In The Depths Of Winter

by Bradley Mitzelfelt

  It wasn’t long before they drew near and Shakrin stopped to crouch down. Dearic couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He squatted and peered out around all of the boulders, keeping an eye on the passage between mountains. There wasn’t any sign of movement, but it was clear to see where the creatures had tread through the area. Debris and giant imprints were left in the ground.

  “Whatever they are, they’re really heavy. The soft ground left big imprints,” Dearic said, pointing to the space where feet had left impressions.

  “Giant metal monstrosities are likely to do that.”

  “The remind me of the golems that my people used to have. We lost that technology ages ago, though. The last people to make them were a former Chief Engineer, the Gear Master, Elian Groenwold, and a couple of his underlings, but that was a few hundred years ago.”

  “These seemed a lot stranger than anything we’ve ever seen from your kind. I doubt it’s comparable to your machinations. They moved too smoothly for such a thing.”

  Dearic frowned, but conceded that Shakrin was probably right. Whatever these things were, they were nothing like what he’d seen depictions of back in Brivan. The weapons they had were strange, almost like magic. He’d never seen magic act that way though. It wasn’t flame, and it wasn’t just light. Light doesn’t cause explosions, and flame isn’t ever a pure beam. This was something strange. Strange and very dangerous. I wish we could follow them and learn more about them.

  “Let’s go. We need to get back and report this to the Hallmaster.”

  Shakrin started walking again, so Dearic followed after him. Somewhere in the other direction those machines were making their way through the countryside in search of who knew what. He was glad they hadn’t found the Hall, though. That would have been very bad. He wasn’t even sure he could fend them off even with his magic.

  They approached the door. The others were already there, crouched nearby, as he and Shakrin climbed up the mountain. A signal was passed between the lead dwarf and Shakrin, but the latter didn’t stop as he approached the door. He tapped his metal gloved hand against the stone in a subtle pattern, and the door begin to open. As it did, the other dwarves stood and moved swiftly inside. Dearic and Shakrin followed them in.

  The door shut behind them, and they trudged back down the ramp that they’d climbed up not long before. No one said anything. The only sound was the trudging of feet along the stone floors, and their resounding echoes through the hall.

  They marched out of the chamber and into the garrison room where everyone started removing their armor. Everyone but Dearic because he didn’t really have any. I should really do something about that. Maybe I’ll ask Dwemorin when I see him again since the dwarves don’t really trade goods anymore. They probably don’t have any spare sets for a human lying around.

  He was going to have to do it at some point, but it wasn’t the time for it yet.

  “I’m going to go report our findings to the Hallmaster,” Shakrin said. The dwarf was already getting back into his typical work clothes. His eyes turned towards Dearic as he pulled on a boot. “Alone.”

  Dearic frowned. The dwarf still didn’t trust him, or like him. I wish I could say I understood it, but I don’t. Yeah, Fanan was injured when I brought her, but she’s fine now and off on some other mission. You’d think after this long he would get over it. He shook his head and finished putting his cloak back, neatly folded.

  If Shakrin was going to go talk to his uncle on his own then so be it. He didn’t have the right to intrude. Instead, he stood and walked out of the garrison and down the halls in the direction of his rooms, only to be intercepted by that same dwarf girl he’d met before.

  “Hey,” Vahneen said, grinning at him. “Are you available now?”

  Right. Forgot I fed her that line. Aiyana made a convenient excuse but it won’t work a second time. He shook his head at her and sighed. If she was going to be this persistent it might be in his best interest to indulge her at least a bit.

  “Depends on what you’re inquiring about?”

  “To go mining! I need some ore for work and the other dwarves don’t want to bring it to me. Something about me having come from one of the other, older, halls.”

  “You aren’t from Pabila?”

  “No. I’m from Zelus.”

  Dearic blinked in confusion at what she said. This was not a hall that he was familiar with. Granted the only one he’d ever really known about was Pabila. It was the largest, and closest to Brivan. Most of the other halls had dwindled out of existence over the years, as well. Knowing about them seemed hardly useful.

  “I’ve never heard of Zelus,” he said. “Where’s that at?”

  “Well, it’s more like where was it at,” Vahneen said, her eyes drifting downward and her hands clinching a bit of the tunic she was wearing. “It used to be in the Spirals. Now there’s nothing left of it. A human mage destroyed it with an army of goblins.”

  “I- I’m sorry.” He lifted a hand to run it through his hair. “How many of you survived?”

  “Just me. I was the only survivor. And it’s only because I wasn’t there.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been hard to lose your family.”

  “I didn’t have any,” she said, shaking her head. When she looked back up at him she smiled. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now. I’m here and you’re here and we’re going to have some fun!” She looked at him sternly, hands on her hips as she did so. “Right?”

  “That depends on what you plan on doing.”

  “We’re going to mine and explore the lower levels. That’s all. And I won’t take no for an answer!”

  To emphasize the point, she reached out, grabbed his arm, and started dragging him off down the tunnels. It looked like he wasn’t being given much choice. From patrolling to mining. He was having one strange day.

