Adornments of Glory

by J. Crispin-Ripley

  "Gotta talk." Hands on hips in front of her.

  "Outta my way." She didn't want to go deeper into the common room and didn't want him thinking he could interfere with any course of action she chose to undertake.

  "Sorry." He stood aside.

  Sorry? Him? Sorry she wasn't another kiss-butt female, maybe. Sorry she was his daughter, probably… most of the time… except when he tallied the take at the bar. She brought in the business, she did. Sorry he was losing his meal ticket, most likely.

  "Outside." She jerked a thumb towards the door.

  "Sure."

  Agate scrambled from his table to intercept her before she could escape the inn. "Don't go."

  She'd ridden him more often than anyone in the place. Great stamina, no style… marginally more satisfying than masturbation. No telling him that… thought the gods intended them to be together. Time to correct that impression.

  "Marry me, Grunt." Wasn't a request. Rather, an order. Stupid male. Grunt led with a right. He blocked it. Nailed him with a roundhouse left. He staggered, then slumped to the floor.

  "How?" Daddy Square didn't get it. A skinny female shouldn't be able to hammer like she did, shouldn't be what every dwarf wanted on his pallet either--but she was.

  "I'm a damn incarnation, that's how." Didn't believe that, herself. Didn't matter--from the private communications she'd pulled off the backbone over the years, the prevalent theory regarding her seemingly unnatural allure and fighting prowess was exactly that--she was a god pissing around being flesh. Damn unlikely, but it was a useful fiction.

  No one followed them outside. Dwarves were damn slow sometimes, but not entirely stupid. Square didn't say anything right away. Probably giving her time to let her rage subside. Except she wasn't angry, not at all. Grunt turned to face Square. "Okay, let's get to it. Whadda want?"

  "You know that Feldspar…"

  "Yeah, yeah… she's the Prophesied, she's leading a quest to get back the Adornments of Glory, she divorced her mother and Windrover, she'll ask me to go to Terra with her… and you, surprisingly, have aligned yourself with her, against the blonde bitch… so…?"

  "Smart ass kid."

  "Musta got the brights from my mother's side. Ever hear from her?"

  Information regarding her mother was almost impossible to obtain. A spacer, the woman left Diluvia on a long-haul ship shortly after Grunt was weaned, or so the story went. For all her expertise at massaging the backbone, Grunt had never been able to get the name of the ship, much less make contact. No one would talk either. From the duress she'd applied to various people, directly to tender parts of their anatomy from time to time, Grunt believed major mind-science had been applied to make all memories of her mother vanish from the minds of the semi-comatose living.

  "Barely remember her," Square replied. "I was one of many in her bed. DNA proved you're mine. Sorry."

  "Whatever." They'd been through this too many times. Grunt wondered why she kept trying… except she hated mysteries. "You did want to talk… about now?"

  "Don't go."

  Grunt waited. That was it? Okay, she could play dumb dwarf too. "Don't? Why?"

  "Danger."

  She nodded. "Quest." Quests were dangerous. It was one of their salient characteristics.

  Square shook his head. "Before too." He took a deep breath. Was he going to say something more? The breath expelled in a sigh.

  "Danger from Belinda and Windrover?" If she didn't speed things along they'd be here forever. Daddy Square wanted to say something he didn't want to say. "You're afraid your girlfriend will come after me to keep me from going with Feldspar? I'm not afraid of Belinda the bawd."

  "Should be. I am." He met Grunt's eyes. "Always have been."

  "If she's so scary why have you been boffing her long as I can remember?"

  Square shrugged. "Great sex. You should understand that." He looked around as if to see whether anyone else might be listening. "She's a vampire. Can feed back, if she wants."

  "Dragon dung." Nothing she'd found on the backbone hinted at any of that. Grunt could believe Belinda might be a vampire--lots of beings were, in a minor way. But the ability to drink any significant amount of life essence was rare. And to feed back? Unheard of. "Nominal?"

  "Stronger." Square shrugged again. "Fourth rank, maybe third."

  "Damn." Fourth rank could take a few minutes of life at a time from the victim. Third--hours, and make the prey weak, vulnerable to physical attack. And being able to take life essence and feed it back… if Belinda could… yeah, that would make for mind-blowing sex… perhaps literally.

  She closed the distance between herself and her father. "And you've helped her keep this secret, for years. Why break ranks now? Does Belinda have something to do with the theft of the Adornments?"

  "Don't know. Won't tell me. She demanded I swear an oath of fealty." Anger crackled in Square's voice.

  "Then why don't you want me to go with Feldspar?"

  "You're my daughter. I love you."

  "Damn." That wasn't the answer she'd expected. Was it one she could believe? Did she want to? That was easier to answer…

  "I'm going. Now." Grunt turned her back on her father. She'd recover her pack from behind the inn and head into the forest. She had a feeling she knew where Feldspar just might turn up.

  * * * * *

  Feldspar crept through the pre-dawn Academy grounds feeling much better about herself and her world. So much for being chaste. She'd meant it when she said it, but it had been some time since she'd been bedded so well. A night with Spinecracker was a long steady climb to an ecstatic plateau. Skythane was in her past. And the future, as always, was unknown. The present, however, had a glow.

