The festivities lasted well into the night, with people dropping off to sleep wherever they were, regardless if they were sitting or standing. Apparently dwarves could nod off even if they were standing upright. Maybe this explained her husband, Sarah thought with a giggle. Seeing her husband fall asleep propped up on his elbows, or reading a book, maybe it was because he had some dwarven blood in him. Casting a sidelong glance at Steve, who appeared to be asleep on his feet with eyes partially closed and a lopsided grin on his face, she smiled. She was honestly surprised that he had enough mental prowess left to keep those legs moving.
For the second time in a row, Sarah had to tuck her husband into bed, and also for the second time, he was snoring before she could even remove her shoes.
****
“On behalf of the Kla Guur clan,” Maelnar was saying, “we cannot thank the likes of ye enough. The tunnels are safe once more.”
“I’m glad we could help,” Steve said, shaking the proffered forearm. “This has truly been an experience that I won’t ever forget.” Remembering Sarah’s last comments to their dragon friend, Steve smiled. “We count ourselves lucky to call the Kla Guur clan friends.”
“Friends, hell,” Maelnar muttered, pulling Steve into a hug. “Ye are family now. Do not ever forget that, lad.”
The four soldiers approached, greeting each member of the Council in turn.
“We thank our human brothers for their assistance,” Maelnar began, much more formally. “Ye have affirmed the wisdom of our ancestors in creating the pact with the humans. We are proud to honor that allegiance whenever the need arises.” The dwarf glanced across the room, where a contingent of dwarves, led by Kharus, had just entered. Smiling, he turned back to the humans. “As a token of our appreciation, our esteemed master Kharus has commissioned special armor for everyone, including yer fallen comrade. Master Kharus?”
Steve’s former boss turned to his group of assistants and began unwrapping packages. Assembling the first suit of armor, he called the captain over. With skilled movements, they had Rhenyon outfitted in the finest set of armor that he had ever seen. Repeating the process with the other three soldiers, Kharus then called Steve over, outfitting him with the same suit as the one the soldiers were wearing. While Steve admired the latest addition to his wardrobe, Kharus turned to Sarah, smiling warmly.
“Ye are next, lass.”
Not sure what to expect, and not really wanting (or needing) protective clothing, Sarah approached. However, the garments Kharus held out to her had her staring open-mouthed. The fabric the dwarf craftsman presented to her didn’t even come close to resembling the suits of armor the others were wearing. What she was looking at was a much thinner, much stronger variant of the dwarves’ special metal, bryl, which had been deftly woven into the fabric of the light purple gown being presented to her.
This was armor? Sarah ran her fingers through the material, rubbing them together. The fabric felt like silk! This was even finer than the armor given to her by Quisen however long ago that was. This gown could effortlessly be worn to the most formal of occasions, while easily being worn out to dinner at their favorite restaurant. This had to be the finest dress that she had ever been given. Then she thought back to the closet full of gowns back at the castle. Her wardrobe here certainly outshone the one from back home, that’s for sure.
One of Maelnar’s daughters approached, gently tugging her arm, indicating she was to follow.
“Guess I’m changing,” Sarah told her husband, as she was herded out of the room. “Be right back!”
While the soldiers all admired their new armor, master Kharus smiled mischievously. He had yet to present his finest gifts to their intended recipients. Pulling out his final wrapped bundle, he took his time removing the fabric coverings, making a show of exposing as little of the concealed item as possible until he was ready. The chamber suddenly hushed as all eyes turned to look at the newcomer. Steve sucked in his breath.
Sarah had reentered the room, wearing her new “armor”, although it appeared to everyone else that she was now decked out in her finest apparel, meshing nicely with the finely attired dwarves. The gown was a perfect fit, extending all the way down so that it gently brushed the floor. There was the slightest rustling of fabric as Sarah joined her husband at the front of the procession, delighting the dwarves with an elegant curtsy. In unison, the Council of dwarves bowed in return.
“You look beautiful! Just like a princess!”
