“What, did you think we dwarves only ate rock and stone?” Orrina asked with a laugh.
She pulled over a chair and sat down across the table from Simon, watching him almost fondly.
The wizard smiled, a little embarrassed.
“No, not really. But until I met Shandon, I had believed that dwarves were just a mythical race. Like elves or goblins. It was quite a shock to learn that you are all real.”
Orrina frowned slightly.
“You might not want to mention either elves or goblins to others here. They are not the most popular of races. Elves, of course, are not evil, but we are not fond of them. And as for goblins...”
She growled low in her throat and Simon stared at her in surprise. She didn't sound very matronly when she did that.
The dwarf caught his look and cleared her throat.
“Sorry. We dislike the elves but words cannot express my people's hatred of goblins. They are creatures created by the lords of Chaos, our ancient enemies and as such are an abomination to the dwarves.”
“They are horrible,” Simon agreed. “In my brief dealings with them, I found no redeeming features in them whatsoever.”
“Oh, that's right; you met them in battle once, didn't you?”
“Not exactly, no. But we did have a run in and I became convinced that the world would be a better, cleaner place without them.”
“Aye, on that we can agree. Now, try some food. You need feeding up, sir wizard.”
She lifted the covers off of several plates. There were heaps of sliced meats, cheeses and freshly cut bread and Simon's mouth began to water.
“Thanks so much. It all looks delicious. But please, call me Simon. That 'sir wizard' business always makes me uncomfortable.”
“Well then, let no one say that guests at Orrina's Diamond Inn were in any way made uncomfortable,” the matron replied with a grin. “Simon it is. And call me Orrina in return. I believe that we will get along famously.”
Simon began to serve himself.
“I think so too,” he said as he started to eat. “Oh my God, this is so good.”
Orrina beamed at him.
When Simon had finished his meal, the innkeeper led him to his room on the second floor. Inside was a large bed with a thick mattress covered by a bright quilt. It looked very inviting. A plain but beautifully carved dresser and cabinet completed the room and off to the side was the washroom.
“We have hot water at all times,” Orrina said proudly as she showed him the bathtub. “All of your toiletries are in the cupboard there along with fresh towels. Oh and I'll have a clean robe and undergarments for you within the hour. I put in the order when I heard you were coming to stay.”
Simon thanked her yet again for her hospitality but she just waved him off.
“Pssh, it is my pleasure. Truth be told, I haven't had much business lately. With the city on a war footing now, we get few travelers from the other dwarven towns. I do get the occasional visitor or host a special event, but it is rare these days. I sometimes wonder why I even need to keep my cook on staff, but she's a dear old thing and has been with me for years, so what can you do?”
Orrina told him to get some sleep in a motherly way and left him alone.
Simon watched the door close and then smiled to himself as he looked around. The room was decorated with a lovely tan wallpaper patterned with muted stripes. The thick brown rug was warm and soft on his feet and that sandalwood smell was still in the air, easing his nerves.
There was a window looking out over the street below and he pushed back the curtains curiously to take a look around.
The roadway wasn't very wide, but a steady stream of people were coming and going as he watched. Most of them wore the simple tunics of the working class, with some wearing a leather apron over them, marking them as tradespeople.
There were a smattering of armored figures among the pedestrians and Simon noticed that they were given plenty of room to pass by the other dwarves. He hadn't noticed that deference the last time he had stayed in Kingstone and wasn't quite sure he liked it.
It looked more like fear than respect from where he stood.
Across the street was an office of some sort, with a granite facing and several ornate columns out front. A dwarf in nondescript clothing was leaning against one of these columns, his face in shadow. It was hard to tell, but he seemed to be staring up at the inn and Simon pulled back from the window so that the watcher wouldn't see him.
Was the mysterious figure keeping an eye on him? Or was he just overtired and imagining things?
The wizard peaked out through the curtains again and blinked in surprise. The watcher was gone.
Just some random stranger, he told himself. Stop being so jumpy.
He walked into the washroom and ran a bath. He was filthy and one look in the mirror made him blush in embarrassment.
His face was streaked with dirt, his hair was matted and clumped and his mismatched eyes were red with exhaustion and lack of sleep. Hardly a great wizard ,was his wry thought. Now he was surprised that Orrina had even let him sit on her sofa, because his robe was filthy as well.
The tub filled up quickly and he gingerly slipped into the steaming hot water and leaned back with an extended sigh of relief. Never had a bath felt so good.
The bar of soap that the inn supplied smelled of jasmine and lathered up beautifully. Simon made sure to wash his hair twice, pulling through the knots and cursing under his breath as he did so.
After he got out again and dried off, he rinsed out the tub thoroughly. There was no way that he was going to leave it dirty; that would be poor repayment for Orrina's hospitality.
There was a package in the hallway outside of his room and, when Simon opened it, he found the promised clothing.
Something else to thank the innkeeper for, he thought as he closed and locked the door. He hung the dark blue robe in the cabinet and slipped into bed.
