Seeing they kept their distance, he simply offered them a wave, then wrapped his cloak around him and strutted back inside, confident the plan he and Putwyn had hatched earlier in front of his stone gates was well in hand. Marching calmly back through the new opening, he announced, “The beasts seem content to fly at a distance. I dare say you will be able to finish our new addition unharmed,” he practically sang with joy, clamping his great nephew on the arm.
“For now,” he continued, turning to the refugees, “let us give our guests a place to rest and collect themselves, and we will speak later this morning over our breakfast,” he instructed as he floated past and made his way back down the maze of tunnels, the way he had come.
Halls of Stone
Walking through the tunnels of the dwarf kingdom, Rey glanced around them anxiously. Few moved, but behind arches and doorways, he could see the members of their vast society waking and preparing for their day.
Ahead of them, a dark-haired dwarf, shorter than most, led the way. Stopping outside one of the arched entrances, he held up his hand to present the suite that would be theirs.
“Fantastic,” the young man grumbled, finding it far below their accommodations in Jerranyth. Along the far wall stood a set of beds of sorts, with three levels more like racks. The dwarves would have to climb to reach the top, and perhaps even the center, and a wide set of slats had been attached for that purpose. A plain table with four chairs occupied the center of the room, and a large pit on the right-hand wall held a fire. The space open above the flames, he could see clearly into the next room, where a dwarf family was dressing and having their morning meal. “We share a community fire,” he observed, pointing into the next chamber.
“Leave them,” the Mate commanded, dropping his gear on the table and admiring the large mural stitched in the cloth that covered the left-hand wall.
Still with them, Hayt held Zae’s hand firmly, smiling at the girl that nearly matched his height. “I wish to make you comfortable,” he decreed.
“Well, you can start by letting go of her,” Piers clipped, cutting his glare over at the king’s nephew.
Dropping the appendage, Hayt rubbed his palms together, glancing from one newcomer to another. Reaching Animir, he froze, a deep frown etching his features. “You’ve got an elf.”
“Aye,” Bally stepped forward to defend his friend, “but don’t say it like he’s a dog or something.”
Glancing at the girl he had been leading, the dwarf cleared his throat. “Sorry. We don’t get his kind in here.”
“His kind,” Meena groaned, also inspecting the décor. “The king wished to see us, did he not?”
“Yes, once you have prepared to enter his chamber,” their smaller caretaker explained while stepping aside to allow two more dwarves to enter, each of them carrying a basin filled with water.
“I was not aware that dwarves took baths,” Animir sneered, observing as the receptacles were placed on the table, with a dish of soap and a stack of small towels placed between them.
“Only those of rank,” Hayt replied, lifting his chin as he glared at the elf.
Instantly aware of the tension between them, Piers intervened, “We are guests here, Animir. I ask that you respect the dwarves as you have any other creature we have encountered on our quest.”
“Yes, sir,” his target agreed, folding his arms across his chest.
Hayt chuckled to himself, silently observing, The elf takes orders from the mortal. Interesting. Glancing around at them once more, he pondered how his uncle had discovered their presence in the outer cave. “Why do the dragons hunt you?” he asked coolly.
“Why do they hunt anyone?” Piers replied with a full grin, as evenly as their host, not bothering with an honest reply.
“Well, I’ll go first,” Amicia snapped at their posturing, glancing between them. Using the water, she quickly washed her grime-covered face and hands. Drying them on one of the cloths, she grinned, “God if feels good to be clean.” Handing their servant the rag, she then retrieved her brush and mirror from her pack and set about making herself more presentable.
“Are you going to remain with us?” Zaendra grinned timidly at the king’s nephew as the others stepped forward to follow Ami’s example. She had felt instant friendship with their rescuer and hoped to learn more about the dwarf of such unusual stature.
“I would be honored,” Hayt observed, giving her a small bow, which brought a wider smile to her lips.
