“Good,” says Gunther. “There’s not much space here, but we can make it work.”
As we move the chairs and unpack our bedrolls, I ask Gunther, “How’s the forge been treating you?”
He seems to mutter something under his breath, and then realizes that I’ve said something to him. “Hm?” he says.
“How’s the forge been treating you?” I repeat.
“Well!” he nods. “Haven’t lost any fingers!” His smile soon disappears, however, and he stares into the fire, the reflection of which flickers in his eyes. The orange light floods the house.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath and smiles again. “I’m just so happy to see you again! Tell me what I’ve missed!”
We then proceed to talk about Nicholas and his increasing height, Nathaniel and his love for hunting, and what I’ve been doing in the forge.
“I’m still doing the same old thing,” I say. “But I love it. Making farm tools and butcher knives is what I do. How’s business here?”
“Let me just say that I’ve learned how to forge a good sword,” he says. “The war is taking its toll here and I make more swords than just about anything else.”
“Makes for good business,” I observe. “Any news on the war?”
“Not much,” Gunther replies. “It’s sort of reached a stalemate in Watervale, just west of Corn Lake. No one can gain any ground.”
I nod.
“I’ve heard Tygnar is trying to move on them from the south,” he continues, “But Jarl Kjunn of Kera has been able to hold them off. Who knows for how much longer?”
“I hope all goes well,” I say quietly. “It would be bad for us all if Fearclan were to win this war.”
Gunther agrees with a slow nod, looking into the fire contemplatively. “That’s why we’ll win it,” he says. There are a few moments of silence. “Well…” He stands up and claps my shoulder. “I’m going to get to bed. I have to get up to my forge tomorrow.” He walks to a door on the wall and goes in to what I assume must be his bedroom. “Good night!”
A few minutes later, after the fire has died down and all is dark, I ask Ethan, “Did you notice anything wrong with Gunther?”
“No. Why?”
“Nothing…”
I put my restless thoughts to the back of my head and force myself to sleep.
The next morning, we wake after Gunther has already gone. I find a note on the table that says, “Help yourself to breakfast. What’s mine is yours!”
We take his word to heart. After breakfast we head out of the house, towards the market district.
It’s early enough that the sky is blue and lit, but the sun is not yet over the mountain ridge. Sunlight is making its way down the western mountain faces, and is barely groping the top of Nringnar’s Deep. Trees bask in the sunlight, up and down the mountains.
The market is more alive this morning than it was yesterday evening. People wander in the thin crowd, looking for things they need or want. I find very quickly what I am looking for: a blanket for Nathaniel when he goes hunting. It’s made from assorted animal pelts, but it’s light and warm. That’s all that matters. If I could, I would have loved to buy the Fenrir Wolf pelt; Fenrir pelts are incredibly soft and comfortable, but sadly cost more than what we have. The beasts are tough and don’t come down easily, and on top of that the pelt would have come all the way from Frigys’kon, the land to the southeast, always in a blanket of snow.
Percival has some fun sorting through chess pieces and sets at a particular vendor. He doesn’t buy, but prefers to look.
“Does Gunther have a chess set?” he asks.
“Not that I’m aware,” I say. “I think I beat it out of him.”
“Probably true,” grins Percival.
Ethan somehow convinces me to let him get a small pouch of sugary treats. It’s with his own earnings so I figured he could.
We spend most of the day in the market. Then we make our way back to Gunther’s house.
I get bored rather quickly and decide to go find Gunther at his forge.
It’s not hard to find. I’ve had this city memorized since I was eight. I would come here with my father on little trips to buy supplies, or just for fun.
His forge is just as small as his house and made completely of stone brick, but for the thatched roof. I let myself in.
He glances up from his anvil. “Kadmus! Do you need something?”
“I want to talk to you, Gunther. I haven’t seen you in such a while. What’s really going on?”
He straightens up and his eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you don’t seem yourself. What’s up?”
He smiles slightly and shakes his head at the floor. “You are as perceptive as you are big,” he says.
I sit down in the corner, resting my arm on the old wooden table, with an expression that says, “I’m waiting.”
He sets down his project and sits down across from me. Then he says, “Kadmus…” He shakes his head and covers his face like he’s embarrassed about something.
“What?” I coax.
He shifts in his seat and fidgets with a button on his shirt. “I’m engaged,” he finally says.
My jaw almost hits the floor. Of all things, that was the last thing I expected him to say.
He just stares at me, with the slightest bit of a smile tugging at his lips.
Finally I manage to get out one word: “Serious?”
“Deathly,” he says. I’m silent for long enough that he says, “Are you okay?”
Then I start laughing. Gunther takes it the wrong way and makes to get up, but I grab his arm and say between snickers, “No! That’s great Gunther! I just…”
He raises an eyebrow at me, wondering at what I just.
“I just never thought… the possibility never entered my mind! And it came as such a shock!”
He nods. “Right.”
I calm down and say, “That’s really great, Gunther! Who is this girl?”
He shifts again and says, “She’s visiting this evening.”
