenced her protests once I pushed her down and held her by her shoulders while the old man measured her feet.
After the girls had received boots, Eddie jumped forward to get his own pair. The old man had considerable trouble fitting boots to the large feet of my former co-worker. The final selection did not satisfy Eddie, who left the courtyard muttering in fury as Al sat down.
Al was much easier for the old man to fit. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he handed a pair of boots to Al. It made me suspect that Eddie could have been fit easily had he not been insufferable as the ladies were fitted. Once Al was standing, the man looked over at me.
"Do you need a pair yourself?" he asked.
I looked at Steve and Henck. Both shook their heads. "I've got new boots," Henck reported.
"I'll stick with the shoes I have," Steve said. "They're broken in."
"It looks like those are all the boots we need at the moment," I told the old man. "We do appreciate all the work you have done."
The man nodded to his apprentice. The young boy began picking up boots and throwing them into the cart. Instead of watching, the old man stood up and hobbled over to stand before me.
"You've got a nice group of ladies there," he told me. "You need to dress them nicer. They look like a bunch of tarts with the uncovered hair and those blouses. And you better treat them right."
I nodded as I slipped a hand into my pocket. I was digging out one of the few drachma coins we had left as I responded. "I do the best I can to protect them and still allow them to be as free as they need to be. I like to think that they are happy."
Steve laughed. "I can think of a couple that aren't as happy as they want to be, but none really want to leave the group."
"Dusty is leaving," Al said quietly. He had walked over to rejoin the group.
I pulled the drachma from my pocket and handed it to the old man. "It's not so much that she wants to stay, but she isn't comfortable with the travel. I didn't ask her where she's from, but it sounds like she's used to a big city. She has found that the hiking across the lands upsets her."
Al put a hand on his chin. "I never thought about that. She told us she's from New Jersey and goes to school at one of the universities in New York City."
Steve winced. "Ouch. To go from a land of big buildings and millions of people to six days where you really only have sixteen people to see and t
alk with. I can't even picture how distressed she might be."
The old man took the drachma, but remained standing in front of me, listening to the conversation.
"She told me she's got experience in restaurants back home, so this might be comfortable. And if the wizards do come through, we can always get a message to her," I said.
The others nodded as I turned back to the man. "Sorry about that, we were discussing a friend."
"She sounds like more than a friend," the old man said. "I just hope you can find a way home for her."
"We're trying, but for that, we have to get to the Wizard's Academy. The boots should help us do that," I replied.
The old man laughed. "That they will." He turned back to see Benjimo throwing the two stools into the cart. "Time for me to get going. I have other customers expecting custom made boots in two days."
"May your needles stay sharp and your leather strong," I said, inventing a parting blessing on the spot.
The old man laughed at this as he hobbled to the exit. Benjimo dashed after him as the two men who had escorted the cart into the courtyard emerged from the shadows and began pulling it away.
No one looked back as the procession left the courtyard. I turned to look at Steve. "Well, we now have boots for everyone, and except for Eddie, they appear to fit."
"You could have asked me," Al said. "They are a bit tight compared to what I'm used to, and they are not as comfortable as athletic shoes from home, but they work. At least I should be able to step on a rock without wanting to jump up and spew curses for the next ten minutes."
"We can't expect more," Steve said. "So much we take for granted is going to be gone now."
I sighed. The others nodded in response as we stood quietly in the courtyard. I was about to say more when the door to the courtyard swung open and Montwil stomped in.
The man was leading several others. As they followed him through the gate he looked over at me and scowled. "I've got the other items you extorted out of my family. All this just to avoid a little embarrassment."
He spat. The spit fell to the ground at my feet with an audible splat. I stepped away and looked at the bundles being brought in.