A wizen old gnome didn’t even look up from his work when he asked, “Picking up or dropping off?”
“Dropping off.”
“Race?”
Darnac answered. “Gnome, from Aad.”
The old gnome nodded and gestured to the back of the morgue. “Place him on slab twelve.”
Darnac motioned for Hawkeye to follow him and weaved his way through the occupied slabs. When they reached the empty ones, he pointed at the correct slab and Hawkeye tenderly laid down the body of his friend.
The mortician shuffled up to the stone table and set down the wooden stool he was carrying. Stepping up, he shooed the warriors to the side and expertly inspected the body.
After studying Kang’s tattoos for a moment he said, “You are correct. He was from Aad, first generation. His father was one of the city’s founders from the look of it.” He turned Kang’s head slightly to examine more of the tattoos. “I see he was a scout in the city’s militia; I thought all of Aad’s militia was on the surface fighting in some foolish war?”
Darnac and Hawkeye looked at each other for a brief second before the dark elf turned back to the gnome. “He was but that isn’t the question at hand, can you take care of him?”
The old gnome nodded. “Of course. Which level of burial do you want for him? Pauper, merchant, warrior or royalty?”
Darnac didn’t hesitate when he answered. “Warrior…with full honors.”
The mortician whistled. “That is a bit expensive.”
Hawkeye was about to respond but Darnac cut him off. “This man sacrificed himself to save me, a complete stranger. The cost doesn’t matter. I will pay the fee.”
“Done. Fifty silver eagles.”
Darnac reached into one of his belt pouches and pulled out a small ruby the size of his thumbnail. “Take this. I will be sending you a few more clients over the next few days but they only get a pauper’s burial.”
“As you wish Blademaster.” The mortician climbed down from his perch and went back to his work.
Darnac nodded toward the doorway and the two warriors walked out into the busy streets once again. Once again, the crowds seem to part at their approach.
Hawkeye cocked his head to the side and looked at his dark elf companion. “It occurs to me that we haven’t been introduced.”
“True but then, I know who you are and it is safer if we leave it at that. There are agents hunting you throughout the Subterrus, even here in Otrar. We need to get you to Captain Forlorn’s ship before the Sultan finds out you are here.”
“But…”
Darnac interrupted him. “Trust me Kamots Hawkeye. It’s safer for you not to know.”
Hawkeye nodded and decided to accept his explanation. His gut told him that this strange dark elf was trustworthy, at least in this instance. Besides, he was completely lost in this chaotic city and if he wanted to find pier ninety-four before the Ebony Eagle sailed, he would have to trust the mysterious dark elf. It wasn’t long before they reached the berth and Hawkeye got his first look at the ship.
The Ebony Eagle was crafted from some sort of black wood, hence its name. However, it was more than just its coloring that made it unique when compared to the other vessels nearby. It was the longest of the ‘rum runners’ and Hawkeye guessed that it was probably ten times longer than it was wide. It had extremely clean lines and seemed designed for speed. He did notice a black metal ram attached to the bow of the ship which he realized had to be used for ramming another ship. Even though his people weren’t sailors, the dwarves were and he had long talks with Rjurik concerning ships and nautical warfare.
The Ebony Eagle had two masts; the main-mast was the tallest and located near the center of the ship while a second one was located behind the main-mast and about half-way to the stern. He would later learn that this was known as the mizzen-mast and was much shorter than the main. However, since they were underground no sails were rigged but twenty-five oars rested in the water on the far side.
Engrossed in the beauty of the ship, Hawkeye started to walk up the wooden plank that had been lowered from the ship’s main deck to the pier. Darnac held out a hand to stop him at the gangplank and called out, “Permission to come aboard!”
“Permission granted,” came the reply as Captain Forlorn and her first mate walked into view.
Darnac skipped lightly across the wooden plank until he was standing before the flamboyant captain. He bowed deeply and said, “Chikk….you get lovelier every time I see you.”
“Dar…I’m surprised to see you.”