Nodding at his attempt to be a gracious host, the nymph took her turn at rinsing her dusty flesh, then dried it on a towel as well. Returning it to the servant when she had finished, she looked around them with wide eyes. “Your home is quite lovely,” she praised.
Glancing at one another, the mortals of the group appeared surprised by her observation. But then again, she had not been a guest of the spire, so her frame of reference lacked any points of comparison.
“I believe we are ready,” Piers announced, irritation still clear in his voice.
“Very well,” Hayt agreed, offering his arm to Zae. “Please, come this way.”
Accepting the appendage, the couple strolled ahead of the group, where they passed many more dwarves along the way, none of whom could match the height of the one who had taken a fancy to their dark-skinned companion.
“I think they are as tall as they are around,” Amicia giggled, walking next to Rey. “Quite jolly, as well,” she added, noting their pleasant dispositions.
“I thought from the way everyone in Eriden described them, they would be more hostile, like the trolls,” he agreed, offering her his arm as Hayt had done.
Accepting the appendage, Ami smiled up at him as she surmised in a quieter tone, “Perhaps we should reserve judgement until we know them better. We thought the elves were nice, too, and look how they turned out.”
“Aye,” Rey agreed, calling ahead to their guide. “Do you eat with the king often?”
“Typically, when I’m not busy with the construction crews.” Hayt chuckled, leaning closer to Zae to whisper, “The king is my great uncle,” so only she could hear.
“Wouldn’t they make an odd couple,” Bally chortled at the cozy behavior of the pair in the lead, speaking to Meena as they moved through the corridors.
“Shh,” she warned. “Nymphs who leave the glen are often married to outsiders. Please do not offend the king or his kin with such ignorance.”
“How about do not speak at all,” Piers countered, frowning at the boy. “Not until we are certain where we stand with these people.”
“Aye, sir,” Baldwin agreed, hanging his head slightly at the rebuke.
Arriving at a grand hall, one that would rival even the elves and their magnificent chamber beneath the stars, Amicia gasped in awe, “It is beautiful.” The rustic simplicity of their décor pleased her, helping her tense nerves to relax. Dropping Reynard’s grasp, she turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
A long room, each of the walls held a row of murals similar to the one in their chamber. Candles hung from elaborate chandeliers so that the room was well lit by a hundred small, dancing flames. A single table sat in the center, with chairs lining both sides. A fire burned in a large hearth on the far end, but the depth of the room allowed a few feet between it and the head of the table. Occupying a large chair with a tall back that matched the others, the king sat facing the door, awaiting their arrival. On the closest end sat a smaller seat, where a dwarf woman also waited for them.
“Grandmother,” Hayt greeted her with a bow before he took the chair to her right.
Unsure what to do next, the procession stalled and gathered into a small clump just inside the door. Seeing their confusion, the king called, “No ceremony here. Please enter. Sit.”
Five chairs on each side, there would be plenty of room for them all, and a box was produced for the siren so that she could reach her plate. Seeing they intended to feed her from the roasted meats and breads that lined the center on large platters, A
micia intervened, “Would we be able to have some of the broth for Oldrilin?”
“A siren,” Asyng, the king’s sister, observed. “Yes, of course. She will be tended.”
“Oldrilin has been with us almost since we arrived in Eriden,” Reynard boasted, claiming the seat next to his small friend, with the king to his right. Bally sat between Lin and Zae, facing the empty chair of the group.
On the opposite side of the table, Amicia took the seat next to the mistress, with Animir to her left, while Meena and then Piers filled the two on the other side of the empty seat, next to the king. Glancing around at the group, Amicia emitted a small sigh as she recalled the last time they had shared an actual table, before the dragons burned their cabin to the ground.
A bowl of broth was promptly delivered, and the group only hesitated for a moment before serving themselves from the grand feast. Smiling at the assembly, the king folded his hands and rested them on the table, already counting the reward he would receive.
“Do you always eat like this?” Bally asked, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to speak.
“On occasion,” Baeweth replied, still smiling, at least until he noticed Animir. “Bugger me, he didn’t say anything about one of you being an elf!”