  Chapter Four

  “You know, this would be a lot more enjoyable if you weren’t dragging me,” Dearic said as he tugged against the dwarf woman’s grip. “I’d feel less like a hostage and more like a companion then.”

  The grip on his arm lessened a bit as Vahneen looked back at him. She seemed to study him for a moment before she released his arm altogether. They’d been walking for some time now, and the pair had gotten more than a few strange looks from other dwarves. It wasn’t abnormal for them to see him meandering the tunnels, but to see him being drug along by the outsider dwarf was an anomaly.

  Then again, two anomalies together might make a norm. He didn’t know and he didn’t really care. This whole thing about going mining with Vahneen seemed strange enough as it was. Not exactly his chosen method of relaxation.

  “You complain a lot, you know that?” Vahneen asked as she turned down a side hall, heading further into the depths of the mountain.

  “I do not.”

  “Yeah, you complain more than anyone I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of people. Is that what you humans, do? Complain?”

  “No. We don’t just go around complaining. I only complain because people seem to think they can boss me around just because I’m a human and you’re all dwarves. I might be a guest here, but I’m not a servant or slave and I do not appreciate being treated as such.”

  Vahneen made a puppet with her hand and he could just make out her muttering the exact words he’d said moments before, making it look like her hand was saying what he’d said. He rolled his eyes. I’m starting to think Shakrin sent this one to me because he knew she would annoy me. She can’t really want to get me into bed. That’s just absurd.

  “Would you stop that?”

  She did the hand puppet again. At this point he decided that his best bet for not sounding whiny was to keep his mouth shut. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he’d noticed over the past few months that he’d become increasingly more self-aware and self-absorbed. He did hate it. These feelings, and the way he was acting, wouldn’t do anything to fix what had already come to pass.

 
I need to stop being like this, but I know that’s hard to do. One friend is dead, another was seriously injured and now sent away from me. Our other companion was the one we were hunting and I let her escape. So many mistakes.

  “You’re looking rather broody.”

  He looked up, or down, rather, and saw that Vahneen had stopped, and apparently he had as well. He’d just not noticed it. The dwarf woman was staring up at him with her head tilted slightly and her eyebrows raised.

  “I was just thinking.”

  “Yeah, that would be brooding. As I said.”

  “Fine, I was brooding. Yes. Are you satisfied now?”

  “A bit, yes.” She grinned at him and then promptly punched him hard enough in the arm that he winced. “Stop brooding. You almost ran me over before you stopped.”

  “Sorry.”

  “And don’t start apologizing, either. That quickly becomes annoying.”

  “Sorry.”

  “What did I just say?”

  He clamped his mouth shut so he didn’t say it again.

  “That’s better,” Vahneen said. “You humans should be a happier sort. It suits you better. So tell me, what’s drug you to the depths of self-pity and despair?”

  “I don’t think it’s really any of your business.”

  “Of course it’s not. That’s why I asked!”

  “If it’s none of your business, why should I answer you?”

  “Because it’ll help you stop pouting. I heard what you were like when you first came here, you know. All strong, despite your wounds, rushing a wounded cousin to safety. You had fire, too. Now you’re just another grunt doing the Hallmaster’s bidding. Why?”

  Dearic rubbed his arm and turned away from her. If he told her, he’d be confiding in one of the strangest dwarves he’d ever met, and that was saying something since the prior holder of that title was Fanan. If I don’t tell her she’ll just pick at me until I get angry, and she’s probably right about it helping me. He lowered his arm and turned his gaze on her.

  “I know you know what it’s like to lose family and friends. You lost your entire city. But what if you were leading people on a hunt for a murderer, and one of your companions was killed, another injured, because you hadn’t seen that the last of your companions was, in fact, the murderer?”

  The dwarf blinked at him. “So, that’s what happened to the Ironshield girl?”

  Dearic sighed and nodded, moving past her as he started back down the tunnel. “Yes, that’s what happened.”

  “Nobody can see everything coming, you know.”

  “But I should have seen it. All the signs were there! She was acting strangely, and very much unlike a cleric. She was often saying things in a Vale dialect. And she kept trying to start a relationship with me-”

  “Well, at least she had good taste.”

  “It’s not funny!” Dearic shouted as he spun around on her, causing her to draw to a stop in a hurry. “I lost a good man out there because I couldn’t stop thinking with something other than my brain! I got him killed because I thought she liked me and I let my guard down with her. Then Fanan got injured because of her as well. Not only that but my people are marching to a war that I could have stopped if I’d only opened my eyes before we’d left Sessan.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. It was no use yelling and shouting at the dwarf about it. After all, it wasn’t her fault and he knew that. She’d just been trying to lighten up his foul mood a bit.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, lowering his hand and opening his eyes once more.

  “It’s alright,” Vahneen said before offering him a smile. “Now you’ve gotten it all out there! It’s not all pent up inside of you. Maybe I can help you work through it. After all, you’re just wasting yourself by pouting all the time.”

  “I can’t argue with that. I’m just afraid if I try to do anything, I’ll end up doing it again. Not to mention I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop the war. It’s at least half over by now, most likely.”

