“This city belongs to my kin. A treaty was signed in 1625db and we left Lashkar Gah to come here as agreed. We lived peacefully until you maggots sided with the very demons we protected you from and almost killed us.” The Dragon spoke to anyone who was still close enough to hear it. “But you failed. The ancient treaty of peace will be honored or blood will be spilt. My children come to call this place home. Seven times the moon will rise and we will return. Prepare a feast for our forgiveness or we will show you the true power your ancestors feared.” The black Dragon king roared before beating its wings once more knocking even more rubble loose from the nearby buildings and vanishing up into the sky. William knelt staring at the still crumbling Dean estate. He had wanted a daring rescue or diversion but he had not been prepared for this. He’d heard rumors from his fleet in the past about Dragons swooping down and stealing their haul of fish but he’d always put it down to the empty kegs of rum that returned with said ships. Dragons were not real. They had all been killed off, or so the stories had said. It seemed Williams’ perfect chance to escape had been missed as by the time his thoughts returned to him Annar, Ingaild’s second in command had appeared in the clearing blocking his escape.
“Looks like you two have had a turn of luck. Ingaild will want all able bodied men to fight that thing. We have not forgotten the power of Dragons. Men get these two back to the dungeon.” Annar called out glancing at the damage the Dragon had caused in only a single pass. The Dean estate still stood and the large white slabs it had been made form seemed stable enough but clear chunks had been ripped free and the scars clearly represented the claws of the dragon. William could see fear in Annar’s eyes. He hid it well but it was there. Annar had fought every kind of soldier Neeska had to offer but the Dragon. That would be a worthwhile challenge.
Chapter twenty – Going Underground “ So I told her my uncle was chef mining second tunnel lead operative and then I slapped her on the arse.” The drunken Dwarf announced loudly to the bar in general as no one seemed to be listening to him. The Dwarf had latched onto Calvin when he and Fintan entered the tavern earlier that evening. The pair had been in the Dwarfen city for a few days and had spent most of that time in the crowded bar growing more resentful of the Dwarfs that offered them a kind of hospitality normally saved for stray dogs. Their discontent was a stark contrast to the amazement they had when they first entered the massive city build into the mountain itself. The technology the Dwarfs kept very much to themselves had not reached the outside world and was something to behold. Pressed in between the colossal pillars and tunnels were huge pipes that ran along the low ceilings churning with the sound of water rushing through them being pumped up from the under dark. The Dwarfen race was hundreds of years ahead of the rest of Valadfar when it came to their industrial revolution and they had running water, electric and an industry based around their huge humming machines. The tunnels were lit with lights not fueled by flame but from some humming source not even the elder mage Calvin could name. The heat from the pipes warmed the air around them and in places steam escaped in short sharp jets. The muddle of tunnels opened up into an enormous underground cavern that could have easily housed Neeskmouth and this was where the city of the Dwarfs had grown. Mine shafts and more gloomy tunnels were dotted out randomly from the edges of the Dwarfen city. They hummed with the same constant noise from machinery that Fintan and Calvin were now accustomed to sleeping through. The many buildings joined the thumping mess of noise that seemed to be generating the smog that filled the warm and wet air. Calvin and Fintan’s amazement had faded swiftly the longer they spent in the smoke filled tunnels however. The gas used in the lighting made their throats sore and the Dwarfs seemed less than happy to have the pair there at all. The racism for the topside races was ever present. The last of any awe they might have had faded with the fat drunkard sitting next to them that evening, as with every other night they had been unlucky enough to have been stuck in that particular inn. He met every stereotype that gave Dwarfs a bad name. He was short, fat and bearded. His breath smelt of cheap tobacco and stale ale. He was stinking drunk and barely coherent to anything but his stories of conquests in the darkness which he repeated loudly over and over regardless of anyone actually paying any interest. His bear belly protruded like he was hiding a watermelon under his jerkin and the rather fine looking red clothes were stained with homebrew and shards of broken peanut husks.
“ Look. I’ve asked you more than once now to politely leave us alone.” Calvin said his patience had all but gone. They had been stuck in the Dwarfen halls for almost a week now waiting to see the king. Calvin and Fintan had got to see a Stewart, the equivalent of a noble in human lands, almost straightaway as they entered the city. He seemed to appear from nowhere running up to them as they came down the stone steps that lead in from the main tunnel into the city proper. Things looked to be moving on quickly, which was wonderful considering their eyes had already started to sting from the smog and their ears ringing from the noise. The thick choking smog was almost as unbearable as the ash of the Scorched Lands. The pair were overjoyed that they had seen the Steward so quickly and had promise of returning to the fresh mountain air, but then things had taken a bad turn. They were offered free lodging while they waited to speak to the king as he was ‘otherwise engaged’ at the moment. That had been four days ago. The days seemed to have passed slowly in the continual murkiness of the oddly buzzing lights that seemed to do little to battle the darkness. They found it hard to breathe and both Calvin and Fintan were at their wits end. They had buried a friend not long before and now tried to outrun the wings of a Dragon lord and every second they spent trapped waiting here gave it time to continue its conquest across Neeska. Calvin could not feel it anymore its distance too great from them, which was a blessing and a curse both.
