He held the blade up to the light and whistled low. “Tha’s some right proper craftsmanship, there.” He poked his son gently and pointed to the diamond fox. “Whassat, lad?”
“I made an oath, da!” he said. He turned around and knelt so he could talk to his dad closer. “I swore on me Way an’ me beard tha’ I would listen ta ma, cause she loves me, and thank Lady Shelly ‘cause of the work she does fer the glory o’ the Mountain!”
“Yer first oath?” Granite spun the knife deftly around his fingers, then offered the hilt to his wife. “An’ I take it ye made it to mister Zekiel?”
“Aye!” The boy turned to me. “Sorry, fer not learnin’ yer name afore, sir.”
“Think nothing of it.” I chuckled. “You remind me of my son, though you’re a lot older than he is.”
“Ye have a boy of yer own then?” Granite asked. Natholdi seemed to take interest as well.
“I do,” I said simply. “He’s far away right now, but he’s with his mom, and I can’t wait until I can see him again.”
“Well, I donae know what I would do without me boy, friend.” Granite stood and patted his son. “Yer welcome among me an’ mine. As his first oath, ye be an important part of who he be now. We’d be honored if ye would be with us on his name day. And ye, o’ course Shelly. Yer next ta kin.”
“Thank you, Granite. I would appreciate that,” I offered. “When are the festivities?”
“Tonight?” Natholdi asked.
“No,” Shellica growled. “Ye’ll not take away my opportunity to spoil the lot of you. We will have it at the Light Hand Clan compound, and I will hear nothing otherwise. Hear?!”
Granite laughed, and Natholdi just shook her head before saying, “Yer too good ta us, lass. Ye treat us better than clan.”
A strange look passed over Shellica’s face. “Ye are better than clan. Yer kin. I saved yer life, girl. And ye’ve been me best friend since then.” She looked over to me and collected her thoughts before continuing, “Until now, I’ve been afraid to ask due to the social repercussions, but it seems to me that times are changing here.”
She stepped over to the couple, Granite towering over her and Natholdi much broader. Both of them seemed confused.
“I, Shellica Light Hand, leader of the clan of my name, do hereby formally invite you, Granite and Natholdi, to become kin, not just clan, but blood of my blood. Should you accept, I will take you and yours and all of your line into my care, so long as I may live and so long as my name is among those carved in the memory halls of the Mountain. Should you refuse, know that you will remain my staunchest friends and that I will continue to love and support you as I have. Friends, what say you.”
Warmth crawled through my body, and I felt my fur stand on end. I watched Natholdi gasp and look to her friend, then her husband. Granite didn’t seem surprised, but he did look to his wife. They seemed to share more in that one look than I have seen others pass in full conversations.
Granite looked over at Shellica then took a knee before her. “If ye will take me kin as yer own, I will accept ye as me clan leader, and I will support ye in any endeavor I am able. I swear it as speaker of this home by my beard under the Mountain.”
“Rise, Granite Light Hand, and take your place with the rest of my family,” Shellica said with a smile and tears in her eyes. “If you would like, you can be accommodated in the compound, though I do know your business here is important. If you would like to stay here, you can.”
“Thank ye, Shelly.” Natholdi rushed over to Shellica and gave her a big hug.
“Whassat mean then?” The little boy’s eyes were huge at all that was going on.
“Means you’re gonna have quite the party, kid,” Muu joked as he walked through the door from the other room. “Oh, hey Granite. Eat anyone today?”
Granite laughed as he looked over at Muu. “Oh aye, Natholdi, yer right, he should o’ been born a Dwarf!”
Chapter Thirteen
We spent some time that day after working on things that would be appropriate for the party the next evening. Shellica released me to my own devices once more, and I left to go back to the Mugfist compound.
I began to think about the name day celebration. Were the Dwarves’ traditions that similar to our own? Natholdi had said that the knife was a gift for his name day. There was so much I didn’t know. I needed to ask someone some questions.
I couldn’t seem to find anyone, and Brawnwynn wouldn’t answer my question because he was busy training some new warriors off somewhere when I tried to find him, so I went elsewhere.
