The heavy iron sign hanging over the entrance was inlaid with glowing dwarven symbols but the wizard couldn't read them and simply followed the seneschal into the building.
Inside, the building was richly decorated in bright colors. Blue seemed to be the predominant hue; dark blue on the walls and ceiling.
Many heavy pieces of furniture were visible from the entrance and gave the inn a homey, welcoming appearance. Some sort of incense was burning and it reminded Simon of the smell of sandalwood. It was very soothing.
A dwarven matron greeted them politely. She was wearing a long blue dress and her gray hair hung down her back in a long braid. She bowed to Ragar and smiled at Simon.
“Sir wizard, this is Orrina. Her inn is one of the city's best and her services are highly regarded by the king.”
“And,” the woman spoke up boldly, “I speak your language quite well, also thanks to Shandon. Not many of our people do.”
She stared at Ragar in amusement.
“Must you always be so stuffy? Shandon is the king, yes, but he is also a plain-spoken person. He doesn't give himself airs. Plus he's a friend to many, including the three of us here. So ease up a bit and don't let your position go to your head, seneschal,” she added with a shake of her finger.
Ragar looked uncomfortable and gave Simon a quick glance.
“Orrina, while I am on duty, I must maintain the proper formality, as you well know. Now, sir wizard, the king invites you to remain here, to rest and regain your strength. He will send for you when he can. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Simon shook his head and thanked the dwarf profusely for his time.
“Not at all, not at all,” Ragar replied a bit pompously. “All in a day's work. I am sure that we will meet again soon.”
He took his leave and hurried out the door, appearing to be in a rush. Once the door had closed behind him, Orrina laughed gently.
“I remember him as a child, always so ambitious, wanting to do his father proud,” she told Simon. “Well, he'd reached the heights now. Let us see how long he survives in that rarefied air.”
She led Simon through the entrance way into the main room and sat him down on an enormous leather couch.
“Now rest there for a bit and I'll get you something,” she told him “You look about done in. Won't be but a moment.”
And she zipped out of sight before Simon could even thank her.
He leaned his staff against the side of the couch and took a moment to slip off his boots. He didn't know if it was proper etiquette but his feet were throbbing and very sore.
It was such a relief to get his boots off that he let out a long breath and just slumped back into the couch, closing his eyes.
Well, I've made it this far in one piece, he thought as he let his mind drift. I hope Kronk and Aeris are all right. It's a relief to know that the dwarves took care of that undead army, so that's one less threat. For now.
“Here we are,” Orrina said as she re-entered the room
Simon opened his eyes and sat up blearily. He must have dozed off for a second.
The matron had just brought in a silver tray loaded down with plates and put it down on a small but heavy-looking table. She then lifted both table and tray and easily brought them across the room and put them down in front of the couch, reminding Simon that even dwarven females were incredibly strong.
“Oh, thanks so much,” the wizard said. “Sorry, I may have drifted off there.”
“I'm not surprised, young man. You're as pale as cheese. Here now, get something into you. There's cold water to start; you must be thirsty. And fruit juice after that. You've been with us before, I know, so you won't be surprised that we grow our own fruits and vegetables.”
Simon smiled at her.
“I'm not. I was at the time though. And that you raised animals down here for meat and cheese as well. Somehow such a thing had never occurred to me.”
He poured a glass of water from a tall beaker and drank it down. The relief on his parched mouth and tongue was amazing. He poured a second glass and sipped on it.
“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 th
e 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 mattered 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.
The Dragons of Bone and Dust (Tales from the New Earth Book 7) Page 16