"Do you know who I am?" The skirt of her dress billowed from the hot current of the nearby volcano. The blood had dried on her skirt, the sun rendering the color almost invisible. Lukor will be so disappointed at its relative whiteness. She grinned.
"Why be you smiling?" the first dwarf bellowed, his voice deep and low and forceful, almost too loud for such close quarters as he stomped in front of her. He stood as high as her elbow. "And who be you?" he added, almost as an afterthought.
"Forgive me. I have heard much of dwarven valor and workmanship, but I have never seen one of your race before." She bent her knees, sinking into a curtsey, head raised, and stayed in that position so she was on his level.
"Barbarians, the lot of them." One of the shortest dwarves sniffed, as if not liking their scent.
"Aye, we're barbarians. And I am Ivy, their barbaroness." Now Ivy stood, allowing her skirt to gracefully cover her legs. "I, we, wish to speak to your ruler."
"No. Cannot be done." The dwarf closest to her shook his head twenty times, so fast his braided beard whipped back and forth.
"Then perhaps we can speak to you all." She rewarded them with a smile. "You all seem like strong, capable dwarves. Who else better to speak to?"
A few shuffled their feet, put off by her words, but the main one nodded. "Guess that be all right. Words cannot harm."
"We are here because we are wondering if the elves have come in contact with you lately. They—"
"We be not dealing with the elves," the fattest one said, sticking out his enormous girth, rubbing his growth near his ear.
"Is it possible that they might have—"
"They be smarter than that," the one with five chins said. He was the only one to not have a beard, but his mustache hung down on the sides, reaching to his knees.
"The elves—"
"Come." The main dwarf shoved the others away. "Stay," he threw over his shoulder.
"Are we animals that he commands us to bid his demands?" Katar glowered.
"True, they lack manners," Ivy admitted, "but not all barbarians practice them either." In fact, most didn't. She appreciated they showed her as much respect as they did.
Glaive had sat back down but now jumped up and snatched something from the ground. Small and furry, the animal wiggled in his hands.
Before he could snap its neck, Ivy relieved him of it. A burrower. An animal goliaths used to communicate. Goliaths did not bend feathers, obviously since they did not use birds, and she soon found a leaf within a pouch.
The words made her whiten with suppressed anger that quickly melted away into a blush. Oh, Lukor, no blood for you. Not yet at least.
She quickly told the others about the trolls and their plan to help destroy the elves with the help of the goliaths and barbarians before killing off the rest of their race.
No leaves dotted the mountainside, so Ivy scratched out clean before tucking the leaf back into the burrower's pouch. She patted its head. "Find him safely," she whispered.
The burrower darted off, scampering into a hole that looked much too small for it to fit into.
"Couldn't we haven eaten it?" a barbarian grumbled.
Ivy shot him a scowl. "I am hungry too, but we can stay a little longer. We were told to wait, not to eat."
The air shifted slightly, and Ivy glanced up to see that the dwarves had returned. A few were still filing into their places in line, but she could not hear their footsteps upon the rocks of the mountain.
"We be told to ask you about the destroyer dreads." The main dwarf attempted to cross his arms, but his muscles prevented him from doing so, and he rested his hands on his hips.
"We outran them on our way here," a barbarian spoke up.
Ivy winced.
The dwarves stared at her, as if already knowing her guilt.
"Yes, a goliath and I unleashed the horde from Rocks of Breakingham. We were fleeing a dragon, and the dragon burst out of the Rocks. The dreads followed."
"A barbarian and a goliath?" He jerked back in surprise.
"Yes," she said sourly. Were she and Lukor to become a laughing matter for the rest of the world? Had all the other unions been received so poorly?
Most likely. Change never did follow a smooth and straight path.
"Why be you in the Rocks of Breakingham?" the dwarf demanded, his eyes narrowing to tiny dark specks. He placed a hand over his eyebrows to blot out the sun, and his small eyes glowed.