Seated to the king’s right, Piers paused in his consumption, “So, you did dig into our chamber on purpose. Who sent you to retrieve us?” he demanded.
“Well, a dragon, naturally,” the king confessed, studying the collection of misfits more closely. His smile gone, he counted them several times, then inspected their features more closely. “Four humans, a wan, a nymph, a siren, and an elf,” he mused under his breath. Chuckling, he wondered at how such a group had ever formed, much less remained intact.
“A dragon!” Amicia looked up with a smile softening her features, certain she knew the one. “It was Lamwen, wasn’t it!” she claimed, then mumbled, “He’s alive.”
“Lamwen?” the royal stammered. “You mean the former captain of the king’s guard?”
“Former captain,” Rey clarified. “Has something happened to him?”
“He was replaced a few years ago,” Asyng informed him stiffly. Scowling at her elder sibling, she felt unsure about their guests or their intentions.
“Yes, quite right,” the king agreed. “Lamwen was a fierce dragon in his day, but he fell out of favor with Gwirwen and the king’s council twenty or thirty moons ago. He was banished, if not killed, as I have not seen or heard of him in all that time. These days, Vaudien holds the rank of captain of the guard, and he comes and goes across the northern wood whenever he likes,” he rattled, shaking his head to clear it, “but he didn’t make the demand, either. It was a dragon by the name of Putwyn who requested your retrieval,” he professed with a smile, hoping to calm the group.
“Putwyn,” Amicia breathed, unable to hide her sorrow. “Not Lamwen. Why did this other dragon make such an appeal?” she asked aloud, holding the greater question of why the king had agreed under her breath.
“I am not certain why,” Baeweth laughed with a boisterous rolling echo, his jovial mood returning, “but he did promise a handsome reward for your recovery. One I intend to collect.”
Bringing the entire group up short, everyone turned their heads in unison to stare at their benefactor. Pausing in mid bite, the king’s sister glared at him across the length of the table but said nothing. Noticing the stare, Piers mentally tallied at least one possible friend among them; two if Zae’s charms over the tall blond held.
“Well, we are certainly happy you were motivated to agree,” the Mate stated evenly, lifting his mug of grog. “Now we simply hope that this Putwyn has honorable intentions where we are concerned. To the dragons,” he made a toast by wafting his beverage towards the boy across from him.
“Hear, hear,” Rey seconded, lifting his as well and smiling down at his small companion.
Seated across from Hayt, Amicia glanced down the length of the table at him but could not bring herself to join the salute. Lamwen was exiled months ago. That meant the entire time she had known him he had been out of favor. She had always thought Gwirwen had sent him to spy on her, but that might not have been the case.
“My lord, if you please,” Ami began, interrupting the pleasant moment. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Lamwen? He is a dear friend of mine,” she admitted, then paused, realizing she mustn’t reveal too much and may have already done so, “but I have lost track of him as of late. Any news you might share would be most greatly appreciated.”
Staring at the girl, the king blinked rapidly, as if seeing her for the first time. Her blond hair pulled back into a neat braid, she held a regal air about her, one he had failed to recognize. Her insistence on the dragon’s whereabouts bore deeper scrutiny, to be certain. “I could make a quiet enquiry if you would like,” he offered, his smile strained.
Inside, the king’s heart raced. Putwyn had asked that the group be saved, but staring at her, he realized the creature before him was undoubtedly his true target. He would be paid handsomely for her return, and the others would be worthless, he felt certain. Giving her a nod, he felt it wise to hide what he knew, at least for the time being.
“That won’t be necessary,” Piers intervened, leaning forward and giving the girl a stern, shut up glare.
Seeing the look, Amicia sighed, “No, I suppose that it would not be.”
The silence that followed strained, the group finished the meal with only Hayt and Zaendra speaking in small spurts. Seated next to the girl, the dwarf appeared smitten and she equally taken with the fair hair and skin that lay in perfect contrast to her own.