“So what were you going to say to us this evening?” He shrugs, and I laugh again. “Do I get to tell mom?”
“Sure,” he says. “Just give it to her soft.”
“Yep.”
“Well, I need to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Will do.”
On the way home, I pass a large board that has all kinds of things tacked up on it. There are a couple of “wanted” posters, and notes requesting workers. What grabs my attention, however, is the parchment tacked in the very middle. It reads:
Mohonri Calls for Aid
Upon the second of Rainfall, the city Poalai was put under attack by the armies of Diagrall. The attack was vigorous but unsuccessful. Although the city remains under control of Mohonri, the following casualties have been recorded:
Mohonri: 264
Diagrall: 314
Honorable Lord Jarl of Mohonri, Archeantus, heir of late High King Tharantus, sends this request to all able-bodied men that desire to resist the conquest of Diagrall. More soldiers are needed with every dawn. You are needed.
To every man that enlists in the armies of Mohonri, a considerable sum of wealth or land will be bequeathed at the war’s end.
Underneath, the parchment has a list of every clan and their standing in the war reading either hostile, neutral, or ally. The hostiles read Diagrall, Tygnar, and Zjod. Ryth, the orcs, and Cumeran, the men of the north, both read “neutral.” Herak and Gilgal both read “ally.”
“It’s a sad thing.”
I turn, startled. It’s an older man, balding, with thin brown hair and a well-kempt beard. His eyebrows are thick. He wears an eye patch over his right eye. He’s tall and leaning on a cane that he holds in his right hand, and he’s reading the same parchment I had been studying.
“I’m sorry?” I say.
“It’s a sad thing to see the world at war again.”
>
“Is that where you got your…” I’m struggling to find the right word, but can’t.
“No,” he replies. “I’m not that old. I got this from a Wvolfa many years ago, when a rogue party of them raided my small town.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Indeed. They’re horrible creatures. Killing, making off with food and supplies, showing no mercy to women and children.” Before I can respond, he continues, “This clan, Diagrall. It’s just like those Wvolfa. Horrible. Driven by selfishness. Conquest to have power over others.” He looks at me and I glimpse a tear in his eye. It does not fall. His age has made him shaky, almost like he’s constantly shivering. “I wonder how long before they pull away our sons. Before they pull away our fathers. Before our crops are burned and our wives ravished.”
The old man looks me in the eye, as if discerning the darkest corners of my soul. I return his gaze for a moment, and then he speaks, “But they will have to get through you.”
I’m a little surprised by his comment, and say only, “We’ll see.”
He turns slowly and starts to hobble away saying, “It’s a sad thing.”
When Ethan and Percival ask me what I had been out doing, I just reply with, “Oh, nothing.”
Gunther arrives a few hours before sundown. When he walks in, I give him a sly wink and he just raises his eyebrows slightly.
There’s a knock at the door only minutes later, while we are eating our small bowls of stew. I lean back in my chair and cross my legs, hiding a small smile with my hand.
Gunther answers the door and trades a few words with the visitor, and then pulls the door wide open. “This is Rachel,” he says. James’ eyes widen. Percival shifts in his chair and crosses his legs. Ethan takes another bite of stew.
She’s pretty. Her eyes are blue and her hair is straight and brown; she has a small, skinny build, but her posture presents her as strong and in charge. Her smile is brilliant.
“This is James and Percival, a few friends from Virfith.” Gunther gestures to each of us as he says our names. “And this is Ethan and Kadmus, my younger brothers.”
She curtsies and says, “Nice to meet you!”
James just nods, his mouth slightly agape. The other three of us say together:
“Thanks.”
“You too!”
“And you as well.”
“Everyone,” continues Gunther, “Rachel and I are engaged.”
Percival smiles slightly and Ethan suddenly almost falls out of his chair. Rachel laughs faintly.
“When?” I ask.
“In a couple of weeks,” he answers, holding his fiancé around the waist. His smile gets a little bigger as he says it.
Ethan gets back into his chair and says, “Wow! Can I tell Mom?!”
Gunther glances at me and I give him a why-are-you-looking-at-me-it’s-your-marriage look.
“Better let Kadmus do that,” he says.
“Why?” Ethan whines.
“Because Kadmus will let her know soft and easy. That way she won’t die of shock.”
Ethan grumbles something and takes another bite of stew.
“Congratulations!” says Percival simply.
James finally musters up the ability to speak, but only says, “Whoa.”
Rachel only stays for a few minutes. We talk about the family she’s from, and her father’s career. It becomes obvious soon that we’re just as interested in learning about her as she is about us.
As soon as it starts to get dark, she says something about getting home and Gunther offers to escort her. She accepts, of course, and Gunther comes back a few minutes later. As soon as he walks in, James says, “You lucky man.”
We tease him for a moment, mostly out of jealousy, but the conversation quickly turns to when we will be leaving.
“Tomorrow morning,” I say. “We don’t want to stay and eat all of your food.”
“I appreciate that,” he says. “Early?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be up, hopefully. If I’m not, get me up to see you off.”
“Will do.” And with that, each of us trails off to bed.
