Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1)

by S. A. Huchton

  The picture of innocence, Arden stood and lifted up on her toes, leaving a light kiss on his cheek. “That sounds like a wonderful plan. Do try to not get yourself killed, all right? My earlier threat still stands.”

  In moments, she hooked the yar’s arm and was happily chatting their way out of the room, Ehlren and the guards on their heels.

  “That skill of hers comes in handy, but I wonder if it won’t get her into trouble someday,” Vennic mused once they’d gone.

  “Yar or no,” Darius grumbled at the door, “if any harm comes to her, I’ll personally see Droogan’s cousin put on the throne in his place if he so much as misplaces a hand around her.”

  It wasn’t an idle threat.

  Arden

  The yar was taller than she thought he’d be, but it still felt odd to walk arm in arm with a fully grown adult who barely came up to her shoulder with his crown on. However, if she was to get her hands on those shards, she had to put aside any awkwardness and embrace the situation fully.

  What was most surprising about the whole thing was Darius’s reaction. It was possible she misread his insistence on Ehlren’s presence, but she was fairly certain she detected a note of jealousy in his voice. Perhaps she was wrong, as he demonstrated little interest in her body prior to that morning, but showing a hint of flesh to the yar prodded at something in Darius she hadn’t seen before. She filed it away for future reference, however, and focused on her company.

  They passed through the Varkomen assembly hall once more, and she couldn’t help but gush over the stunning architecture. The large, circular floor was surrounded by four rings of seats partitioned into boxes for each noble house. She marveled over the meticulous way every inch of the hall was carved out from solid stone. The mastery in the acoustics was boggling. Even the tick tick of a pebble skittering away at their feet resonated through the entire place.

  “It must get incredibly loud when the Varkomen is in session,” she said to the yar. “Every sound carries as though it’s shouted.”

  “The wonderful racket of leading the people to a greater good,” Bronson said, wistful. “It’s music to my ears. I do miss it a little. I may get the final say, but I always enjoyed being a part of the early process.”

  “And your wife? How does she feel about your station? I imagine she’s very proud of the work you do.”

  “My wife passed on three years ago,” he said, a touch of sadness in his voice, “though I like to think I’m carrying on the way she would’ve wanted. Our sons’ futures are secure in ways we never dreamed of. Well, they were before this sickness began. If it continues much longer, there stands to be a total uprising. My opponents only fuel that, of course. Nothing is ever settled as far as they’re concerned.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your wife, but I know Darius will do all he can to help your people.”

  The yar nodded. “Yes, he’s a good man. Strong and smart, a combination you don’t see often down here. I’ve no idea how a person could fight a thing they can’t see, but if anyone can, I’m sure it’s him.”

  They left the assembly hall and passed through the grand rotunda of the building, leaving its gilded floors for the more utilitarian passages off to one side. The walls held portraits of imposing dwarves in battle armor and bronzed busts ensconced in alcoves, their eyes seeming to follow as they went. That hall led to another down a stairwell, with plain doors to either side. At the end of that corridor, two guards kept watch over an iron gate, a person-sized cage waiting behind it. The soldiers snapped to attention, one unlocking the way as the other saluted and reported all was well, but his words went mostly unrecognized outside of a nod from the silent Ehlren. Nervous, Arden entered after the yar and found herself sandwiched between the two dwarves, suddenly and frightfully aware of what was in store for her.

  A potential drop to her death.

  Clinging to her hands to keep them from shaking, she swallowed back her terror of the lift. It was the only thing she disliked about mines. As Ehlren reached for the lever to take them down, she shut her eyes and focused on her breathing, pretending Darius was there the way he’d been when they climbed the cliff path. All the way down, her stomach sat in her throat, but she focused on remembering his voice, his reassuring smile, his arms around her waist…

  They hit the ground with a slight jerk and a thud, and she gave a quiet sigh of relief when the doors opened. Her fear vanished as soon as they stepped out into the dimly lit, gray passage, replaced by awe at the massive contraption before her. Gears larger than a man comprised a circular door taking up the entire wall. No two cogs were of the same color; some looked like copper alloys, others iron, and still others in various shades of brass. Each gear interlocked or overlapped another, and the door itself would’ve been indistinguishable from the rest were it not for the sparkling crystal wheel to open it all. It nearly glowed with the light it absorbed, and she was certain it possessed magical properties of some kind.

  She leaned in close to inspect it, but didn’t dare touch. “It’s beautiful, Yar Bronson. May I ask what it’s made of?”

  He dug around inside his doublet for a moment, eventually producing a key matching the wheel. He held it out in his palm towards her, the length of it extending over the edges of his hand. “Iridian crystal,” he said. “My family perfected the cutting of them several generations ago. If you do it correctly, then fire it at the right temperature, it will be nearly unbreakable. But if you’re careless with the raw stone, it shatters at the touch of a chisel.”

  “Fascinating,” she murmured, entranced by the shimmering surface. “Perhaps I’ll see about acquiring one for my own collection if there’s any to be had on the market.”

  Bronson chuckled. “I’d send you directly to my second cousin, Ebin, then. Some of my family might take advantage of your interest, but he’s most likely to give you a fair price.”