  It had been a worthwhile night in other respects also. Although Spinecracker steadfastly refused to give her advice about her quest in particular--no matter how she twisted her tail--he'd filled her in on quests in general, in between otherwise filling her in. Males occasionally needed time for recuperation, even male elves, and in those interludes to maintain a woman's interest, they'd answer almost any question. She'd admired his control both while erect and while flaccid, but he'd said more than he'd probably meant to.

  The current situation, according to Spinecracker, was that as Feldspar had been appointed to lead, until the quest was underway. To all effects and purposes, she outranked Adepts Five members, the Monarch's Inner Circle and even the Monarch. The resources of Diluvia were hers to draw on and anyone who interfered risked the strongest possible censure, up to and including being recycled. Windrover and Belinda would avoid her like one dying of troll fever.

  Spinecracker had also reminded her of much she already knew, that a quest was traditionally undertaken by a party of five: leader, wizard, muscle, scout and guide. Ideally at least one member would also be a healer. Then again, ideally the leader would be able to take on any of the roles. While Spinecracker had been enthusiastic in singing praise to her abilities, Feldspar considered his confidence ill placed. She wasn't anyone special, prophecy or no prophecy.

  Wizard, muscle, scout and guide. As Feldspar passed through the Academy gate and started towards Capitol she considered recruitment. Obtaining a scout and a guide would be next to impossible. Spinecracker hadn't said so, but she still felt couldn't trust anyone who'd ever been to Terra. If Windrover and Belinda were up to something, anyone with Terran experience she met would probably be provided by them. The only solution possible was that the guide and scout would have to be recruited on Terra, from willing locals. She would concentrate on the other two roles, wizard and muscle. Both would have to be people she could trust.

  Feldspar smiled to herself. Her muscle was obvious, her soul-sister, Grunt.

  So, her wizard should be an elf, one who didn't volunteer. That would give the party leaving Diluvia the proper balance, with one member from each of the so-called civilised races: a human leader, a dwarf as muscle and a wizard elf.

  None of the elves Feldspar knew would do. Anyo
ne she could think of either wouldn't accept her as a leader, or had shared her pallet many times. If they'd been in her, they were out. As it must also be someone who hadn't been to Terra, and who ideally didn't have close ties to any elf who had, the field of candidates was limited. Elves lived long lives and were few in number; they tended to be connected to each other in myriad ways. And most had been to Terra, albeit in many cases not for hundreds of years. She'd find a solution though, if it was meant. She had faith in the inevitable and hoped it was reciprocated.

  Sunrise found Feldspar on an inland path to Capitol, one well away from the heavily travelled routes nearer the lake. It led to the inn of Square and his clan. Grunt would have been expecting her the previous evening, but of all people Grunt would understand the reason for Feldspar's tardy arrival best.

  Half-lost in planning a future course, she almost didn't notice a change in the present. The pervasive morning bird-song had fallen silent. She stopped, then stepped off the path. This close to Capitol there shouldn't be any large predators: no cougars or harpies, and certainly no bear or rouge wolves. But something malign lay ahead. The forest was frozen in anticipation of blood.

  She slipped deeper into the trees and made her way forward in a wide arc, first away from and then towards the path she'd been following. The last curve before the meadow would be the only spot suitable for an ambush. It was tempting to just continue on, by-passing the attackers, leaving them to wait for her forever… or until they gave up. But what if this wasn't directed at her? Addled beings from the Fringe or the wilds might have crept in to the regulated areas, seeking fatter and less cautious prizes than they'd find where they lived and belonged.

  Not likely, not here in the heartland, and not on the day she'd been named to lead a quest. That would be asking too much of coincidence. But if it were directed at her, how had they arrived so quickly? And how did they know to lurk on this particular path? Someone who knew her habits must be responsible. Belinda and Windrover would be the only likely candidates and, as to how those lying in wait would have made it in from the Fringe so soon after the announcement... much as she hated to think it, Windrover must have teleported them in. There wasn't any other explanation. She'd keep one alive, and ask.

  There, ahead, a short and blocky figure, more virulent green than the foliage. A goblin? Where there was one, there would be many, but even deep in the wilds, goblins normally weren't aggressive. They lived off carrion, off the leavings of others. Feldspar felt relieved Windrover's talents wouldn't have been required for this ambush. He was shallow, not evil like her ex mother. Goblins were local. There were thousands in and around Capitol, valued members of society in their limited way.

  But their limited way didn't include skulking in bushes, waiting to attack passers-by. As Feldspar moved closer she saw there were perhaps a dozen goblins in all. The closest was armed with a knife. Even that weapon would stretch a goblin's grasp of technology--clubs were their norm. The temptation to just sneak by got stronger, but goblins being goblins, they'd probably attack the next person to come along. They weren't bright enough to have set up this ambush on their own… or to know one strange human from another.

  But she didn't want to kill innocents, however stupid they might be. Circling the group on her side of the path she found one goblin who was isolated, out of sight of his… no, her comrades. Feldspar slipped up behind her and, with a sharp rap to a temple, rendered her unconscious, catching her before she fell to the forest floor. Okay, how long would it be before the others missed her? Long enough, she hoped.