Sarah beamed at her husband. “Thank you. I’m not comfortable being the center of attention like this.”
“Better get used to it when you look like that.”
Doing her best not to blush, Sarah smiled.
Still smiling at Sarah, Maelnar turned to Kharus. “Are ye ready?”
“Aye.”
Quizzically, Steve and Sarah returned their attention to the blacksmith, who was busy unwrapping the last package. Finally removing enough coverings to pull a smaller bundle free, every human present gasped as the final piece of fabric was removed, revealing a magnificent two-handed broadsword. But what caught everyone’s attention was the blade itself. It was blue! Sidling a bit closer, Steve gazed admiringly at the magnificent masterpiece. The sword measured close to four feet in length, from pommel to sword tip, with ancient dwarven runes etched into the colored blade on both sides. The grip was wrapped tightly in black leather, with a griffin on each end of the golden guard. Brilliant sapphires were set into the hilt in various places. Steve whistled in admiration.
Holding the sword up high so that everyone could admire the unique weapon, Kharus presented it to the human captain.
“In honor of yer bravery and courage, brother, we are honored to present ye with this token of our appreciation.” The dwarf held the hilt out to the captain, who stood there in shock. Seeing no move to take his gift, Kharus placed the sword into his hands. Turning back to retrieve the second bundle, Rhenyon could only stare at the exquisite work of art now in his possession.
“Breslin, step forth.”
Surprised, the dwarf moved next to Rhenyon. Casting a quick, admiring glance down at the sword his friend was holding, the dwarf turned to see what the skilled blacksmith was unwrapping next. His eyes widened as the cloth on the double-bladed ax fell away. As with the sword, the first thing Breslin noted was the color. The blades were a striking red, also with the ancient runes etched into both sides. The same griffin was carved into both sides of the ax head, with a large ruby set into each side of the ax. Mouth open in shock, Breslin took the weapon Kharus presented him.
Sliding the coverings off the final weapon, Kharus presented Steve a twin to Rhenyon’s sword, only this time the blade was forest green, with emeralds adorning the hilt instead of sapphires. Steve stared at his sword, admiring the detail of the carved griffins and the ancient symbols on the blade.
“Behold the Mythra triad, crafted solely for the three of ye. Sir Rhenyon, ye be holding Mythron, of the blue blade. Breslin, ye have Mythryd, with its double red blades. Finally, sir Steve, ye be holding Mythrin, of the green blade.” Smiling profusely, Kharus surveyed the recipients of his gifts. “Each blade will forever hold its edge,” the dwarf explained, “while simultaneously being able to slice through practically any material. Use these weapons well.”
The two humans were unable to speak, still staring incredulously at their gifts from the dwarves. Breslin, testing the sharpness of his ax blades for the fourth time, bowed in appreciation to master Kharus, who bowed in return.
“I will treasure this always. I thank ye.”
“That goes for me, too,” Rhenyon finally managed to say.
“Same goes,” Steve murmured.
****
Returning to their quarters to collect their belongings, the departing guests decided to honor their hosts by remaining attired in their new armor, with Steve and Rhenyon both displaying their new swords. For Steve, however, it was a little more difficult. Wanting to display both of his new weapons, the avi
d sword collector decided to wear both on his back, each handle over a shoulder. As they left the chamber that they had thought of as home for the last two weeks, Sarah snorted, stifling a chuckle.
“What is it?”
Sarah glanced at her husband, eyeing the two swords strapped across his back.
“I feel like I’m following a walking map.”
“What?”
“You have a big ‘X’ on your back. ‘X’ marks the spot!”
“Zip it.”
“What are you going to do with two swords?”
“Well,” Steve admitted, the corners of his mouth turning upwards in a smile, “actually its three swords and an axe. Rhenyon gave me his old sword and Breslin gave me his axe.”
“What in the world for?”
“Are you kidding me? Authentic Lentarian weapons. I’ll put ‘em on the wall in my office back home! How cool will that be?”
Sarah shook her head. “Men.”