  He inserted the key in the center of the iridian crystal wheel, then turned the handle hard to the right, the gears instantly set into motion, grinding and spinning away as the solid door behind it opened outwards. Her breath held, the sudden glow of gold and the sparkle of jewels rendered her speechless. She knew dwarves were collectors of wealth, but she never imagined the sheer volume of hoarded treasure the yar’s vault would contain.

  He entered without ceremony, but Ehlren held her back a moment. “Be careful not to touch a thing, Your Highness,” he whispered. “I’ve heard rumors of wards placed here.”

  Not that she would’ve dared so much anyway, but she nodded and kept it in mind.

  Being inside the vault was nearly overwhelming. She did her best not to step on the overflowing coins and smaller jewels, but it was mostly impossible. The piles climbed toward the forty-foot ceiling, looking as though they could tip and start an avalanche at any moment. Past all of the initial wealth, however, the items became far more tempting for her to touch. Massive, reaching branches of raw veins of metal, stripped of the rock they were encased in, reached up with long, filamental fingers. One of the seven natural sculptures they passed looked to be a rare find of drakari nickel, its red tint unmistakable. She’d only ever seen it as small accents on larger pieces. Such a large amount would be worth a fortune to a jeweler. There were other large crystals of various hues, all taller than most men, assembled like a small forest to either side of the cleared path. She paused for just a moment to enjoy the magical beauty of it before hurrying to catch up to the yar.

  Past all of the displayed items, the bounty changed into stacks of unassuming chests, all secured with iridian crystal locks. Yar Bronson stopped beside one of them, already bent and opening the box at his feet.

  “I believe this is what the lady was looking for,” he said as he pushed back the lid.

  She gasped. Hundreds of metal shards were contained inside the box. “So many? That’s incredible.”

  He stood and shrugged. “Well, over the cou
rse of a thousand years, we’ve unearthed quite a few. That any at all are still intact is far more amazing. We keep these not because they’re very useful, but in hopes of discovering a way they might be remade. This is only one of five boxes of these in this vault. Other nobles here have more. We mostly present them as rewards for great deeds and achievements, as they’re symbolic of what we were and are capable of.” He reached into the chest and carefully selected ten shards, each as long as her thumb, then looked to Ehlren, expectant.

  The general jerked a bit, but seemed to know what he wanted. Clearing his throat, he undid a pouch from his belt and emptied coins from it into his pocket before presenting the bag to Bronson.

  The yar stuffed all ten shards inside the leather pouch and handed it to her with a gracious bow. “Dearest lady, may these represent the grand achievements you will aspire to in your reign as queen.”

  With complete reverence, she took the pouch in two hands, marveling at the riches— the potential— resting between her palms. “I promise, Yar Bronson, that I will strive to be deserving of this honor.” She looked up at him, beaming with happiness. “Anything I might discover, I swear to share with your people at every opportunity. If I can help bring back what you’ve lost, I will do it. Thank you so very, very much. You’ve no idea how great a gift this is for me.”

  The yar’s cheeks flushed red above his graying beard. “You are…” He gave a blustering cough before waving it off. “You’re most welcome.” His hand rested on her back as he steered her back towards the entrance. “Now, how about we discuss how long Ogtern gets to enjoy your presence. Are you comfortable at the ambassador’s house? Doma’s a fine host, but you’d be welcome guests in my home as well. You are, after all, the rulers of Valentia. I’d not want to be seen as slighting human royalty.”

  She chuckled and reattached herself to his arm, as his hand was beginning to stray a little lower than she liked. “It’s no slight at all, I assure you. We much prefer to be treated as any emissary here, as it’s important to keep one’s humility for reaching level-headed decisions about matters of state. And I’d be concerned it would set a rather bad precedent for any other visitors you receive here. That’s an incredibly kind offer to make, all the same. I suppose you could ask Darius his preference, if you like. He’s far more experienced than I am with your amazing city, so I’d defer to his judgment in this case.”

  They strolled back through the vault, continuing their benign banter. Ehlren’s eyes burned into the back of her head the whole way so intently was he watching. While she understood Darius sent him to make sure the yar behaved appropriately, it was annoyingly similar to her mother’s behavior before her wedding. Did everyone think her such a fragile thing incapable of defending herself? She might not’ve been a master swordsman, but she spent enough time around weapons to know how to use one when pressed to do so.

  Ehlren led her back towards the lift as the yar relocked the vault, and he again leaned in close, whispering to her. “I’m taking the liberty of making your excuses to the yar as to why you can’t stay and join him for lunch.”

  She blinked at him. “Was I invited for such a thing?”

  He gave her a flat look. “You play the game well enough, Highness, but tarry much longer with him and he’ll become much bolder than you’re prepared for. I was charged with your safety, and I won’t take any chances.”

  She sighed and nodded. “Very well. I understand your position. The athenaeum, then?”

  The yar rejoined them, the final grinding of the gears locking into place echoing through the chamber as they reached the lift. “Shall we go?” He asked as he opened the gate for her.