“ Leave you alone? Leave you alone.” The pot bellied Dwarf spat in reply to Calvin’s request for some peace and quiet. “I’m doing you a favor I am. Not many down here that would sit and share ale with a long legged old coot and a pointy eared tree monkey.” The gruff and rotund Dwarf slurred through a mouth of froth. He tried to guzzle down more of the foul smelling brew while still talking. It amazed Fintan that the Dwarf didn’t choke. If it wasn’t for the fact it would take next to nothing to set the powder-keg that was the tavern off and have a bar full of short but stocky Dwarfs brawling with them then Fintan would have kicked the noisy Dwarf clear off his stool.
“ Brill you tired old windbag shut up and leave our guests alone.” A new voice piped up from the general area of the taverns low doorway to the surprise of the drunken Dwarf now known as Brill. The new comer was a woman. She wore a similar style fabric as the drunk but hers looked far less stained and more lavish. The regretful and depressed look in her eyes showed it was highly likely she was married to Brill.
“ Women who do you think you’re talking to. I’m your king.” Brill slurred and Calvin almost fell from the short stool he was struggling to clamp his aged knees against. That was another thing that had made their time underground even less pleasant. The chairs were tiny, about the size of children’s in nursery and the beds were not much better and even the dumpy Calvin had gotten use to his legs hanging over the edge from the knee down.
“You’re the king ?” Calvin coughed in shock. They’d seen the drunken Dwarf at the bar every night since they had arrived in the undercity. They disliked the bar and its company didn’t seem too keen on the travelers either but it was the only place that seemed to serve anything that wasn’t made of rat or bat. The whole time they had been here eating waiting to see the king the drunken fool had been dancing, singing and falling all over the place night after night. At one point he had even taken to dancing on the bar while trying to strip before he was escorted out by the barkeep and his son. Calvin had been barred from a few taverns in his younger days for a few drunken party tricks and couldn’t understand how this old fool was allowed in night after night, especially as he didn’t seem to pay but now
it was painfully clear. Brill was the blasted king.
“ King of the half wits, aye, that’s him” Brills wife said rolling her eyes. It was very apparent that her love for this man must be strong or she would have never put up with him but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t clip his ear if he spoke out of turn. “Now if you don’t want me to take a rolling pin to the side of your head ‘your majesty’ I’d suggest you get your worthless hide back home.” The oddly muscular Dwarfen women said and the king obeyed. “Sorry for him gentleman, he’s a good Dwarf but the drinks got the better of him ever since the mines collapsed. So I hear you have wanted to see the King?” She said with a smirk. “Well sorry to say he won’t be able to help you much not until he sobers up and if the last few years are anything to go by I’d get yourself comfy on that one.” Joani said not showing any of the shame she felt from her husband’s downward spiral. “Anyway we don’t trade with outsiders any more. Us Dwarfs can’t afford to get dragged into another pointless war.” Joani Goldhorn Queen of the Goldhorn Dwarfs said as she flicked one of the long darkened brown snake-like dreadlocks’ from her face. She was a pretty, in a certain light, but butch looking woman. Her hair was long but had been platted into unwashed dreadlocks. She didn’t wear a crown or anything else to mark her as royalty and looked uncomfortable in the fine clothing that she was wearing. Joani’s defined and toned arms showed she either trained as a warrior or worked in one of the mining tunnels. Her stance demanded people take notice of her and it was plain to see that she was the true governing force of the Dwarfen people, by fist or by voice it would seem.
“ We don’t want to trade but it is war that is coming. The Dragons are back.” Fintan piped up from his own shrunken stool by the bar. He looked even more out of place than Calvin did. At least Calvin was shorter and fat and he even had a beard. Fintan looked like a shiny metal wrapped bean pole compared to the inhabitants of the under dark but he remembered the stories he’d heard as a boy. They had been about the Dwarfen heroes of Gologan and he couldn’t believe they were all as useless as the drunks in the bar.
“ So the stories are true then.” Joani said flatly. “I’d heard as much.” She paused in thought. “Some reckoned it was Dragons that collapsed mining shaft four a few months back. Baby ones set fire to a few barrels’ of blast powder and brought the whole shaft down. I’d put it down to smoking while working but couldn’t prove it either way. I’ll need time to think on this.” She said nodding to the barkeep and preparing to turn and follow her drunken husband, who hadn’t made it all that far down the corridor taking as many steps sideways as he did forwards.
“ You haven’t got time to think. We need your husband to send troops to Neeskmouth like in the Great War.” Fintan said rather naively and Calvin shot him a look before shaking his head slightly. The old mage Calvin had a fair few years on Fintan and he had seen women like Joani before. You needed tack to get what you wanted from them. It had to seem like it was their idea. Giving them demands was a sure fire way to find a frying pan in place of where your teeth had been.
