“In the caves on the side of your mountain, which lie next to the western stream,” he explained, indicating the location with a lift of his chin, “there hides a group hunted by the king’s dragons. A group he would pay a handsome salary to recover if they were to become prisoners of the dwarf kingdom.”
Turning to glare at the location through the darkness, Baeweth stroked his beard. “And why would you share this news with me? It does not sound as if you serve our good king.”
“I serve justice,” the dragon replied quietly. “Other dragons will attack the travelers at first light, ones I do not believe deserve the fame of killing these enemies of the realm.”
“You wish the glory for yourself,” the dwarf laughed loudly, seeing through his plan. Narrowing his gaze, he suggested, “You would provide an equivalent reward for your prestige?”
“Yes,” Putwyn hissed. “Take them into your kingdom and hide them. I will come later and barter for their release, and I will receive the credit for their capture,” he chortled, excited to see how his plan might succeed.
“This will cost you dearly,” the king nodded, still caressing the dark hairs on his face. “We will have to retrieve them before the sun comes.”
“Yes. If you do not, it will be too late and the opportunity will be lost. Is there a way to reach them unseen?”
“I may be able to achieve it,” the king muttered, considering what he knew about the narrow opening. “The cave behind it is quite large, and one of my dwarves has fancied a project there for some time.”
“I suggest you allow him to begin this very night,” the dragon pushed in a hoarse whisper.
“Yes, we will make our best attempt to bring them into Rhong. You will come in seven days with payment for their return,” the dwarf stipulated. “I have not named my price, so suffice it to say you will impress me with riches should you wish me to comply.”
“Of course, my lord,” the dragon bowed, “I will see you in seven days, and I will deliver riches beyond your dreams,” he repeated the terms, then leapt into the air.
Watching him fly, the king muttered, “I can dream of quite a lot.” Shuffling over the access, he called to the guard who had awakened him, “Quickly, locate Hayt and send him to my quarters. Tell him to bring the plans for that vista he is always on about, and hurry.”
“Yes, my lord,” the gateman replied, turning into the dark halls and making his way to the living quarters above the great chambers.
Meanwhile, the dragon returned to the clearing by the stream, where his two companions slept soundly. They were not disturbed when Putwyn retook his place among them, and he coiled back into his spot, his heart beating loudly within his pointed ears.
Lying in the darkness, his pulse slowed as he considered his success. The plan rested in the hands of the dwarves; he had done all he could for the moment, and it would be up to Lord Baeweth to secret the princess and her friends away.
Rhong
Arriving at the king’s quarters, Hayt smoothed his unruly blond locks. Clearing his throat, he called as he entered the door, “You have sent for me, uncle?” Crossing to the table, he lay the rolls of paper that held his plans upon it, catching one as it escaped and fell to the floor.
Being in the king’s personal chamber always gave him an odd feeling in the pit of his gut. His grandmother’s brother, and therefore his great uncle, he had been an unwilling member of the royal family, as he preferred the work of an architect and structural engineer. He enjoyed getting his hands dirty as he helped to complete the plans he made for their growing community within the mountain, something that did not earn him much respect within his kin.
“Yes, yes,” Baeweth replied, securing his favorite gown across his shoulders. “I have given consideration to your plan for a lookout in the northeastern caves. How long would it take to open up the vista?” Stepping up to the younger man, he gazed up at him, as his great nephew towered above all of the other dwarves at over five and a half feet in height. The average was closer to four.
“How long?” his nephew blinked at him, confused by the question. “Weeks at most, as the cave is already there –”
“No, I mean how long would it take to access the cave tonight. Could you open the wall or expand our closest tunnel?” the king clarified. “Show me your charts, son.”
Searching through the scrolls, Hayt located the one he wanted and unrolled the yellowed piece of parchment, then frowned, “What do you mean tonight? All of my crews are asleep, and we are currently working on the new tunnels on the eastern boundary.”
“Yes, the new tunnel,” Baeweth muttered, running his fingers over the drawings for the proposed addition. “But if I were to need the opening tonight, could it be done?”
“I suppose that it could,” Hayt sighed, stroking his full beard. His blue eyes studying the shorter man, he added, “You want it built at night?”
“We live inside a mountain. What do you care if the sun shines outside or not?” the king growled at being questioned.
Blinking a few times, the younger dwarf agreed with a shrug, “I don’t suppose it matters.” Pointing at the location the connection would be made, he speculated, “A few hours is all we would need to tunnel between the cave and our corridor. We did the testing last year, before you decided against the addition…” He hesitated, then asked, “Why are we building it now?”
“No reason.” The king brushed him off with a wave of his hand. Cutting his eyes over, he could see his great nephew would not be so easily persuaded. “All right,” he whispered. “I’ve been told there are enemies of the Supreme Dragon hiding in the cavern. If we can bring them within our walls, a reward might be offered for their captors.”
“Oh, uncle,” Hayt grunted, raising his hands in disgust. “You’ve dragged me from my slumber to add a bit of coin to your coffers?”
“Well, yes,” the old man laughed. “But you get to build your guard tower.”