The sheets were crisp and smooth and he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, content for the first time in days.
Simon woke up many hours later, with no idea of the time. Like all dwarven cities, Kingstone had a day and night cycle but there was little to differentiate the two except for less traffic on the streets.
The wizard got up slowly; he was so stiff that he moved like an old man.
The old man that I actually am, he thought ruefully.
After he'd washed up a bit and dragged a comb through his tangled mane of hair, Simon got dressed and took a moment to peek out through the curtains.
Was there a quick movement in the shadows across the street? He squinted, looking for some sign of a watcher, but there was nothing.
It's just your imagination, he told himself without much conviction. Who would want to spy on you? Especially here?
Downstairs, Orrina had heard him moving around and had breakfast waiting for him in the dining room.
“Come in and set yourself down, my friend,” she said warmly as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Simon followed her into a large room with a half-dozen round tables scattered about. All of them were set with white linen tablecloths and place settings but only one was set for dining.
Orrina pulled out a chair for him and Simon sat down gratefully.
“Now, it isn't quite midday here yet, but we'll still call this breakfast, shall we?” she said jovially.
“Certainly. Thanks so much, by the way. My bed was so comfortable, I slept like a stone.”
The dwarf laughed loudly.
“An apt description to use in a dwarven inn,” she chortled. “Now, there's fresh tea in that carafe and I have eggs and fried beef on the way, as well as toast.”
She began to leave the room and looked back over her shoulder.
“Won't be but a minute,” she said and disappeared.
The wizard smiled to himself and poured a cup of tea. He could swear that it was chamomile, but it was probably something else. The taste was what matt
ered though. He recognized a bowl of brown powder as sweetener created from some sort of fungus and added a spoonful to his tea.
A few sips and he relaxed. It was as good as he remembered.
The dining room walls were painted a soothing pale green and had many pictures hanging from them. Surprisingly, most were scenes of flowering meadows and distant mountains; very odd choices for a people who lived underground.
The sandalwood scent was strong here and made the whole place feel even more inviting. Simon couldn't remember the last time he stayed anywhere that was more welcoming, other than his own home. He began to hope that the king wouldn't summon him for a while so that he could remain at the inn and just enjoy its atmosphere for a few more hours.
“Here we are,” Orrina said as she returned a short time later, carrying a loaded tray.
She set it down deftly across the table from the wizard and removed the covers from the plates on it.
There were fried eggs, a mound of sliced ham and a dozen pieces of hot toast. There was a plate of butter and a jar of what looked like marmalade as well.
“Help yourself,” Orrina said encouragingly. “I've already eaten, so don't stand on ceremony.”
Simon didn't have to be asked twice. He was famished.
Breakfast was delicious and he complimented the innkeeper many times during the meal. Orrina simply beamed in response.
“Ah but it's good to have someone to feed up again. My children are long gone and the husband went and got himself killed in a rockfall twenty years back, you see, and with the lack of guests, well; let's just say that you're welcome to stay for as long as you please.”
She grinned and added, “And it doesn't hurt that the king is footing the bill.”
Simon laughed at her mischievous tone and she winked at him slyly.
“Now, head on into the parlor and I'll clear away the dishes. No, no, no. None of that. I need no help. Now, be off with you.”
The wizard felt like a boy again as he was ordered from the room by the dwarven woman. He was smiling widely as he entered the parlor where he'd first sat down the previous night.
His smile quickly faded as he realized that there was someone else in the room as he entered, just off to his left.
He turned to see the visitor and caught a glimpse of the scowling, twisted face of an unknown dwarf. Something slammed into the side of his head and he fell to his knees, the room going dark around him.
But I'm safe with the dwarves, was his last desperate thought, and then everything went black.
Chapter 14
The dwarves were as complicated a race as human kind was. They were, for the most part, good people but they certainly weren't perfect.
There were thieves among them; there were bullies and thugs. And there were assassins. The dwarven royal house had seen its fair share of deaths for political gain at the hands of murderers. Poison, garrote, dagger; none of these instruments of evil were unknown to the rulers of the dwarven nation. Shandon Ironhand knew them all too well.
Kidnapping, on the other hand, was virtually unknown. Death from the shadows was considered dishonorable, yes, but to steal someone away while they were helpless? That was beyond despicable.
And so it should have come as no surprise to the person or persons responsible for spiriting away a friend of the king, even though that friend was human, that the full might of the king's authority would come crashing down upon them. And yet it did.
Simon woke up in horrendous pain. It felt like the side of his head had been bashed in. Rolling waves of agony made him writhe uncontrollably on whatever surface he was lying on.
But a gentle touch against his temple, a warmth like fire but strangely comforting, eased his pain in an instant and he groaned in relief.
“Easy, Simon,” a woman's voice said calmly. “Breathe, my friend. Your wound is healing, but you must stay still and let the gods' gift do its work.”
He knew that voice from somewhere but he felt himself descending into darkness again and he couldn't remember who was speaking.