Arriving at the plaza where they had previously partied all night, Steve and Sarah bowed to the dwarves, who reciprocated the gesture. Rhenyon and his men arrived moments later, each carrying their belongings in a type of duffel bag slung across one shoulder. Saying their final goodbyes to their new friends, the small group assembled in front of the teleporter.
Sarah chuckled, shaking her head.
“Guys, guys, this will never work. We can’t have you gentlemen arriving back at the castle decked out in that fine armor, with your dirty clothes slung across your back.”
The soldiers all grinned at her, inspecting their own appearance and that of their companions.
“Drop your bags in front of you,” Sarah ordered.
Without waiting for their captain’s approval, three bags plopped unceremoniously onto the ground. A moment later, they all vanished, having been transported back to the castle. Smiling, Sarah looked at Rhenyon, who sheepishly held out his own pack. It vanished moments later, joining the others back in the throne room of castle R’Tal.
“I’ve charged several more crystals,” Steve informed her, automatically patting several of the pouches along one strap of the nohrstaf harness. “I have plenty in case you need to use them for this jump.”
“Thanks, I’m pretty certain that I will.” Sarah turned to the men, who were now trying to suck in their stomachs. “Okay, who’s first?”
“I will be the first,” Rhenyon declared, stepping forward.
Taking Rhenyon’s arm, they vanished. One by one they were teleported back to the castle, taking only enough time for Sarah to recharge her jhorun between each teleportation.
With Sarah gripping his arm tightly, Steve materialized in the Great Hall, being the last to make the journey. Both thrones were currently occupied, and the entire hall was filled with the castle’s nobility, all wearing their finest. Either they had just interrupted some important function, or –
The room erupted into cheers as everyone started clapping and whistling, hailing the famous Nohrin and their brave companions. When the exuberant applause finally died down, Kri’Entu stood.
“Made some new friends, did ye?”
Grinning sheepishly, Steve nodded, while Sarah smiled at the queen.
Directing his gaze over to his captain of the guard, the king grinned.
“Looking good, captain.”
“Thank you, sire.”
“May I see… what was it called again? Mythron? May I see Mythron?”
Shocked, Rhenyon unsheathed his prized sword and presented it to the king. “How did ye learn of this? We only received them no less than an hour ago.”
“I make it a point to stay informed, especially when denizens of this castle are guests in another city.”
“Someone told you what was going on?” Steve asked, shocked. “Who? I thought it was supposed to be an unknown city!”
Enigmatically, the king smiled at Steve. Returning his gaze to the magnificent blue sword, he sighed. This was truly a masterpiece, the king thought. They could not have selected a more deserving person to give this to.
“Would his majesty care to see Mythrin?” Steve reached over his right shoulder and started pulling the sword free of its scabbard.
“Other shoulder, sweetie.”
His hand freezing in mid pull, Steve sighed. Naturally. He had had a fifty-fifty shot of executing a move he’d only seen in movies, where the hero gracefully reaches over his shoulder and pulls out his sword. Returning the sword he’d had helped create back into its scabbard, he reached behind his other shoulder to unsheathe his gift from the Kla Guur clan. Presenting it hilt-first to the king, Steve gave a small bow.
Returning Mythron to its owner, the king admired its green twin.
“These are truly magnificent. Yer other sword, is that the sword that ye had a hand in fashioning?”
Steve pulled the dragon sword free, electing to hold it himself rather than tie up both of the king’s hands. “This sword was the result of sheer curiosity.”
“Oh? Please explain.”
“We were exploring the city and decided to check out one of the numerous workshops. It turns out that the place we stopped was the workshop of master Kharus, who apprenticed under Maelnar himself. I wanted to see what it was like to be a blacksmith, so he had me strike a few blows on a shield he was just starting to create. Liked what he saw, so I was drafted into service.”
Ny’Callé stifled a chuckle. “Ye would make a good bard, sir Steve.” Smiling at Sarah, the queen leaned forward. “I do like yer gown, Sarah. A gift from the dwarves?”