As soon as they had finished the meal, the king stood, announcing, “I will let you know when I have news about your benefactor. I’m certain he fully intends to deliver you safely to the dragon council.”
“He said that?” Piers frowned, finding such a circumstance hard to believe.
“Indeed,” Baeweth affirmed. “He intends to present you to Gwirwen himself from what I was told. Return to your quarters and rest. You are in good hands, my new friends.”
His smile broad, Amicia studied him, almost certain she knew the face of a liar when she saw one. However, none of the others gave any indication of distrust, so she held her tongue on the issue as they followed Hayt back to their chamber.
Arriving outside their door, Zae offered the dwarf her hand as she inquired, “Will you return for our dinner?” Faltering, she gasped, “Or have I presumed too much that we will eat again with your family.”
“You are my uncle’s guests, my lady,” he assured, bowing and planting a small kiss on the soft skin covering the back of her hand. “I am going home for some rest, but I will return for you in the eve and escort you there myself.”
Smiling up at him, the girl curled her fingers as she reluctantly removed herself from his grasp. She had never met a man who gave her heart such a flutter. “I look forward to it,” she breathed, then darted inside with a giggle.
“Did you have a nice breakfast?” Reynard teased, observing the whimsical grin on Zaendra’s typically stoic features.
“It was divine,” she replied, borrowing Amicia’s mirror to toy with her hair.
“Great,” Piers muttered, shaking his head as he turned to Meena. “What did you make of all of it?”
“I do not trust we will be delivered safely to anyone,” his wife warned. “However, what will be done with us is equally hard to define. I do not recognize the dragon he referred to, so it is safe to say he is of no rank, and probably lacks the power to protect us if we are turned over to him as promised.”
“How’d you like the part where the king is getting paid?” Bally sneered.
“Dwarves do little without payment,” Animir replied tartly. “They are well known for their greed.”
“I’m going to have a positive attitude about this,” Reynard countered, stretching out on one of their bunks. “Nothing has really gone the way we think it will, so worrying about
it won’t do us any good, and the good news is we didn’t get burned to a crisp this morning.”
“I have to agree,” Ami sighed, helping Zae with her primping. Noting the girl’s dimpled cheeks and broad smile, her obvious joy lifted Ami’s spirits as it took her mind off of Lamwen.
“So, what are you going to say to Gwirwen?” Piers asked, taking a seat in one of their four chairs.
“Who say?” Bally asked, looking at each of them in turn. “Do you think we will all get to meet him?”
“Amicia,” the Mate clarified. “I believe that we’re on this quest to get her to Adiarwen, where she will meet him. With each step we take it becomes clearer that the dragon cliffs are where we were intended to go from the moment we landed, and I’m simply curious what she will say when we get there.”
“I’m not even certain that is what we are doing here, but your judgement has proven sound a majority of the time.” She grinned as she recalled his one glaringly fatal error and the scar he carried to remind them of it. “If we make it that far, I have no idea what I’m going to say. I haven’t really thought about it,” she added, shaking her head side to side.
“Well, you should get started then,” Rey teased without moving. “If the king is telling the truth then Adiarwen is exactly where we are headed. We will probably be there in a few days, in fact, and you don’t want to stand before the Supreme Dragon and look like a fool, do you?”
“Why me?” Amicia snapped. “You’re the one in charge,” she accused, glaring at Piers.
“Only because you allow me to be,” he pointed out. “In Eriden, nearly everyone we have met has reacted to you and or treated you as if you were our spokesman, and I’m inclined to think the Supreme Dragon will be the same. Therefore, I suggest you plan ahead exactly what you would like to say.”
Staring at the floor, the girl sighed. “Without Lamwen, I really have no idea what good it will do, but I guess I can try.”
“That’s my girl,” the first mate cajoled, standing to wrap her in his arms. Holding her against his chest, he soothed, “And don’t worry about Lamwen. Maybe there’s a reason he has disappeared. It’s only been a few days since we left the cabin, even though it seems like a lot more, and he may turn up yet.”
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