The next morning Gunther is awake and active right when we are. He’s generous enough to let us take a little something for lunch. But just as we’re walking out the door I say, “Hold on. I need to get something. Go on, I’ll catch up.”
Gunther’s sitting at the table, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. “What’s up?” he asks.
The mild question hangs in the air and burns at me. Finally I answer, quietly, “I’m just wondering how you’re doing.”
He gets up and looks at me suspiciously. “Fine,” he says.
“No,” I answer. “How are you really doing?”
A confused expression sweeps across his face, followed by sorrow.
“I miss you guys, Kadmus,” he says. “Here we get just about weekly updates concerning the war, and I’m afraid I’m so far away that if anything should happen to you, I won’t be able to get there in time.”
He furrows his eyebrows and stares at the floor, waiting for a reprimanding remark. Instead I say, “You’re only a day away.”
“Just a few minutes could make all the difference.”
He does have a point, but after a minute of silence, I say quietly, “But you have family here.”
He nods slightly.
“In a few weeks, you’ll have a wife. After that, you’ll have kids.”
“I did it without telling you. You guys are my family.”
“That’s okay. You have a future here. We could be farther away, really. But we’re not. You have a great job, great friends, a house, and, soon, at least, a new family. You have good reason to stay here.”
He nods, envelops me in a hug and claps me on the back. “Love ya.”
“Love you too.”
He pulls away and I say, “Oh! I almost forgot!”
“What?” I punch him twice. Not very hard, but solidly. He recoils and exclaims, “What was that for?”
“One was from Frederick and the other was from Father. For not bringing grandchildren yet.”
“Ah.” He rubs his shoulder where I hit him, and nods.
“So, you do want me to tell Mother about your engagement?”
“That would be best. I think it would make her faint for a week if I waltzed into town one day with a wife and a son.”
I nod. “I’ll break it to them slow. But I won’t tell our brothers; I’ll let Father do that. Assuming Ethan doesn’t tell them first.”
“Sounds good.”
“You tell us when Rachel’s expecting.”
He immediately gets what I mean and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know somehow.”
Ethan pounds on the door impatiently.
“You’d better go,” says Gunther. “Ethan’s getting mad.”
“You stay safe,” I say as I walk towards the door. I throw him a coin as payment for the food.
“You go find a girl,” he says, and then gives me a wink as he throws back the coin.
“I’ll work on it,” I answer, opening the door and tossing the coin back to him.
“You’d better!” His smile is the last thing I see before I catch the coin and shut the door behind me. I wonder what he’ll think when he sees the small pile of coins I left in his cupboard.
I feel much better after that, like our mission here was more than just to get something for Nathaniel. Gunther is with us again.
Hunting Trip
It’s always sad to see Gunther’s house disappear behind the adjacent block. Nringnar’s Deep stays in sight until we exit the front gate and start across the bridge spanning the canyon.
The trip home is uneventful. The only reason we don’t stop at Highrock Lookout is because a patrol of guards has made camp there. They eye us suspiciously but don’t do anything to hinder our trek.
We eat lunch in a small clearing.
James gets stung by a bee. It was a little shocking to us all be
cause from nowhere he was suddenly yelling curse upon curse, maliciously stomping on an already-dead bee.
It’s always easier coming down the mountain than hiking up. Naturally we make much better time, and walk into town around mid-afternoon. James slips away from us and says something like, “See ya later.” Percival follows suit a couple of blocks later. The sight of home is fabulous, even if it’s been only a few days. After a few weeks, it’s even better.
I have a nice little chat with Ethan before we walk in, telling him to not say anything concerning Gunther’s engagement. To my surprise, he does as I say and keeps quiet.
Mother hugs us each and asks how it was, and I say fine. Ethan runs off to the room he shares with Nathaniel and Nicholas, and that’s when I take the opportunity to tell Mother.
“Where’s Nathaniel?” I ask.
“Down at the forge with your Father.”
“Good.” I pull the new blanket out of my pack and present it.
“Fantastic. You paid Gunther right?”
“Of course!”
“He accepted it?”
“No. I just hid a little bit in one of the cupboards we helped empty.”
“Ah.”
“There is something I need to talk to you about though.”
“Well, let’s talk.”
I have no idea how to bring it up gently, so I decide to come up with some sort of game. “Guess what’s happening with Gunther. Soon.”
Mother raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Guess.”
“Is he coming back?”
“No. I think he wanted to, but I managed to persuade him otherwise.”
Her eyebrows point in an arrow at me. “Why would you-”
“It has to do with the surprise,” I say mysteriously. “Any other guesses?”
“He got a job as a goat-breeder?” She’s just joking sarcastically now, so I decide to tell her.
“Don’t freak out when I tell you,” I say, knowing that she will anyway. “Gunther’s getting married.”
Stunned silence. She stares at me with her mouth agape for probably a minute. Then slowly, very slowly, the corners of her lips start to come up. She cups her hands over her mouth and says, “Oh my… Oh my…”
I thought her reaction would be a little louder. And maybe a little more violent.
Dragonhammer: Volume I Page 3