“Yes, it is. I love it. Believe it or not, it provides the same amount of protection that a suit of armor does. You should feel this material!”
Forgetting that she was formally addressing a queen, Sarah hurried over to Callé’s throne. More interested in the dress than the story Steve was relaying, the queen rubbed a piece of the fabric between two fingers.
“It feels like silk. This has the strength of armor??”
Sarah laughed. “That’s exactly what I said after Kharus told me the same thing.”
“Impressive. I am glad ye have returned safely, Sarah.”
A sudden disturbance attracted everyone’s attention. Several of the soldiers let out shouts of surprise. Darius had emerged, slowly limping towards his companions.
“Darius! Are ye well?”
“How the ruddy hell are ye, Darius?”
“Ye have a gift from the dwarves,” Rhenyon stated, turning to go through the pile of belongings Sarah had teleported back. “Hold still for a moment.”
With Darius outfitted in his new armor, the injured soldier moved to stand next to his captain. “Why did they gift me with armor?” Darius asked miserably. “I lasted all of, what, ten minutes into the first battle? What kind of soldier is that, anyway?”
“Join the club, mate,” Pheron whispered back. “We were sent away during the heat of the battle.”
“What? Who eradicated the guur then?”
“Sir Steve, the captain, and Breslin. It was sir Steve who destroyed the female guur.”
While Pheron attempted to restore Darius’ self-esteem, the queen sat, mesmerized, while Sarah recounted some of their more harrowing exploits.
When their story had been told for what felt like the hundredth time, the king and queen both took their respective places on the thrones. Kri’Entu leaned forward, addressing Steve.
“Ye may be interested in meeting the newest liaison to this castle.”
“Umm, okay.”
“May I present Pheris, newly-appointed liaison to the griffins.”
“Pheris? The same Pheris who –”
“The very same. A contingent of griffin visited the castle not long after yer skirmish to express their gratitude for yer gift of the elixir and the meal. We started a dialogue, and am now pleased to say a new human-griffin alliance has been forged. Ye have my thanks, and the thanks of the kingdom of Lentari.”
A familiar griffin appeared, quietly taking up residence close t
o the queen. Pheris bowed in Steve’s direction. Bemused, he returned the bow.
“May we see the portal key, please.”
Always the smart-mouth, Steve blurted out his response before his mouth could censor itself.
“Which one? The new one or the old?”
“Sorry? Have ye more than one?”
Nodding, Steve pulled out the green portal key, presenting it to the king. Still standing beside the queen’s throne, Sarah retrieved the sparkling purple key and handed it to Ny’Callé. Confused, the queen met Sarah’s eyes.
“Ye need two keys to activate the portal? I thought ye needed just the one.”
“They do,” the king confirmed. “This,” he held up the key he was holding, “is the key that my father presented to the Scribes nigh thirty years ago. I do not recognize the purple key.”
“That is the new one,” Steve explained. “It wasn’t until the purple one there was practically finished when Sarah somehow managed to teleport the gate key from our world to here.”
The king’s eyebrows shot up. He turned to Sarah. “Ye teleported that from yer world? How?”
Sarah shrugged, spreading her hands. “I wish I knew. I’ve tried countless other times to see about teleporting something else, but nothing has worked. I just don’t know what I did to do it the first time. It’s very frustrating.”
“I will consult Shardwyn. The level of jhorun necessary to move an object between worlds, no matter how small it may be, is unheard of. There must be some type of explanation.”
“Well, when you figure it out, please let me know, too.”
“I will, Lady Sarah.”
Steve stepped forward and bowed to the king and queen. “Umm, I don’t know if this is a good time to ask this, but is your son packed and ready to go?”
“Mikal is indeed ready to depart, and depart he will,” Kri’Entu said, “but that will be tomorrow. Tonight, we feast in yer honor.”
A small groan sounded from somewhere behind Steve while several soldiers snickered. Careful to hide his rolling eyes from those of royal persuasion, Rhenyon sighed.
Bakkian Chronicles, Book I - The Prophecy Page 39