"We had thought someone still lived inside, someone who could give us information we needed. We thought wrong, and our mistake nearly cost us our lives." For some reason, Ivy felt the need to keep Kennan a secret from the dwarves. They would not tolerate someone living within their old domain.
The dwarves again turned to leave.
Ivy rushed to add, "The elves are trying to create enough distention amongst the races that they destroy each other. The barbarians, the goliaths... They have given the trolls enchanted weapons to use against us. Do you think the elves will continue to turn a blind eye to you, hiding within your earthen walls forever?"
Without a word, the dwarves again left. A small rock on the ground caught her eye, and Ivy picked it up and threw it. It landed within the volcano.
"Shall we go?" Glaive asked. "They did not command us to stay this time."
"We shall give them some time." Her hand swiped her face, and when she glanced at her palm, it was bloody. She, and the other barbarians, were sweating blood. Too close to the volcano perhaps.
After an hour, Ivy walked over to where the dwarves had vanished. She could see nothing different in the stone, felt no door or pathway, saw no stairs, nothing to explain their absence. Upon returning to the barbarians, she saw several had captured maluserpenes — snakes with both pincers and tusks. Most only grew to be the length of one's arms, but these were many times that, with lots of meat on them, and best yet, no nasty bones to get stuck in one's teeth.
"Do not kill or eat them yet," she said. If the dwarves did not appear shortly, they were leaving and taking the maluserpenes with them as their traveling meal. She closed her eyes, already imagining slurping down some of the meat, filling her empty stomach...
A deep laugh, from one's belly, stirred her. The main dwarf stared down at them. "Go ahead and eat your fill. And then leave. We want no part of the war."
"On our side?" Ivy asked for clarification purposes.
"On either side." He touched the tip of his right ear.
At least this venture had not been wholly in vain. For now, the dwarves were a nonfactor. "The elves have no ally in you," she repeated, more to herself.
"That be so." The dwarf laughed again. "I be BowBeard. Shove a pickaxe up their... Give 'em rock and grime." He touched his ear again and vanished.
The barbarians ate quickly, slurping the meal in no time. Ivy's stomach felt full for the first time in ages. Another nice part about eating maluserpenes was the lack of blood. Even when their heads were chopped off, little purple blood oozed from the wound.
The relief of fleeing the Blood Stones was immediate with the gentle breeze of cool air that greeted them when they descended the mountain. No signs of the destroyer dreads were anywhere, and Ivy checked behind them to make certain. A stout figure stood at the top of the mountain they had just climbed down, watching them. Ivy curtsied. The person — dwarf — appeared to beat his chest before raising his arm in the air.
If only she could be certain the dwarves would not be a factor. Her venture to Grotto Province to see the humans had not turned into wasted time. Perhaps this would prove likewise.
Or just the opposite.
The nearer they came to Ordisium, the harder Lukor pushed the goliaths. He longed to have some normalcy in his life, and returning home would certainly be a step in the right direction, although he knew the ache in his chest would not be relieved until he was reunited with his love.
The novelty of thinking of Ivy as that had not worn off yet, and hopefully never would.
When Ordis
ium lay only an hour away, Lukor lengthened his stride, not caring if the goliaths and goliathas lagged behind. In fact, he wanted them to. He had to speak to the goliaths there and explain things to them before they shared their knowledge with the goliaths and goliathas who thus far remained ignorant of his impending marriage to a barbarian.
The sounds of the goliaths marching behind him grew fainter, but then one stride picked up and soon matched him. Karrina. Blasted goliatha. What did she want?
"Worrying is going to ruin your good looks for that barbarian."
He glanced over at her, still running. Banter. Why?
"You're serious about her." Karrina halted, but he continued on, and she rushed to keep up.
"Yes. Do not even attempt to talk to me concerning her."
The goliatha was silent for several strides before saying, "Do not tell them." Her voice was strong, urgent. "They need to focus on the battle, draw strength from you. They cannot be wavering or the battlefield will result in goliathic bloodshed."