Hawkeye noticed that her eyes sparkled with laughter but her body language was tense. Additionally, the huge minotaur Tok flexed his muscles and moved slightly to one side. The rest of the crew seemed to pick up on the growing tension between their captain and the blademaster. Most shifted positions until they were standing near weapons that were secured at different locations around the deck.
Darnac raised his hands. “This is purely a social call. I’m just repaying part of a debt.”
Captain Forlorn lifted her chin ever so slightly.
Darnac nodded his head at the barbarian standing behind him. “I had a visit from Espen. Hawkeye intervened.”
From the way that the captain’s eyes widened, Hawkeye gathered that this Espen fellow had a nasty reputation.
The captain asked, “Is he still alive?”
“For the moment, Kang fell in my defense. I had a debt to pay to him first before I begin my hunt. And I wanted to make sure that Hawkeye made it safely to your keeping.”
“You are aware who is holding Espen’s leash, right?”
“Aye….that I do. You know it and I know it but I cannot prove it…yet. Don’t worry; there will be a reckoning one day.”
Captain Forlorn waited, her hand still hovered over the hilt of her silver rapier and her weight was on the balls of her feet. “Is that all you want? Your mistress didn’t send you?”
Darnac shook his head. “No. She is currently occupied with other matters and hasn’t mentioned you in decades. And unless she asks me a direct question, your whereabouts will remain unknown.”
As Captain Forlorn leaned back against the railing, the whole crew relaxed; it was almost a tangible thing. The first mate Tok turned his back on the blademaster and began bellowing orders to the crew. Hawkeye didn’t understand a word he said since he wasn’t using the common tongue.
Taking a step toward the captain, Hawkeye held out Kang’s backpack. “I believe payment is in order before we sail.”
Captain Forlorn opened the backpack and whistled at the contents. “Where did you get this?”
“Kang and I killed a scorpion-man thingy about a month ago. Kang liberated that from its lair.”
Darnac and the captain looked at the barbarian with new respect. They both knew how dangerous a girtablu could be, having experienced it firsthand many, many years ago.
Captain Forlorn dug through the backpack quickly and looked back at the barbarian. “You realize this is far more than your fare?”
Hawkeye nodded. “Yes. Kang told me that it was a small fortune. I have no need for gold or jewels but I do need to make it home, quickly and safely. I know that I will be at your mercy once we leave port. It is my hope that paying you the extra coin up front will purchase your loyalty for the trip.”
Captain Forlorn glanced at Darnac then back to the barbarian. “I can see that you are an honest man. That is a rare commodity down here.”
Darnac said, “Aye, those were my thoughts exactly.” The Blademaster faced the barbarian and held out his sword hand. “Hawkeye, once again thanks for your timely rescue.”
Hawkeye grasped the offered arm. “No thanks are necessary. I only did what my conscious and my goddess dictated for me to do.”
“You are a rare individual. I wish you well in the future.”
Turning back to the captain, Darnac reached out and grabbed her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Chikk…until we meet again.”<
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Hawkeye wasn’t sure since she was a dark elf but he was certain the flamboyant captain blushed. Turning away, the Blademaster of Avaris disembarked the ship and disappeared into the chaotic city.
Captain Forlorn tried to regain her bluster and pointed to the cabin at the back of the ship.
“Get yourself aft. We will talk more once we are underway.”
As Hawkeye moved across the deck to join Master Pau and Ronin, he couldn’t suppress his smile. He was on his way home to his wife, at last.
Chapter 16
Rjurik and Khlekluëllin emerged from the smithy covered in sweat, soot and filth.
Cradled in the dwarf’s arms was his creation. It had only been earlier that morning when the god inspired vision had seemed to take on a will of its own. It was as if it needed to be created and in doing so, fed the two warriors energy.
Even now after nearly two days at the forge with no sleep and nothing to eat, they still bristled with energy. The weapon had called to them during its creation, inspiring Rjurik to skills he didn’t know he possessed while whispering to Khlekluëllin to use his magic to heat the raw metal to unnatural temperatures.
