In The Depths Of Winter

by Bradley Mitzelfelt

  As the tune rolled on, he noticed that Vahneen had also joined in. Though he didn’t know the words, he could imagine it was something about the greatness of the mountains, and the great heroes of ages past. He’d heard many stories, growing up, about the various different heroes that Amarand had known.

  The most crucial of all of those had been the great gear master himself, Elian Groenwald. There were many songs about him, many stories. Stories of uniting the races in a common cause. It was he, along with the great mages of the old Mythrea Vale that had first defeated Chaos when the being had emerged in Amarand. Without him things would surely have been different, but the man was gone now and had no offspring of his own. He had no successor.

  Here amongst the dwarves there was always a successor. Be it Fanan or Shakrin, one of the Ironshield’s would take over when Dwemorin passed. That was the nature of things amongst the dwarves, and every Hallmaster proved him or herself time and time again through the ages, as he was told.

  Pulling his mind from the thoughts of the song, he focused on what he was doing and noted that he’d carved quite deeply into the wall, exposing a great vein of the mineral ore that he was there to retrieve. He lowered his axe and bent down to pick up a chunk of the metal that, when forged, would make up a light weight but sturdy suit of armor according to Vahneen. He’d never seen metal like it before coming to Pabila. All the metal armor he’d seen proved largely useless in combat. It was too heavy and ungainly. A nimble opponent would always beat a more heavily armored one.

  This metal, however, would change things. He squeezed it in his hand and looked over at Vahneen. The dwarf was watching him as he held onto the chunk of metal, her head tilted to the side in curiosity.

  “What?” he asked her.

  “Just watching you dismantle that wall as if it were your enemy. Are you planning to make suits for the entire dwarven army or just yourself?”

  He looked down at the pile of stones and ore littering the ground around him and realized that he most likely had more than what he was going to need at this point.

  “I got caught up in the song,” he admitted.

  “That will happen,” Vahneen said before she grinned at him. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a dwarf trapped in a man’s body at this point. Unfortunately for you, you’re too broody and non-committal to be a dwarf. You’d have succumbed to my provocations by now.”

  “Glad I’m not a dwarf,” he said under his breath.

  “I heard that,” Vahneen said, narrowing her eyes at him.

  Dearic didn’t say anything else, but instead stooped over to start collecting the bits and pieces of ore that he’d managed to remove from the grasp of the wall. He had an armful before he realized he didn’t have anywhere to put it. As he glanced about, Vahneen pushed an empty cart over to him, shaking her head as she did so.

  “You are the strangest human I have ever met. It’s as if you aren’t really there.”

  Half right, I suppose. My mind just isn’t focused on the here and now. He dumped the ore into the cart and then stooped for more.

  “Sometimes we humans seek solitude within ourselves when we can’t find it in our surroundings.”

  “You seem to do that a lot.”

  “Well, it’s hard to find solitude with you around, Vahneen.”

  “True! But why would you want to find solitude with me around? I’m too much fun to want to be alone when you’re near me!”

  “I think we have different definitions of fun.”

  “No, you just don’t want to have fun. We can all see that.”

  When he looked around to see who they were he found that there were several other dwarves also staring at him. He blinked and stood up straighter, towering above them, and almost slamming his head into the roof of the tunnel.

  “Look, it’s hard to forgive yourself when you let people down. I don’t want to get into this again. We just had this conversation,” he said, turning back to her.

  “Aye, we did. Now snap out of it.”

  Vahneen had moved towards him when he was looking at the other dwarves in the vicinity. When she told him to snap out of it, she rammed her fist into his side hard enough that he fell to his knees in surprised pain. One hand grasped at his side and the other held him up. Her fist then collided with his head and sprawled him out on the ground.

  “I’m not going to tolerate this foolish stupidity from you anymore, human. Grow up and realize that this world isn’t all sunshine and frolics in fields with the stupid elves. People die. It happens, especially amongst you humans. You don’t live long anyways. Toughen up or go find some way to die. You’re dragging the rest of us down.”

  She spit on the ground in disgust before storming off. He held a hand to his head as he watched her retreat. She’d opened a small wound and there was a trickle of blood, but he barely even felt it.

  “The lass is right, human,” one of the dwarves said. He had long, dark brown hair and a beard that seemed to be a part of his hair, braided in a single line down the front of his chest and dangling down past his belt. One of his eyes was perpetually squinted closed. “Snap out of it. The realm ain’t lost. If you really want to see something happen in the world, go make it happen.”

  A hand rubbed his jaw as he pushed back to his feet. For a moment he stared at the dwarf and then he moved to the cart carrying the ore that he’d just mined.

  “I suppose you are right. There is more to be done than staying here.”

  “Good, lad. Now get out of here. Should only be dwarves in these halls.”

  Dearic rolled his eyes at that and started pushing the cart along. If he had a gold piece for every time he’d heard a dwarf say that since he’d arrived in Pabila he’d be the king of Brivan himself, given he’d have the ability to buy it away from his father. Though it had gotten annoying to hear it over and over again, at least there wasn’t any true hostility behind it.