“Hey, Farnik, I had a quick question,” I said after casting Mental Message. “What is an appropriate gift to get a Dwarven child on their name day?”
“Name days be mighty important in Dwarven culture, lad,” Farnik responded readily. “Meet me outside the compound, and we can discuss it more. I had things to do anyway.”
I smiled to myself and began to walk a little faster. As I wove through the people around me, I noticed that fewer of the Dwarves openly stared, and a few even nodded respectfully my way. I returned nods in the same manner they were given, and I made it over to the compound.
“Ho there, lad,” Farnik greeted me. He wore chainmail with the Mugfist crest on it—I swear if you can’t see the mug in a Dwarven fist… never mind—and he had a wicked looking battle axe attached to hooks on his back.
“Hey, Farnik,” I greeted him and slowed down. “You, uh, expecting a fight?”
“Always.” He bared his teeth for a moment. “Forgive me, Zeke. I don’t take ta the city without bein’ prepared anymore, though the clan thinks I should have a guard. Feh! Me? Hardly. Ye had questions for me about name days?”
“Yeah,” I stood next to him, and we began to walk in no particular direction. “So, his mother gave him a skinning knife that I enchanted for him, but it was pointed out that if he ever needed to defend himself, it would be a poor weapon because of the enchantment I used.”
“Aye?” Farnik encouraged me to go on.
“So, I was thinking, what if I got him an axe or something?” I continued.
Farnik stopped and shook his head and hands at me. “Nooo, lad. No. A Dwarf’s pride is to give his child their first axe. Who’s the lad’s da?”
“His name is Granite. His mother is Natholdi,” I explained.
Farnik whistled. “Oh lad. Granite be a right good one to have on yer side—donae get the boy an axe.”
“You know Granite?” We were in the merchant section of the city now.
“Aye,” Farnik said. He patted a Dwarf on the back in a friendly manner. Like he seemed to know everyone. “Granite be a damned skilled warrior. A berserker—real barbarian kind of Fighter who loses themselves to their emotions. How ye doing, Gwently?”
A Dwarf who ran the stall with assorted weapons and various other metal workings waved at Farnik. His beard was red and short, probably due to age. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he wore chainmail as well.
“Ho there, Farnik!” the Dwarf greeted. “What ken a do ye fer?”
“Need a name day gift for Granite’s boy,” Farnik informed the merchant. He looked at me. “These are weapons from the Stone Hammer clan, so Granda’s kids and kin made these. Ye’ll be hard pressed to find better in the city. Though there is a stall for other clans’ wares down the way.”
I looked over some of the items on display. There were axes, which were out of the question—I’d rather not piss off the Dwarven bear. I looked over some of the knives. There were some quality weapons I did feel he could learn to train with in the meantime. There were several short daggers. A knife. I even saw a bandolier of throwing knives. All of them looked good.
I grabbed two of the short daggers and the bandolier of throwing knives. That last one was more for me than anything. If I could give someone a kickass gift—no matter how impractical—I’d do it. I mean, who doesn’t want to throw knives, right?
Farnik nodded at my choices and pulled out a
sack of coin.
“Woah, hey, woah.” I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “I got this, Farnik. These are my gifts. I’ll take care of them.”
The older Dwarf snorted and loosed a good-natured chuckle. “Ye can use yer coin for yer gifts, Zeke. This be the clan’s contribution to a Dwarf whose name ought strike fear inta the hearts o’ many. While I was killin’ me wife’s murderer in that Drow raid, Granite took on an entire swarm o’ their minions, several Drow, and a drider on his own. He stopped at least three other clans from experiencing the loss that he did. The Dwarf is a legend. We took a collection the day I heard his boy was born.”
“Shit,” I grunted. And here I had been basically smoking and joking with a fucking legend. Yeah, leave it to me to find the most important person in a room and make an ass of myself.
“So wait, if he’s so important—why was he clanless?”