The weapon’s blade was slightly curved and razor sharp. Its length was far too long for a dwarf and yet too heavy for an elf to wield comfortably. The hilt was clearly designed for one hand, yet it was long enough for two. The pommel sported a snarling wolf’s head with a moonstone gripped tightly in its teeth. This seemed the strangest part for the two warriors, neither remembered creating the pommel or having a moonstone to place in its mouth, yet there it was. The moonstone seemed to glow a pale white light that the silver edge of the blade picked up and magnified. In the end, Rjurik with Khlekluëllin’s help had created a unique weapon without peer.
Stopping at a water trough just outside the smithy, the two friends bathed themselves in the cold water. They found it to be refreshing as they moved out into the marketplace. Glancing at the great statue of Bromios that stood in the harbor, Rjurik noticed the slightest glow in the star crystal.
Rjurik broke the silence. “Well, it will be dawn shortly. Do you want to get something to eat? I know a bakery right around the corner that makes wonderful scones.”
Khlekluëllin nodded his head and followed his friend. Something nagged at his memory, something about dawn. “Rjurik…” Then it hit him. The challenge! “Dammit!”
Raising an eyebrow Rjurik asked, “What’s wrong?”
Khlekluëllin explained. “When the king was bringing me to find you, one of his bodyguards accused me of having water in my veins.”
Rjurik clenched his jaw at the insult. “So?”
“I returned the insult to him and his three friends which led to the king proclaiming a challenge between them and me this morning at dawn in the Arena.”
Glancing at the star crystal, they could both see the sun rising over the distant mountains to the east. “Well, we best hurry. You’re late enough as it is. Follow me!”
Without waiting to see if his friend was following, Rjurik sprinted off down the street still cradling his creation. Khlekluëllin followed silently as the dwarves in the marketplace started their daily routines. By the time they arrived at the arena it was already packed with hundreds of dwarves. Glancing at the crowd, Khlekluëllin realized that nearly every warrior who wasn’t on duty was in the stands. The four dwarves he had insulted were waiting patiently in the center of the Arena.
Taking off his robe and folding it neatly, Khlekluëllin winked at his friend. “Kind of reminds you of someplace we’ve been before, doesn’t it?”
Rjurik laughed. “Aye, that it does laddie.” He thumped his friend on the back with his stump. “But the crowds here are much friendlier.”
“I sure hope so.” He joined his friend in a light-hearted laugh at the memories of the gladiatorial contests they had been forced to compete in while prisoners of the Dark Alliance. Khlekluëllin nodded his head toward the waiting dwarves. “What do you think are my odds?”
Scratching his short beard, Rjurik cocked his head to one side. “What were the conditions?”
“To first blood or surrender.”
“And the weapons?”
“Our swords.”
“I’d say somewhere around two to one in your favor.” With a smile and a nod of his head toward the crowd, he added, “Although I would guess they are giving somewhere between ten or fifteen to one against.”
Khlekluëllin winked at his old friend. “How about placing a wager for me? A hundred golden eagles would be fine.”
Rjurik snorted. “Have you got a hundred eagles?”
Shaking his head, Khlekluëllin just smiled. “No, but I’m good for it and you know it.”
Rjurik slapped his friend on the thigh. “Aye that you are! Now get out there and win us some money.” As Khlekluëllin was about to turn away, Rjurik grabbed his arm. “Watch Derek Ironhand, he’s a canny fighter.”
Nodding his head, Khlekluëllin moved toward the waiting dwarves. As he stepped into the ring, cheers broke out from the crowd. Not the bloodthirsty cheers he had heard in the Pit when they were fighting for their lives but the cheers of fellow warriors about to see five combatants settle a dispute as warriors, in honorable combat. When he was about twenty feet away, the crowd quieted and the four dwarves dropped to one knee as the king entered the Arena. Not feeling the need to kneel before the dwarven king, Khlekluëllin just stood his ground patiently and quietly.