  Up the path he climbed, feeling the burn in his calves as he moved along. He hadn’t realized the path had gone downhill so much on the way. It was impossible not to notice now, considering the load of ore he was pushing uphill. Since the forge was nestled on one of the upper levels in the Hall, he figured that by the time he reached it he was going to need a new pair of legs.

  Sweat dripped off of him and left a slick trail on the stone floor behind him as he climbed upward. It wasn’t long before he felt the burn in his arms as well. He passed one path after another, but didn’t stop to see where they went.

  Dwarves watched him. He barely acknowledged them as he moved along. The workout was as good for him as if he were alone.

  Chapter Five

  “If you are coming in then you better hurry. We are about to close the gates for the night.” The gate guard waved them in, one hand on his sword, dark eyes roving over them from beneath a wide brimmed hat that still dripped wet from recent rain.

  The two women hustled their way through the gate and looked around. On the edge, the city didn’t seem like much to the two of them. There were a lot of people still milling about despite darkness edging ever closer. The buildings looked as though a strong gust of wind would collapse them into a pile of sticks, splintered wood, and glass. They moved forward, heading further into the city.

  The sound of water rolling against stone reached their ears over the hustle and bustle of the people. Salt, smoke, and urine smells filled their nostrils, and the cries of gulls flashed through their ears. Everywhere they looked was something different.

  “I’ve never seen such activity. Who commands these people?”

  “Nobody but their King, and loosely at that,” Daedre said. “He’s off at war. These people have laws, but are generally free to do what they want.”

  “That’s remarkable,” Persephone said as she wandered over to a stall where some bright red fruit caught her eye.

  She picked one up and the woman behind the stall held out a hand towards her. The fruit paused halfway to her mouth as she stared at the
hand curiously. Daedre filled the outstretched hand with a single coin and then steered her sister back onto the path further into the city.

  “Why did you give her money?” Persephone asked. “It’s just fruit. It grows on trees. Anyone can pick it.”

  “In the world outside of Gregor’s walls things aren’t just given to you or taken. There are rules and laws that govern commerce. If you want something here, you have to pay for it.”

  “I see. So the accumulation of wealth is a good thing here, then. I could probably make us some money selling herbs I find outside the city. I’m quite fluent in the flora of Brivan.”

  Daedre didn’t doubt that was the case, but she also didn’t really care for the thought of Persephone wandering around outside the city. Considering what had happened last time she’d wandered the countryside, and that with armed men, she was somewhat afraid of what would happen to her sister. She was positive they had been lucky to make it as far as they had.

  “We will see. Right now we need to secure lodging. Somewhere that we won’t draw attention.”

  Though she’d been to Nautil before, in her hunt for the necklace for Gregor, she’d learned that things changed in this city rather easily. Debts were owed and collected. If they weren’t collected, businesses changed hands. She already recognized that a few taverns and inns had changed names since the last time she’d been there. Money collectors were a seedy scum, but she still preferred them over Gregor.

  One of the inns, The Sea Urchin Tavern and Inn, caught her eye as they drew nearer to the wharfs. She made Persephone pause while she watched the clientele wander in and out. She noted a healthy mixture of sailors, and minor merchants. It seemed a bit less on the seedy side, which was enough for her.

  “That’s pretty,” Persephone said.

  When Daedre followed her gaze, she saw that the younger girl was staring at a necklace that was far too expensive for them to even look at. She didn’t have that much money on her. In her haste to leave she hadn’t really brought much collateral for trading. They might actually have to do apothecary work just to make it through the week.

  “It’s too expensive,” Daedre said, grabbing her sister’s shoulders to usher her towards the Inn. “We only have enough money to live and eat for a bit right now. We can’t buy expensive jewelry.”

  “We could just take it.”

  “No,” she said flatly. “I know how the law works here. They are ruthless and very thorough. I’ve been warned and I won’t forget it soon.”

  Persephone frowned as they walked into the Inn, but she perked up soon after. The tavern portion of the establishment was bustling with activity. The sounds of a lyre wore through to their ears, as did the gentle laughing of folks making merry. There were several large individuals just milling about, watching everyone. The place seemed remarkably calm for a city full of sailors.

  “Can I help you ladies?” a woman with long, brown hair asked as she polished a mug with the hem of her apron.

  “We need a room. Your establishment was recommended as one of the safer ones in the city for two women traveling alone,” Daedre said.

  “Quite right at that. My name is Myra. My husband Laird and I own The Sea Urchin and have for years. It is the safest in all of Nautil.” The woman beamed at them and then beckoned them further in. “Come. We just happen to have a room available. I will see to it that it is made up for you promptly. Would either of you like a drink while you wait?”

  “I’ll take a mead!” Persephone blurted out, grinning.

  “Two, please,” Daedre said before she steered the younger girl over towards a seat, mostly away from the prying eyes.

  As she sat, she surveyed the crowd. It was the most subdued place she’d ever seen in Nautil. She guessed the burly men that were standing around were the reason for that. I wonder how they avoided going off to war. Maybe they’re off duty sailors. The more she thought about it, the more she felt uncomfortable. She wasn’t going to let her guard down.