“Yes, in the middle of the night,” Hayt spat, rubbing at his red face. “My crew will be angry enough. What are we to say when a group of vagabonds are discovered?”
“Say nothing,” the king offered, waving his hands about in the air as if he were hiding the truth from plain sight. “Bring them to my throne room and present them to me, and I will deal with them. And do not tell them anything, either.”
“Oh, uncle,” Hayt repeated with a shake of his head. “One day, will you be satisfied with the wealth you have hidden away? Our vaults are full, and we add new ones every year, but it is never enough.”
“Do as I say,” the king replied curtly, thumping the pages before them as he spoke. “The access must be dug before first light. Now go!”
Shaking his head as he rolled the page, Hayt marched out of the room and through the corridors. “Awaken Firen and have him rouse his crew,” he instructed the guard who followed him, “and be quick about it. Have them meet me at the second level up, where we measured for the emergency vista.”
“Where?” the guard asked doubtfully.
“Just tell him that. Firen will know what I’m talking about even if you don’t. I’ll get the equipment gathered so we can begin as soon as they get there,” he grumbled, stomping through the doorway into the great hall at the center of the city. At the other end, he worked his way through a few more tunnels to arrive at the storage caves.
Selecting picks and shovels, he loaded them into a deep wheel barrel, then set up a second. “We’ll get complaints for sure,” he ranted under his breath, certain the rest of the mountain would not be happy about the late hour and the racket that would echo through their halls.
Pushing the first cart up the slope of the path, he arrived at the section of wall he had marked back when he first realized the fissure had opened up on the great rock face of the cliffs outside. “This is preposterous,” he grumbled, sliding his hand over the faded symbols. “Years I have thought of this, but it only matters to him when there is a coin to be made from the venture.”
“Tonight,” Firen grumbled. “Have you both lost your minds?”
“The king would be happy to hear your protests,” Hayt agreed. “I’m sure there is room in the cells for you to return to your rest.”
His features drawn into a heavy frown, the chief of Hayt’s crew growled, “That does not amuse me.”
“Ah, well, then perhaps you will cease with the unpleasantries, and let’s make a hole, shall we?”
“Why tonight?” Firen pushed, seizing his tool and using it on the rock. His swing a perfect arch, the tip of his pick landed against the jagged line of a crack and sent bits of the stone flying, widening the crack with every blow.
“I believe he is concerned about our safety. He wants to get the vista opened as soon as possible, now that the dragons have begun fighting among themselves,” the king’s nephew lied expertly.
The fib convincing, the other man took over the spreading of it, informing each of their arriving crewmen the reason for their haste so that the new entrance into their intended cave would be ready to begin the next phase well before the day had dawned outside their dark mountain.
Hours later, Amicia lay within their cave. The night before, they had sat within its darkness, praising how well it would hide them if the dragons had been watching or scouring the mountain.
The stream that flowed beside the shelf that had formed in the rock babbled and gurgled as it rushed by, its cascade almost a dull roar as it poured onto the layers of stone. At some time in the past, it had pooled there on the shelf, and the cave had been eaten away by the swirling water, as the soil inside had been less dense and easily removed.
The mouth of the cave heavier and made of firmer sediments, it had remained, so they could sit out on the narrow space, which spanned a mere six feet deep and ten feet wide, while the cave itself had turned out to be more than thirty feet long and nearly as much in width.
Lighting the room with her hamar gem, they had found it to be dry and almost completely free of bugs or other infestations, so they had placed their beds inside, feeling safer than the open air of the cliff on the front of their cave, as if it were a porch and they were still inside their cabin at New Abolia.
Lying still, the girl could hear the scrape of shovels against the rock and the thump of picks as they landed against the wall above her. Sitting up, the breath in her chest grew hot with fear. The others slept, and her mouth felt dry at the thought of having to wake them and flee before the sun rose.
Climbing out of her cover, she tiptoed among them, carrying her boots so that she could sit on their entrance stones and contemplate the path they would take when they left the cave. Up, she presumed, but would they get far if the dwarves made it out and realized their presence?
“Good morning,” Piers whispered gruffly when she arrived at the mouth of their cave.
“Good morning,” she echoed, her lungs still burning with dread. “Have you been awake long?”
“Since I realized what I was hearing,” he sighed, “assuming you have noticed the sound as well.”
“The dwarves digging against the wall,” she confessed, closing the distance and sitting beside him so that her feet hung over the side next to him. Putting on her boots, they clicked as she kicked her heels gently against the rock below.
“Aye,” he agreed, “almost as if they are digging into our very cave. I wonder if they know that we are here.”
“If you suspect this, why do we not flee?” she gasped.
Raising a hand, he pointed straight out over the top of the trees. The moon in the west close to setting, the light shone across the tops of them with brilliant, glittering light. Dancing along above the canopy, dark shapes flapped their massive wings as they circled, seemingly so close they could spew their fire and reach them.
“Dear God,” she breathed. “Do they know we are here?”