When the old king had reached the five combatants, the four dwarves rose. Even though King Padric was wearing the same nondescript armor Khlekluëllin had last seen him in; he still radiated the same aura of authority the elf had felt at their first meeting.
Standing in between them, Padric slowly let his gaze roam over each dwarf until their eyes met. Only Derek Ironhand was able to withstand the king’s gaze for more than a few seconds but still he did not meet it for long. Then the old dwarf turned his gaze on Khlekluëllin.
As they locked eyes, Khlekluëllin felt the immense weight that lay on the king’s shoulders. Instinctively Khlekluëllin realized that Padric understood that his kingdom was coming to a great crossroads and that soon he must make a decision. He could tell that the king believed either choice would lead to the death and destruction of his homeland.
The grief and worry must have spread to Khlekluëllin’s face for the king simply nodded and turned back to the gathered dwarves.
Speaking in a loud voice King Padric said, “My people, five fierce warriors stand before you to settle a difference of opinions. They wish to settle their differences in the manner of warriors, by honorable combat. Will you stand as witnesses?”
Every gathered dwarf cried out as one. “Aye!”
Turning to face the dwarves, the king singled out the dwarf with the jagged scar on his face. “Aaron Trollslayer you cast the first insult. Do you wish to retract your comments?”
Aaron shook his head. “Nay.”
The King turned to the tall elf. “Khlekluëllin Amarth you were insulted and insulted back in kind. Do you wish to retract your comments?”
Khlekluëllin nodded his head. “I do. My intentions were not to cause grief or injury to any party.” Placing his hand over his heart, Khlekluëllin bowed slightly. “When I was insulted I reacted in kind to which I am humbly sorry.”
Smiling, the king turned back to the insulted dwarves. “Do any of you accept Khlekluëllin’s apology?”
Immediately Aaron shook his head. “Nay. I will have his blood as my apology.”
Derek Ironhand stepped forward.
“Aye, I will. It takes a man to admit his mistakes. I cannot speak for anyone else but I feel I also owe Khlekluëllin an apology. I let my anger get the best of me and that in itself is unforgivable for a true warrior never gets angry.”
Placing a hand over his heart, Derek bowed slightly. “Khlekluëllin Amarth, please accept my apology and know that the next time we draw swords in sight of each other, it will be as comrades.�
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Nodding his approval, the king glanced at the other pair of dwarves who in turn lowered their eyes, fearful of meeting their liege’s gaze. “Then I declare this matter to be settled in a trial by combat to first blood. You may commence your trial when you hear the bell. May justice prevail.”
Turning around, the King headed back to the waiting crowd with Derek Ironhand two paces behind him. As soon as the king was beyond hearing range, Aaron drew his blade. The other two dwarves mirrored his action.
Smiling a toothless grin, Aaron grunted and said, “I’m gonna gut you like a pig.”
Resting his hand on the hilt of his own blade, Khlekluëllin’s face grew hard. “This contest is to first blood. If you care to make it more than that, I’m sure that can be arranged. However, I suggest first blood. It will be less painful for you.”
For a split second Aaron’s courage faltered and his smile flew from his face. Remembering his two companions behind him, Aaron forced a rough laugh.
“You talk big for a pointy eared elf.” Gesturing to his two friends who just grinned and nodded their head, “Me friends and I are gonna gut you like a pig!”
“You must be as dumb as you are ugly; you already threatened to gut me once. Did you forget that already or is that the most inventive threat you can think of?”
Aaron’s face grew red with anger and Khlekluëllin could see the veins in his neck stand out as he tried to control his rage.
The king’s words interrupted any retort Aaron might have made. “Combatants prepare!”
Khlekluëllin didn’t move, nor did he draw his sword. Shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, he rested his hand lightly on the hilt of his sword while watching his opponents as they moved a few feet apart from each other and pawed at the ground slightly with their feet, showing their impatience.
The king announced once more. “The trial shall commence!”
Tales of the Wolf: Book 02 - Enter the Wolf Page 13