Gwently spoke up, “Granite were the kin’ a Dwarf to no’ let others know his pain. He works the mines day long, no one bothers him. Mines the ore hisself most days. Weren’t neglect the clans had fer makin’ him a home—were out o’ respect tha’ he an’ his was left ta their own fer fear o’ upsettin’ him.”
“If I got that right,” I said slowly as I turned to Farnik, “he whooped some serious ass in that fight, and all of his clan fell but him. And instead of having him choose a clan to join, you left him to his own devices so that he could recover. Out of respect for him and his loss?”
“Aye,” Gwently put in. “Smart one here, Farnik.”
Farnik chuckled, and I looked over to see a mischievous glint in the merchant’s eyes.
“So what’s the money for?” I asked.
“It’s fer his first set o’ armor.” Farnik tapped it and slid it over to the merchant who took it, pulled ink and quill from a shelf below the counter, and began to scribble the order down. “Every member of the clan put in two silver. To be honest, it’ll be more than enough to cover most of his armor into adulthood. But they won’t know that until it’s needed, will they Gwently?”
“Who the fuck are ye again?” Gwently joked, and they clasped hands. “That’ll be two gold, lad.”
I passed him the money, and he nodded at me.
“Will ye be treatin’ these weapons, lad?” Farnik asked curiously.
“Treating…?” I mouthed. Then it dawned on me. “You mean enchanting?”
He looked uncomfortable but nodded and cleared his throat.
“I mean, yeah I can.” I tapped my temple in thought. “I hadn’t thought of it, to be honest.”
Farnik cleared his throat again, seeming a little worried as he cast his eyes about. “Hem, uh, well, every lad deserves a good present fer his name day. An’ I seed Granite’s boy in passin’. Seems like a good lad, big like his ma and da with a good head.”
“Yeah, he’s a pretty good kid,” I agreed.
“Well, good. I’m glad I could help ye,” Farnik scratched his head. “Be there anything that they need?”
“Well, they officially joined the Light Hand Clan this morning,” we began to walk back toward the Mugfist compound slowly, “and Shellica told them that they would be having their name day tomorrow at their compound.”
Farnik stopped and looked shocked. “Granite and Natholdi joined that clan?!”
Before I could control myself, a sigh escaped my body.
“Look, lad,” Farnik held his hands up in a placating motion in front of him. “I know ye work with her, but ye don’t have to force yerself to defend her.”
“I’m not forcing myself, Farnik.” I checked around us for listeners. People saw Farnik, but they also saw me, and I kept them at bay for a bit longer. “She and her clan do a lot for your people with their magics that you don’t know about.”
“Magic ain’t right, lad,” Farnik explained as if it were the most natural thing. “It be fine for ye using magic ‘cause you’re not a Dwarf by blood, but their magic ain’t natural.”
And he really believed that. “Do you not know about their blessings from Fainne?”
“The Mountain has never been known to give his people magic powers,” Farnik explained indulgently.
“Farnik, I’ve met him,” I explained. “He gave me a deeper mana pool and the ability to engrave things with mana. He didn’t give them magic powers. He allowed them the ability to enchant weapons and items with magic for his glory.”
“Ye met him?” His eyebrows were raised in surprise. “What was he like?”
“He was really nice.” I shrugged. “He was made of metals, and he seemed to be really cool. He didn’t seem the type to baby people, but he was supportive of my trying to master my craft. You haven’t been visited by him?”
“Aye, that sounds like the Mountain from our teachins.” Farnik smiled at the idea. “And ye say he supported yer enchanting? No, lad. I be a warrior. The way I feel close to the Mountain is by fighting. I feel his touch at times but never see him.”
“He gave me the ability to form my mana into shapes so that I can engrave better.”
Farnik nodded but frowned. “Why would Shellica’s people not pass on their support from the Mountain?”
“Because they take their duties to the Mountain seriously,” I explained with hope. “They do it for Him and Him alone. If they can keep doing their thing and enchanting some of the weapons and items you all make, then they’re fine.”
“But the others scorn them.” He seemed confused, then began to rub his forehead with the butt of his hand. “How much they suffer from other’s fears and not knowin’? It ain’t Dwarven. Come on, lad, we got work to do.”