  A serving girl brought them their meads. Persephone grabbed her tankard up quickly and took a big gulp of the liquid. When she lowered the tankard, her eyes got really wide before a fit of coughs convulsed through her body. Daedre shook her head.

  “You’ve never had alcohol before, Persephone. You should probably drink it slowly.”

  The coughing didn’t stop. A few people looked over at them and she waved them off as if nothing were wrong. Eventually Persephone calmed down enough to stop coughing. It was probably a good thing that no real alcohol had been ordered. She might have had a dead sister in that case.

  “That- that is horrid,” Persephone said when she could talk. “How can you drink that?”

  “It dulls the mind,” she replied before she took a drink.

  “But it’s so horrible!”

  “It tastes like piss but it does the job. I don’t care much. When I want to relax alcohol is the best way to do so.”

  “Well, you can have it. I think I’ll stick to my books.”

  Persephone pushed the mead across the table until it was in front of Daedre, who polished off her first tankard before grabbing it. She downed the second quickly too, and didn’t even feel the effects of it. Her sister was busy holding a hand to her head and looking rather pale, which caused her to roll her eyes and sigh.

  “No more alcohol for you. You can’t stomach it.”

  “I don’t feel good at all.”

  “You drank too much of it too fast and now you’re sick. You can’t do that, like I said. You’re going to have to lie down when we get to the room.”

  Myra reappeared then and beckoned for them to follow her.

  “Your room is ready. It should serve you well enough,” she said as she led them up a flight of stairs and to the last room at the end of the hall.

  The key turned and the door opened to reveal a sparse room built of stick construction, with cobwebs in the ceiling corners, and a pristine window with a view of the bay. Two small beds, worn and leaning, not quite even in the way they rested, decorated one wall. The other had a small table with two mismatched chairs. No wardrobe was present. Daedre held her hand out for the key.

  “Rate is three gold a night. You pay each day,” Myra said.

  “That’s kind of steep.”

  “Times are tough with most off to war. We had to raise the price of rooms. The only reason we are so full now is because of a storm out on the sea. All of the fishing and trade vessels are put in to port.”

  “I see.”

  She was reluctant to pay that price, but at the same time this was the nicest looking place she’d seen since they’d arrived. That and it was extremely calm. Something was off about the place, but she still couldn’t turn down the room. Since she had to pay in advance she pulled out a few coins and handed them over before taking the key.

  “Have a good night, ladies,” Myra said before she turned and left, the door open wide behind her.

  Persephone quietly closed it and then bounded across the room to look out the window at the port. Remarkable considering moments ago she could barely move. Must be the two sides conversing. Daedre was more interested in sitting down on the bed and removing her shoes than looking at the sea. Once they were off, she let herself fall backwards onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  “There’s a lot of ships out there,” Persephone said. “Maybe I can go out on one.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s dangerous and no place for someone like you.”

  “You know, I can fight too. I might not be as cold as you, or as strong, but I can handle myself. The sailors wouldn’t get anywhere.”

  “You can’t handle a full boat of them. They’d get what they wanted if they really wanted it. The answer is no and that’s final.”

  A string of curses was her reward for her supposed cruelty. Persephone just didn’t have the knowledge of the world that Daedre had. If she had more experience she wouldn’t want to go out on one of th
e ships. She would be wary of the very situation that they currently found themselves in. They weren’t safe here, but they were safer than they could ever be if they had remained with Gregor.

  She rolled over on her side, resting a hand beneath her head as she looked at her sister. The girl stood, still wearing her dress, looking out the window. Apparently seeing the sea had cured her nausea, which seemed odd, but she was prone to finding distractions. It was how she’d failed to see the reality of who Gregor was.

  Daedre wasn’t so blind. I’ve seen what he does. I’ve felt him... She shivered at the memories that flooded her mind. I nearly let myself fall victim to Dearic too. Stupid idiot. At least I’m free of men now. She rubbed her eyes with her other hand and then let them drift closed. Someone might as well get some sleep, and Persephone didn’t really look tired anymore.

  “I’m going to sleep. Wake me in a couple of hours.”

  “Fine,” Persephone said snappily.

  The animosity would fade after a couple of hours. She knew this from experience. Persephone had a hard time staying mad at anyone, despite her Devan heritage. By the time she woke her up she’d probably just be happy to get some sleep. Daedre was fine with that, as long as one of them was always awake.

  As she lay there, waiting to fall asleep, she heard creaking floors as people moved through the halls. At one point laughter rang out, and then faded with the shutting of a door. Darkness was drawing in, and some people were turning in early. She fell asleep to these sounds.

  When she woke sometime later, she was aware that there were more people in the room besides her and Persephone. She didn’t move except for the gentle rise and fall of her chest. So long as whoever it was thought she was asleep it was unlikely they would mess with her. It was likely just someone looking for some gold pieces. People in this Kingdom seemed drawn to robbing Inns and their patrons.

  Her hand slid down her thigh to a knife that was resting on her hip. She was thankful that she wasn’t prone to removing her weapons when she got into bed. At times like this, that could spell disaster.