  “Thank you, yes,” she said, trying to control the quaver in her voice. If she didn’t have to ride another lift for a long, long time, she’d be eternally grateful.

  Chapter 22

  Darius

  The mine was exactly as Ehlren described. The perfectly carved out walls of the tunnels were a testament to dwarven efficiency, and the lighting was impeccable compared to human equivalents. Miles below the city, they explored tunnel after tunnel with their reluctant guide, a dwarf by the name of Kiff who owed him a favor. Darius was most interested in the newest sections, and even Vennic agreed the entire place was as clean as a mine could possibly be.

  “That’s the last tunnel there,” Kiff said, his eyes shifting from side to side as though he might be able to see the disease creeping up on him. “They tapped into a spring from the underside during exploration, but wound around it easy enough. It’s about half a mile from the end of that track. Can’t miss it. They had to give it up on account of everyone getting sick. No men to dig it out any deeper without abandoning richer tunnels.”

  Darius crossed his arms and smirked at the skinny dwarf, amused by his twitchy tics. “Does that mean you’re not coming in with us?”

  He sniffed, tugging at his thin beard. “Said I’d get you near the end. This is as near as I go.”

  Rolling his eyes, Darius turned away. “Then wait here for us. If you hear screaming, it’s up to you to inform my wife. Not a pleasant task, I’d imagine.”

  The gray rocks of the tunnel looked no different from any of the others they explored. After nearly ten minutes of walking, they heard the rush of water, a turn around a bend revealing the source shortly after. Liquid cascaded from an alcove to the right, the water gathering in a pool below it. Strangely, it never seemed to get any deeper, though neither Vennic nor Darius could see where it drained out to prevent flooding. If the spring flowed with that much strength for at least a few weeks, it was very odd the entire place hadn’t flooded.

  They reached the end of the tunnel with nothing more to show for it than when they went in. Vennic paused at the water again on the way back, but only frowned before continuing out. They scrutinized the walls as they went, looking for any signs of a haegaroi presence, but not so much as an odd scratch or splatter of blood was anywhere to be seen. The moment they were clear, Kiff set off for the topside, more than ready to be away from the cursed cavern, and he disappeared immediately after he collected the coin promised him in exchange for his services.

  “Well, that was a waste of a day,” Vennic said, stretching as they wound their way back towards the ambassador’s house.

  “All that water was a bit odd, but aside from the mysterious draining issue, there wasn’t anything else suspect about it. No discoloration, no foul smell, and, as Ehlren said, cleaner than almost anything else down there.”

  “Too good to be true?”

  Darius snorted. “Are you volunteering to test it?”

  He opened his mouth to retort, but a young dwarf boy rushed up to them, out of breath from running.

  “Proseika,” he said, gasping, “General Ehlren said to give you this when you came up from the pits.”

  He traded the missive for a coin, and the boy scurried off, clutching his prize. Unfolding the parchment, Darius read the words with ever increasing incredulity. “I may actually strangle that dwarf.”

  “What’s happened?” Vennic’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Is Arden in trouble?”

  He ground his teeth together. “He’s taken the Light of Valentia on a little adventure. Dinner at the Tinker & Fang.”

  His mouth fell open. “He what?”

  “Seems he decided to indulge her curiosity about my former life. We’d better get going. There’s no telling what horrors that crowd will introduce her to.”

  They ran through the streets, dodging vendors and messengers and people idly gossiping outside the shops of the market district. Even in their haste, it took them twenty minutes to get to the most infamous public house in all of Ogtern. As they neared the Tinker & Fang, however, they slowed, curious and anxious about the small crowd gathered outside. Pushing through the doorway, a familiar voice immediately brought Darius to a screeching halt, Vennic slamming into his back as they caught sight
of the person perched on the edge of the bar.

  “So then she says…” Arden giggled a bit. “She says, what do you mean that’s all there is? It was twice that size in the barn last night!”

  The place erupted in laughter, Arden at the center of it all, doubled over and shoulders shaking, near bursting over her own joke. Arden telling bawdy stories to dwarves? Was he hallucinating?

  The uproar died down as he stared at her, and she caught his eye with a broad grin, waving him over as she turned and reached for a mug beside her. He loudly cleared his throat, the men in front of him immediately turning and shrinking away when they saw the disapproving look on his face. Without another word, he marched up to the bar and took the drink from her hands.

  “Might I ask what my wife is doing sitting on top of the bar drinking…” he sniffed the contents of her cup and instantly recoiled. “Dwarven brandywine? What in the—”

  She snatched it back with a cool look. “Don’t be such a pick, Darius.” She leaned down to the dwarf near her knees. “Did I use that right?”

  The stubby-faced blond chuckled. “Aye, lady. That you did.”

  “Did you just call me a pick?”

  She took a sip and nodded once. “As in pick axe, or, the tool that breaks up all the fun.”

  “I know what it means,” he growled and reached for her cup again, but she held it out of his reach. “Where’s Ehlren?”

  “Oh! I almost forgot!” She hopped down off the bar, grabbing his arm to drag him away. “Over here.”

  He stumbled after her, trying to keep up as she danced her way through the crowd. “Arden, how much of that have you had to—”