He waved me forward, and he marched forward with purpose that he hadn’t had before. “What do you mean by that?”
“We got a party to prepare for!” He grinned at me. A few minutes later and his obstinate refusal to answer my questions saw us inside the grounds of the clan’s home. Farnik called out, “Clan meeting! Get yer arses to the back courtyard in five minutes! Pass the word.”
Dwarves scattered to spread the word and then fell into line behind us as we began walking toward the rear of the complex. It took a little longer than five minutes for everyone to gather, but once they were together, Farnik addressed the whole clan.
“Mugfist!” he shouted, threw a fist into the air, and his people did the same. “Lads and lasses of the clan, I have grave news for ye. We of the Mugfist and all o’ this city have come dangerously close to losing our Way.”
There was a collective gasp, and the Dwarves in the yard began to shout questions. Some looked horrified and damned near began to riot.
“We and all the other Dwarves in this city have made a rather large slight against the Mountain and his people,” Farnik continued as he threw a hand into the air for quiet. “Every time ye crossed the street, spat in the direction of, or acted odd to a member of the Light Hand Clan, ye spat in the face o’ the Mountain.”
“How?!” one Dwarf shouted incredulously. Another bellowed, “Magic in Dwarves ain’t right!”
“I felt the same,” Farnik growled and slapped his hand to his armor. “I swears I did, but the truth be laid out afore me, and I come with a chance to make things right. Listen well.”
He then began to speak to them about our conversation, about the things that I had observed in my time working with Shellica, and then me meeting their god. People balked at that, but then they remembered I was clan and they took it as a sign of favor. Farnik explained things that he had noticed as well—how Shellica and all of her clan had treated the other Dwarves with professionalism and courtesy despite being treated as pariahs.
“Clan Mugfist,” Farnik finally said, tears of horror flowing down his cheeks, “a time has come where we can begin to restore our honor with the Light Hand, but it’s only the beginning. Tomorrow, their newest members, Granite, his wife, and boy are having the lad’s name day celebration. We already committed to getting him armor, but we can do more. What say ye?!”
The gathered Dwarves ro
ared with approval. Some in the crowd wept openly as they shouted. Others pulled items out of their beards, the hair attached to them, which if I recalled correctly, was an attempt at penance for a wrong done against another. Those who did so brought the items and locks to the front and piled them before Farnik.
“Aye, we all didn’t know—but ignorance nae be an excuse,” Farnik shouted gravely. “I say we offer ‘em fifty barrels. With a promise of another fifty to come. They will not drink their own stock tomorrow. Aye?!”
“AYE!” the others shouted.
“I will go to Shellica as a representative of the clan, and I will pay for our lack of honor and our unknowing hindrance of their Way. Stand with me, brothers and sisters. What say ye?”
“‘Tis only right, ‘tis only just,” the group chanted together. “A Dwarf in debt does as he must.”
“Truth.” Farnik nodded solemnly, but there was a look of understanding calm to him that I hadn’t seen. “I treated them unfair, we all did. Let us hope that our example leads others to correct their Way. Go! We prepare.”
A flurry of motion, Dwarves beat feet in all manner of directions. More than one Dwarf came to me to ask about Fainne. They wanted to know if he was healthy with all that was going on—the fighting against War and his invaders. I tried to pass what precious little I knew, and they seemed satisfied with it.
“Thank ye, lad.” Farnik clapped me on the shoulder. “Ye gived us a chance to restore our honor and right a dire wrong. Ye be damned near as good as any natural born Dwarf, aye?”
“If you say so, Farnik. I’m just happy I could help. Also, don’t tell Shellica I told you all that.”
“Why not?” he asked with true concern on his face.
“I’m worried she’ll kick my ass,” I groaned.
“Bwahahahah!” Farnik burst with laughter. “Oh, aye. That she will likely do. She were stoic about it a long while, likely bore it with pride. But yer clan, lad. Ye has to tell me what ye know’d. Ye would’ve been in the wrong not to.”
“Thank you for that out, man.” I smiled at him in relief.
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