Lukor nodded toward their home. "They already know."
"Then allow me to talk to them first. I can persuade—"
"I don't just love her. She loves me."
"I know—"
"We are pledged to one another."
Karrina stumbled for a moment before regaining her footing. "No wonder they left in such a huff. You are a crazy goliath, aren't you? No goliatha was good enough for you."
He shrugged. What answer could he possibly give to that? Gradually, he backed off and nodded.
Karrina rushed ahead to their land, and Lukor halted, waiting a good while for the others to catch up. He hated himself for worrying that Karrina would betray him. The moment of truth came soon enough when he and the others walked into their land, and the goliaths who had carried their dead home greeted them. Although all stoned-face, none blurted out his secret, and Lukor felt even worse for having doubted the goliatha.
Thul's face was particularly foul, but his teeth were not bared and he did lower his gaze when Lukor glanced his way. Lukor clasped the goliath's bare forearm. "Thank you for your role."
Thul grunted. "We did our part."
"And we thank you. Taking care of our own is very important."
The hidden undercurrent of their words threatened to boil over, but Thul merely nodded. Only about half of the goliaths here knew that the barbarians were included with their own.
Before any could grow uneasy, Lukor briefly summarized what had transpired since their parting, and Thul accounted their uneventful trek home.
"In two days' time, we will leave for Luna Ford. All of us who are capable of battle. We fight for our land, for the chance of a happy future, one where the elves cannot manipulate us and one where the trolls will not slaughter us as they nearly did the barbarians."
He bid the goliaths and goliathas to rest, enjoy hearty meals, and prepare their minds and bodies for the upcoming battle. Before they could disperse, however, Gremma slowly slipped between goliaths until she stood before him.
"We should have the official convergence of the crown to our golock, should we not? Especially since we are going to follow him into battle."
Goliaths and goliathas nodded and agreed with her, cheering and shouting. While Lukor felt beyond pleased with the demonstration of unity behind him, he could not.
"Please, this is not about me. It is about us. All of us. Let us win the battle, and the war. Then we shall have a long celebration that will culminate with the convergence. Hear?"
"Hear!"
A few goliaths and goliathas left in small groups, and Lukor slipped away before Gremma or anyone else could corner him. He needed some time alone.
His legs brought him to the Garden of Orda, and he walked amongst the various trees, feeling their smooth or jagged bark, inhaling the rich scents of soil, flowers, and life.
He needed the convergence, as did his people. With all of the recent turmoil between the goliaths and their numerous leaders in such a short period of time, they had gotten away from their roots, from their lifeline. But he couldn't. Not yet. The true reason for the delay had nothing to do with the possibility of his death in the upcoming battle.
No, a far more selfish reason.
If at all possible, he wanted Ivy to be there, to be a part of it, to share the convergence with her. It would mean his people truly accepted her into their lives, as empress or baroness, that they embraced the union of the two races.
And if the barbaroness was to be a part of the process, Ivy would be the first non-goliath to see the Garden. He knew well how much she would treasure that. How he wished she was here now. She would give him that small smile, the one that made her forehead crinkle and ease any signs of trouble from her violet eyes. Her giggle would fill the air, and he wouldn't be surprised if she skipped from tree to tree.
A skipping barbarian. His barbarian was not like most. Yes, she could be brutal and savage — a ruthless killer — but there was another side to her, almost nurturing. She cared deeply for her people, almost too much.
Again, his thoughts turned to fatherhood. After Lucia's murder, Lukor had vowed to never have offspring, so as to minimize the amount of loss in his life, but now? Now that he had love, he craved more: more life, more love, more of everything, and that included children.
Lukor pruned a short hazelvine tree before moving on to examine the goliathic statues. His steps faltered against the stone when he saw a new one. His had already been fashioned. Bold, sharp, the statue contained dusting yet, so freshly had it been carved. The nose was far too big, his eyes a tad too far apart. The statue's face was fierce, angry... an almost barbarian-like expression.