“I suspect that they do. If we had lain out on the shelf, or if there had been no actual cave, they could have killed us easily. With us hidden inside, they needed to wait for us to come out and continue our climb. Only then could they be sure we were all destroyed,” he explained somberly.
“We’re trapped,” she whimpered, angry tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Do we face the dragons or hope the dwarves get to us first?”
Shrugging, he growled, “I fear the dwarves less, but I believe they will not open the gap in time. As soon as the sun is up and we do not come out, the dragons will probably attack the mouth of our cave out of desperation. They will in the least fill our hiding place with heat and flame, and we will be cooked if not burnt into blackened lumps of flesh.”
“A lovely image to look forward to,” the girl bit in reply. “So, what is your plan for getting us out of here? Can we hide in the water and make our way back down?”
“Doubtful,” he shrugged, grasping a few loose stones and tossing them over the side one at a time. “I was going to let you sleep until the first light and hope the dwarf diggers win the race,” he admitted in a quiet tone.
“Can we not dig towards them?”
“Have you brought a pick or shovel in your pack?” he barked with a laugh. Shaking his head, he commanded, “Sit quietly, and enjoy what could be your last morning, love.” Offering his hand, he waited for her to place her fingers between his.
Her lip forming a small pout, Amicia accepted the digits. He might have woken his wife and spent the minutes with her, but he had chosen to keep her suffering short, as each second that passed would be pure agony, knowing either fate that awaited them would be painful and most assuredly the end.
Behind them, the noises grew louder and yet remained faint enough not to awaken the others. Before them, the moon disappeared, and only a few minutes later, the sky to the east began the slow shift of sunrise.
“It’s beautiful,” Amicia observed more calmly. The deep purple of the sky snuffed the stars, with pink and orange slowly creeping into it before the bright red edge of the sun topped the barren side of the mountain to the east.
Leaning towards her, his lips puckered, Piers gently pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I have enjoyed our time together,” he whispered, but only an instant before chaos erupted within the cave.
Shouting echoed across the tops of the trees as both Lin and Zae screamed. The men shouted at the dwarves, reaching for their weapons.
“Piers, the dragons come!” Amicia cried, pointing at the three shadows flying towards them at top speed.
Pulling her by the hand, they joined the others inside the cave, where he called loudly, “Everyone calm down! Stop with the squealing. We have attracted the dragons for Eriden’s sake!”
“Dragons?” Meena breathed as the others fell silent. “They have found us.”
“Aye,” her husband nodded. “They’ve been circling outside.”
“Well, the dwarves are digging through this wall,” Reynard informed him angrily, indicating the place where loose rocks had begun collecting on their side.
“Aye,” the Mate said again, “let us pray they make it before the dragons –”
At that moment, the wall gave way and crashed in upon them, sending their smaller members sprawling. On the other side, eight tiny man shapes could be none other than the dwarves. Holding up a lantern, one of them gasped, “Why are there mortals in our new vista?”
Grabbing his pack, the Mate stepped towards them. “We don’t have time to explain. Dragons will fill this hall with fire at any moment.”
“Dragons,” a second clipped, laying his pick over his shoulder as he inspected the lot.
Taking charge, Hayt helped Amicia to her feet, then paused when Zaendra placed her small dark hand into his, which sharply contraste
d with his pasty white flesh. Rubbing at his filthy hair, he mumbled, “I’m Hayt, the king’s nephew and head of this work detail.”
“That’s great. May we come inside?” Piers insisted, already shoving Bally towards the narrow hole that had been made.
“Yes, of course,” the tallest of the dwarves replied, still holding the girl’s appendage firmly. “Here, let me help you,” he offered as he grasped her elbow and guided her over the rubble.
Within minutes, they had gathered their things and carried them through the new opening while Hayt dared a closer look at their cave’s mouth and the flat shelf in front of it. Seeing nothing, he ventured closer, where he could see the three forms turning in a rapid circle and watching the mouth of the party’s hiding space, seemingly eager to greet them should they go out.
“Well?” Piers demanded when he returned to them. The group had been brought inside and were cowering along the rock wall of the path.
“They are waiting for your exit. Soon, I daresay they will resort to fire-blasting the cave.” Looking anxiously at the passage they had formed between the two, his mind raced. “I wonder if we should try to wave them off from that endeavor or try to reseal this so our cave isn’t possibly burned in the process.”
“Hayt,” his uncle called as he scampered up the ramp, his favorite robe lined with fur flowing around him. “I hear we have guests,” he announced loudly.
“Aye, Piers Massheby, at your service,” the Mate replied thickly with a mock bow. “Unfortunately, the dragons outside won’t be too happy about it.”
“Dragons,” the king laughed, pushing through the opening. “Allow me to handle them,” he boasted as he disappeared into the darkness of the cave. “Uh, hand me a light,” he instructed, his hand poking back through the hole.
Taking a lantern that was offered, Baeweth hurried over to the exit of the cave and stepped out onto their new vista, laughing loudly at the sight of it. Moving around so that he could clearly be seen and recognized, he discerned the three brightly colored creatures against the morning sky.
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