“What my young friend here meant your majesty is. We need you to tell his majesty he has to help us. Time is of the essence.” Calvin said trying to save the conversation from heading down a needlessly violent route
“ We don’t have much of an army to send anymore. No need for one. We have a few archers and the mountain itself lined with enough blasting power to sunder the rock to dust. It would only take a handful of sober Dwarfs to lay waste to the biggest siege you could get up the mountain.” Joani said half to herself. She didn’t have the army she once would have had to send to aid the topsiders with. There had been no need for them for almost a century.
“Are you saying you will not lend any aid to us ?” Fintan asked. Dwarfs had come to the aid of Elf’s at the fall of the Earth Mother. They had been the turning point in the war and were hailed as heroes in his home of the Alienage. He could not believe the mighty yet short warriors he had heard so many stories about would turn out to be no better than humans.
“ Now I didn’t say that? I just needed time to think.” Joani said her pretty yet shrunken features curling as she thought hard “Our doors have been closed to your kind for many a year now.” Joani stopped again clearing trying to remember her history lessons. “Ninety years ago we closed our doors as the Dwarfs were tired of fuelling the pointless wars you humans take against each other. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing for the Dragons to keep you under control.” She said and her features didn’t change. It was impossible to see if she was joking or not.
“How long once the Dragons retake Neeskmouth before they come hunting here for food or sport. Can your traps and explosives clear them from the skies?” Calvin said not hiding his annoyance. He had not had a decent night’s sleep in weeks and all he wanted to do now was get this over and done with and he did not want to wait for Joani or her drunken husband Brill to ‘think’ for too long. The anger in him surged and Calvin barely felt Rinwid wash back over him.
“ Joani Goldhorn you will listen well to this mage. Your kind more than most knows what would happen if Dragons claimed this mountain.” A new voice echoed out from inside of Calvin and the bar fell silent. “The Under Dark would not take long for an army of slaves to clear. The pathways reopen. The Dragons would spread feeding on your kin, Every last Kingdom belonging to Dwarfen kind would fall. It almost happened once before. You know of this and no doubt you already realize what I am and my goals. Yet you will help. For you must, it is in your nature.” Rinwid gurgled out from inside Calvin’s throat shocking him almost as much as it shocked the rest of the bar. Silence fell over the drinkers not even the clinking of glass or tankard could be heard as they all stopped motionless. The barkeeper himself had frozen still. He held open the tap to a massive keg that lay against the wall spilling a fine golden flow out across the floor.
“ So mage, you brought a demon in here with you?” Joani said her hand sliding down her side slowly clutching the staff at her side. The look in her eyes showed she would hold no quarter if it came to killing the old man standing in front of her.
“I mean no harm and Rinwid is under my control. For now ” Calvin said feeling all eyes in the bar on him. Rinwid had remained absent for days. Calvin had even started to forget about the ordeal expecting that Rinwid might just leave them alone but it seemed he was less asleep then Calvin had thought. Just like that the rushing memories started slurring through his head again. The coppery taste returned to his mouth. Rinwid was still as much a part of him as the beard on his face. He may have chosen to retract but he had not released Calvin.
“ I should kill you both now where you stand and drag your body back to the surface. But that demon is right. I will have to do what my husband is unable to. I will travel with you to Neeskmouth and make the arrangements. We will bring as much ore for weapons and powder to bring the beasts down as we can.” Joani stopped and took in the risk of the old man. “You two are never welcome in my city again. Go topside now and wait for me. I will come by nightfall.” Joani said never taking her hand from the club like staff. Neither Fintan nor Calvin dare question her orders. They would not have left the city alive if they did. So it was that they made their way up and out of Goldhorn Halls to sit in the sun of the last day of Nylar waiting for Joani Goldhorn Queen of the Dwarfs to join them as they continued the journey back to Neeskmouth. Not with the army they had hoped to rise but hopefully the arms and explosives would be enough to turn the odds into their favor.
It had amazed both Fintan and Calvin how swiftly the preparations’ had been made. Within hours the first horse drawn cart rattled out from the huge mouth of the mountain. It was loaded up with barrel after barrel stacked five high and bound by rope. It would have been enough explosives to level half the city when they reached it and it was not alone. Moments later a second and third cart rolled out carrying the same. The forth cart held nothing but pristine ore ready to craft into weapons. A final fifth cart rolled out and at its reigns Jo
ani sat in a fluffy white shawl that looked like it had been taken from a mountain goat. This matched the short skirt that was made of the same material and sat just above her tree trunk like legs. She looked much more comfortable in what was clearly warm but minimal fighting attire. Her stomach was exposed to the world, she obviously was not afraid of the chill that still lingered to the air and only a small leather halter top maintained her dignity. Fintan’s eyes were drawn instantly to the glint of the golden dagger that sat nestled in Joani’s belt. It was of Elvin design but the gold used was Dwarfen. It hinted of a time long ago when Elves must have called this continent home before even the time of the Earth Mother. It must have been millennia’s old but it still looked as sharp as a cat claw.
Dragons Blight (Valadfar Book 1) Page 23