  “More than likely.”

  “I can’t go hunt the woman down because I haven’t a clue how to get to her, though I know where she likely went. And who knows where the Hallmaster sent Fanan off to? I’ll probably never see her again.”

  “Probably not, but at least she isn’t dead, right?”

  Dearic nodded. That was true. She wasn’t dead. I did save her life. Yeah, I lost some people because of my stupidity, but I didn’t lose all of them. I managed to stop things before it got worse. And now I’’ve learned to use Magic, in a way. Maybe I can find Draen’e with it. He started walking again.

  “Speaking of which, I heard that you didn’t arrive through the front doors when you brought her in. How did you manage to get in?”

  “There’s a tunnel from out in the Valley of the Mists. In the old trading town there. We kind of fell into it and then Shakrin brought us here,” he said before he glanced down at her. “Why?”

  “Just wondering. I didn’t know there were other entrances.”

  Well, no harm in wondering. They walked onward for a while, each not saying too much, which was a blessing for Dearic. He was starting to get tired of listening to her. Actually he’d been tired of listening to her ever since he met her, but he wasn’t going to outright say that. He didn’t feel like making her truly upset.

  They walked for quite a while until they came across some other dwarves. Here there was mining going on. With their picks in their hands, they tore into the walls as if they were made of naught but cheese. He’d never seen anything get destroyed as quickly as the dwarves were destroying the tunnel walls. At least they were smart enough to leave columns to hold the ceiling in place. There wouldn’t be any cave-ins here.

  Vahneen walked over and picked up a couple of picks from a bin, holding the handle of one out for him to take. He hefted it in his hand, testing the weight. It was light, which surprised him a bit, but he noted that there wasn’t a mark on the head.

  “Dwarven steel doesn’t get marked up. It’s light, but it’ll never break,” Vahneen said when she noticed him inspecting the tool. “That would last you for life and beyond if you kept it.”

  “I don’t think I’ll need it that long. I’m not sure I need it now.”

  “Of course you do! You can’t go out in that flimsy armor of yours forever. That leather isn’t going to protect you against what’s out there. Believe me, I’ve seen it all. Orcs, Goblins, Nalgvane; they’ll all rip that leather apart with their weapons and claws. You might be quick, but they have numbers. You need armor that can take a beating.”

  “But if I can’t move in it, what good is it to me? I’m a finesse fighter, not a brute.”

  “You’re holding a tool that has a solid steel head. How heavy is it to you?”

  “It’s pretty light,” he said, laying the blade over his shoulder, frowning a bit. “If the armor was also this light and strong it might work. As long as it’s mobile. Hardly seems possible, though.”

  “Making it mobile is easy. The hardest part of all of this is actually mining enough material to make the steel. It’s going to take a bit. The less standing around we do, the more we’ll actually get done.”

  With those words she turned to the rough stone walls, hefted her pick, and carved a large gash into the wall. It all looked like stone to him, but as he watched her mine, he started to see that mixed into the stone was something else. A dark silver vein of ore that Vahneen deftly carved the stone away from. In fact it seemed to him that she really wasn’t carving the ore free, but was rather carving the stone away from it.

  Before long he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to stand there any longer. He was going to have to actually do some work if he wanted to be able to make himself a set of armor. A step forward brought him close to the wall. Fingers tightened around the pick’s handle as he hefted it, and then swung it hard into the wall, causing a large chunk of stone to sheer free and plock to
the floor. It was an oddly large piece and he felt rather proud of himself for carving away such a chunk.

  He thought about pointing it out to Vahneen and starting a contest with her to see who could mine the most and the fastest, but he didn’t feel up to it. She’s right that I need to move on and stop this moping around. I just wish I could trust myself again. Like it or not, he was certain that it was going to take something more than just telling himself to do it to make it happen.

  In the end he said nothing, but swung the pick against the wall over and over again. The stone carved free easily enough, leaving a lingering stone dust in the air with each strike of the pick. The light seemed to grow dimmer but he could still see well enough to continue. The dwarves could see in near darkness so the light changing didn’t bother them at all. They just continued to swing their axes with gusto.

  After a while he heard the rumblings of a tune making its way up the tunnel from where others mined further back in the halls. Despite his living with them for several months, he’d still not learned the Dwarven language. It was complex and guttural, yet sounded much like chanting when sung. It would take him a very long time to learn it, and he didn’t have that kind of time on his hands. Not lately, at least. They kept sending him on menial duties or sending him on patrol with Shakrin. He barely had any time to do anything he would have preferred to do.

  Now that he thought about it, they were pushing him to do a lot. He wondered if this was their way of telling him that it was time for him to move on and get out of Pabila. If it was, it wasn’t working. He didn’t have anywhere to go. Brivan was at war, and if he returned there empty handed then it would do nothing but prove he was a fool all along. Who knew if his father would even survive the war? Or, for that matter, if Brivan would survive? No, he didn’t have anywhere to go at the moment and Pabila was a good enough place to stay for him.