  Feldspar lugged her captive deep into the woods--carrying a being half her weight while being silent was a true test of her woods-craft. She made it to a spot that should be out of normal earshot, gagged the goblin with a tawdry scarf Skythane had gifted her--good riddance to both it and him--then revived her captive.

  "Promise not to shout?" she asked. The question was met with blank incomprehension. Too complex? "No yell?"

  A nod--of agreement? Only one way to find out. She removed the gag. "Feldspar," she said, pointing to herself. "You?"

  "Me!" A gap-toothed grin. Great, how could she possibly interrogate someone with a sub-hundred-word vocabulary?

  "Who tell?" she asked, trying to take in the scene of the ambush with a wide sweep of her arm.

  "Man."

  "An elf?"

  "Man."

  "Fat?"

  "Man."

  Okay, it seemed she had all the answers she was going to get. She pulled a knife from her belt. "You want live?"

  "Want live." A nod. From the look of terror in the goblin's eyes, she understood.

  "Okay… come." Feldspar led her captive back to before the bend in the path. If she could distract the other goblins they'd probably abandon the ambush. If not… someone would die--maybe her, and maybe not. Could she take a dozen goblins? Probably, but she'd rather not find out.

  An illusion should work. "Okay. Wait." She closed her eyes. It was a trick she'd done at parties, on a smaller scale. Would it work here? She concentrated and thought 'dragon.' She opened her eyes. So far, so good… a bit misshapen and far larger than dragons grew, but a good illusion none the less. "Look at hand," she ordered.

  The goblin obeyed, saw a hand that looked like a claw, screamed and started running down the path as fast as her stubby legs would take her. Feldspar loped behind. Flames from the mouth would be a nice touch. Yes! Her goblin's screams were met by other screams from the forest and a clamour as the ambushers left their positions and started running in all directions. Feldspar let the illusion drop. That should do it. Once the panic left off, they wouldn't remember what they'd been doing.

  The path fanned into a dozen branches at the meadow. While keeping her senses open for more trouble, Feldspar's feet naturally followed the third from the left. It led to Square's inn, Grunt's home. The next one out led to the dwarves' food mines, and the outermost bypassed Capitol altogether, winding deep into the forest. Planetsinger would be out there, somewhere. If she wasn't looking for you, or worse, didn't want to be found, you could wander forever and not catch a glimpse of the Great Mother. Given the situation, Feldspar expected Planetsinger would be in touch before it was time for the quest to leave for Terra.

  The ground-level windows of the stone inn were dark and on the second floor, the blinds were still drawn. Dwarves weren't early risers unless they had to go to work, and with a crisis impending in Diluvia, the previous night would have been unusually raucous, even for dwarves. Feldspar was just as glad she hadn't been there. Dwarves were rough bedmates. She opened the door wide enough to slip through and no wider. Everyday wisdom said 'let sleeping dwarves lie' and she'd always found that a good idea. Dwarves who'd ended up slumped on tables or unconscious on the floor of a inn's common room were the worst.

  The floor was thick with bodies. From the look of it, half the community hadn't made it home or to other after-drinking activities. Even in the murky light Feldspar could see a number were injured. She stepped over snoring bodies to make her way to the stairs up to the bedrooms. Around the roped-off dais where formal challenges were fought, Feldspar recognised half a dozen of Grunt's would-be boyfriends.

  Agate seemed particularly badly off. A proper healer probably had checked him the night before, but Feldspar made her own examination anyway. His face was heavily bruised and his neck at close to an unnatural angle. Feldspar put a hand on his arm and concentrated on an all-purpose restorative. Her powers were limited, but it would help. As Agate gave out a groan, Feldspar stood and continued on her way. He wouldn't appreciate her help. Not only was she human but also, according to Agate, the sole reason Grunt hadn't agreed to become his chattel--Feldspar's human influence had given Grunt un-dwarvish ideas about the role of women. Most female dwarves had those ideas already, but male dwarves did their best to ignore realities they'd rather not see… just like males of every other race. Feldspar continued on and up the stairs, curious whether she would find anyone else in Grunt's bedc
hamber.

  Not even her soul-sister was there. The bed hadn't been used. Maybe she was in some other room? Unlikely, but if she canvassed bedrooms for Grunt any conscious dwarf male might rightfully consider it an invitation for him to have his way with his visitor. But she didn't want to go back downstairs. If Agate had woken fully he would have kicked a number of others to their feet by now and after routing the goblins, she was too tired to fight. She returned to Grunt's room and closed the door. No one would dare enter Grunt's domain uninvited, other than herself. This was an excellent opportunity to catch a few hours of sleep. She dozed off immediately.

  "Hey!"

  "Okay, okay, I'm awake. Quit shaking me already." Feldspar opened her eyes. Grunt looked rough. Always thin for a dwarf, she'd lost weight in the year they'd been apart and her eyes were red-rimmed. That last was probably a temporary condition. "And just where did you spend the night, slattern?"