After what felt like only a few minutes, a flickering light danced across his eyelids. The pain had receded and the wizard tentatively opened his eyes to look around.
A female dwarf wearing plain leather clothing was sitting on the edge of the bed he was lying on. One of her hands was placed on the side of his head. She smiled as he looked up at her.
“Ah, there you are. You know, while I get a deep satisfaction from saving your life, this is starting to become a habit.”
The pain was gone and Simon felt nothing but warmth and comfort. He sighed and smiled up at his benefactor.
“Hi Opheilla. This is a surprise but it's good to see you again. How's my head?”
She pushed back the long braid that kept her blond hair off of her face and chuckled.
“In one piece again, thanks to the gods' mercy. Can you sit up?”
The wizard pushed himself up on his elbows, helped by the cleric's arm across his shoulders. She slipped a few pillows behind him for support and Simon relaxed again.
“That's better. Now we can see eye to eye,” she said jovially. “Can you remember what happened?”
Simon looked around the room and realized with surprise that he was back at the inn, in the same room that he'd had when he first arrived in Kingstone.
“Hang on. Are we inside the Diamond Inn?” he asked in confusion.
“We are indeed. Best lodgings in the entire city, in my opinion. When we recovered you from the scum that snatched you away, Shandon had you brought back here while he summoned me. The first good idea he's had in ages,” she added with a smile.
“Snatched me away? What? The last thing I remember was walking into the parlor and seeing someone out of the corner of my eye. Then something hit me and...nothing. You're saying that I was kidnapped?”
“Aye, kidnapped,” Opheilla growled. “A despicable action perpetrated by dishonorable dwarves.”
She frowned at the thought and then stood up abruptly. She walked over to a table and brought back a glass of water.
“Drink this. You're a little dehydrated from two days of healing sleep. It was necessary after that blow to the head. By the gods, it's a wonder that you didn't die in the hands of those idiots.”
Simon accepted the glass but just held it as he stared at her.
“Two days? I've been out for two days?”
The cleric motioned for him to drink as she answered.
“Aye, two days. And it's been a chaotic time in the city for that span, let me tell you. When Orrina called the watch to tell them that you had been taken, they informed the king straight away. His reaction was...intense, to put it mildly.”
She shivered and looked blankly across the room.
“I've known Shandon since he was very young and I thought that I knew him well. But by the gods, I have never seen that kind of rage in him.”
She shook her head and looked at Simon.
“You have a great friend there, sir wizard. He rousted out the warriors of the city and the royal guard as well. And then he did something that I never thought he would do. Amazing. He broke his own rules to find you and, for a stubborn person like the king, that is saying something.”
Simon handed her his empty glass and watched as she put it back on the table.
“I don't understand. What did he do? And how did he even know that I'd been kidnapped?”
She returned and sat down on the edge of the bed again.
“Oh, the mongrels left a note, of course. A bunch of nonsense about consorting with lesser races and the king bringing shame on the great dwarven nation. Blah, blah, blah. Racist idiotic nonsense is what it was.”
“Those people don't like humans? But why? We're no threat to them.”
The cleric patted his hand and smiled at him affectionately.
“Of course you aren't. And you yourself saved Shandon's life, and his honor, when the dragons attacked our people underground. But I think the fact t
hat we have taken in human refugees has made the hatred for your race bubble up in some people. It's been there, simmering like a foul stew just under the surface, but now the presence of humans inside of the capital itself has brought it spewing out into the open. That such dwarves even exist is a stain on the honor of my people.”
Simon gave that some thought. Of course he knew that no one could be universally loved. And he'd lived long enough to know that even the best of people had some prejudices. But to take it so far that you attack others? He could understand why Opheilla was so angry at what some of her people had done.
“So what did Shandon do that surprised you?” he asked her.
“Oh that. Well, he knew that we had to find you quickly; the kidnappers had given the king only a short time to meet their demands. So he approached our magical community and asked for their aid.”
He stared at her, wide-eyed.
“But, aren't spell-casters considered...” he hesitated, not wanting to insult Opheilla's people.
Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she snorted softly.
“Second-class citizens? Aye, to our shame, that's true. I've never felt that way about anyone gifted with powers, but unfortunately I am in the minority. Perhaps having the king ask for their help will open the minds of a few of the less hard-headed among us. Maybe.”
She adjusted Simon's pillows and looked a little sad for a moment.
“Ah well, baby steps, I suppose,” Opheilla continued with a small shrug. “We dwarves are a stubborn lot, 'tis true, and it might be a long time before mages and wizards can live openly with the rest of our society. The point is that the casters Shandon spoke to were able to use their magic to track you down, my friend. And very quickly too. The royal guard and others from the watch surrounded the hideout of your captors and stormed the place, taking the dogs completely off-guard. They found you in a small closet looking rather the worse for wear, brought you back here and summoned me.”
She leaned back and patted his hand again.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two Page 97