An insult? A compliment? A harbinger of the future? Whatever the case, Lukor decided he liked it. Ivy would too.
Not long after they left the Blood Stones behind, they had to stop for the night, for the lighting was too poor for them to see far, and a rolling fog did not help matters any. A tree stood tall, Ivy leaning against it as she sat, and after Katar announced he would take watch, she nodded off and slept somewhat peacefully. Hours before dawn arrived, she awoke to find Katar still guarding them.
"Go and sleep." She walked over to him, voice low so as not to disturb the others.
"I can't. Not since..."
Ivy touched his arm. "I understand, but still, you need to try."
The fog created a shroud over his face, making black circles around his eyes and giving him a corpse-like appearance. "I would rather not."
"Mares of the night? I have been plagued by them for some time now."
"No." The black circles lightened some as he moved back a half step. "I dream of Orchid, of happy times when we were children and later, when we would fight and argue, and even later still, with us practicing our training and combat skills..."
"Orchid was a dear friend." Ivy had been trying not to think of her, so as to be strong and brave and make her people proud of their barbaroness, but now, here in the night, talking to her brother, Ivy's walls crumbled, and her eyes watered. No tears shed. Grief remained an emotion that barbarians could not handle well. Not every barbarian bothered to feel it in the first place, and some that had went mad, killing everyone who ventured near. Those barbarians had to be killed for the safety of the rest.
"The troll had aimed for me. Orchid stepped in front of me. One touch of the blade and..." Katar lowered his head.
Ivy cupped his cheek. "She would not want you to be sorrowful. Be strong. She had been."
The barbarian closed his eyes. When he opened them, he seemed more peaceful, more energetic even. "You are right, O Barbaroness."
She smiled then, full and warm, her body tingling. Only a few barbarians would she allow speak to her on common terms, but that he would use her title meant a great deal to her. "O Warrior, I bid you rest. Now," she said pointedly, still smiling.
He yawned, and they laughed softly. Katar found a spot on the ground near the others and soon breathed easily, with regularity.
Over time, the fog lessened enough for Ivy to spy a falcor soaring high. Not wishing to whistle and disturb the others, Ivy waved her hand above her head. Eventually, the bird swooped toward her. It carried no message, and she quickly bent and twisted the feathers to let the barbarians back home know they would be returning shortly. The green beak nipped at her fingers gently, as if she did not wish to leave. Ivy ran her fingers over her chest, the bird's feathers bright and beautiful. "You have an important job to do," she murmured.
The falcor tilted her feathered head and blinked orange eyes at her.
"We all do. You, me, the barbarians, the goliaths... even the trolls," she added sourly. What would happen at Luna Ford? Who will remain standing? Who will fall?
The bird wiggled out of her hands and spread her wings.
"Go on, fall back to Barbadia." She released the falcor into the air and watched it until the blue-and-red-feathered bird disappeared from sight.
The landscape appeared safe and calm. At any moment, Ivy expected to hear that blasted humming, for the destroyer dreads to make another appearance, but everything remained peaceful.
For now.
Her gaze fell to the sleeping barbarians. Only one stared back at her. Helm.
She waved him over to her, and he joined her side, both watching those who slumbered.
"You spoke of mares of the night," Helm said out of the corner of his mouth.
"Do you make it a practice to listen to another's conversation?" She did not mind that he had, but it would be good to know if certain barbarians had overactive ears.
"I cannot stop my ears from hearing," he said, as if answering her thoughts.
"Why mention it?" She regarded him with sudden interest. Far more intelligent than most, Helm had the temper of a barbarian but his mind... "Your parents were both barbarians?"
"Changing the subject. Yes, barbarians both. My mother's father, however, was an elf." He brushed his hair back to reveal perfect elven-shaped ears. Barbarians' ears were pointed, but not nearly as sharply as elves'. "The only known union between a barbarian and another race," he added.
Bloodlust Page 24
