The homecoming stonecrus.., p.11
The Homecoming (Stonecrusher Legacy Book 3), page 11
The challenge to my leadership begins. It took two minutes, tops.
“Then get comfortable bedding down elsewhere because they most definitely are. They’re our allies and are instrumental in our successes. I value their input as I’ll value yours.”
“Maybe if they stay with the animals or—”
“This isn’t a negotiation. We aren’t at war with these elves, just as I’m not at war with you as a dwarf. Oghark’s dwarves are a different story. Do you understand my point?”
His belittling expression is supposed to raise my ire, but I already find it easy to ignore him. “Why don’t you pretend like I don’t and explain it.”
“It’s wrong to call every stone a diamond, plain and simple. A wise dwarf appraises each one individually for its strengths and flaws. One might be better than others, while still more might not be diamonds at all.”
“I understand, Chief. Thanks for sharing your wisdom. I sure hope there’s more to the Sui Gheneris than catchy analogies.” Hrothgar walks off, chuckling to himself.
The dwarf named Ook clomps over, his plate armor making that comforting shunk-shunk-shunk sound I’m growing to love. “Right-handed or left?” he asks.
“Left?”
He moves to stand on my right side.
“What’s going on, Ook?”
He stands casually, but he looks around as we speak. “I’m protector of the chief. Hrothgar gave me that title centuries ago. You’re our chief, so now I protect you.”
I face him directly, but he continues to survey the clan. “You don’t need to protect me, although I appreciate the offer. I’ll be fine. Besides, when the time comes for battle, we’ll protect each other.”
He listens blankly, then nods and looks ahead without moving.
Temp waves at me from the other side of the cavern, so I make my way over. As I move, he stays two feet behind me on my right.
Like it or not, I have a shadow.
“Hey, Temp. This is Ook, my new protector. No choice in the matter, it seems. Ook, this is my girlfriend, Princess Tempress Brightchild, heir to the Ahn’Ziu throne.”
Let’s see if that shakes him.
He studies her briefly with no emotion in his expression. He offers a respectful nod and extends his hand, which she shakes. “How should I address you?”
“Tempress will do, thanks. This is Mongolesku, my mount and good friend.”
He nods in greeting to both. “Tempress. Mongolesku. Nice to meet you.” He looks straight ahead again.
Time to change the subject. “Ook, we need to stable our rams. Can you take us to wherever you stable your animals? We can make a cave or a tunnel work.”
The corners of Ook’s mouth curl up ever so slightly. “Follow me, Chief. Have I got a cave for you.” He strides off, and we follow.
The tunnel winds downward, with many offshoot passages running off this one. They range from a few feet to about twenty feet deep before terminating in a granite wall.
Why would anyone create a useless passage? “Ook, why are these passages not finished?”
Without looking back, Ook speaks over his shoulder. “Because we never finished them.”
Ahh, yes. The directness of Ook. I need better questions.
“That makes sense. Did Stonecrushers make them all, and was there a purpose for them?”
“Our people made them to lead to another room, but they never finished.”
“I thought this was a simple outpost for the passage guards. Were there plans to expand?”
Ook looks at me and smiles widely, which is terrifying. “Stonecrushers never do anything half-assed. If it’s worth doing, then do it right. The planning engineers designed Kal'cendrumm to be a self-sustaining community.”
We turn a corner, and the smell of fresh grass wafts up the tunnel. Another ten feet and the tunnel opens onto a grassy meadow. Wild animals wander around a copse of apple trees, with berry bushes dotting the grass sporadically. Even a small stream runs along the far side of the valley.
Our rams are already munching and running, many still with their barding on. As they enjoy the fresh grass, Kal and Ker chase them down to remove their gear.
Temp scratches Mongo’s ear before she sends her mount for a munch and a stroll. “Off you go, Mongo. This field is much better than frozen blades and rotten apples. Enjoy.”
The champion battle ram sprints into the meadow, calling his friends, who run to him. In no time, they’re munching and relaxing without a worry.
Our tour guide gives us the lay of the land. “This valley is a natural fissure converted to support our outpost. It continues for two hundred feet that way, then turns. Currently, we only use this portion and part of the next.”
“Is it the same size all along?”
“The width varies, as you would expect from a natural cavern, but it’s never less than eighty feet wide and never more than one hundred. The granite walls form a peak about sixty feet above us, where the first grand mage stuck balls of brightly glowing light. They give the valley that late afternoon level of light and help the plants grow.”
I kneel and run my hand through the fresh grass for the first time. “By Alghar’s beard, this is phenomenal. We could live here forever and never have to worry about anyone again.”
“Not entirely true, but almost,” Ook replies. “The stream water is clean, and the engineers created an irrigation system to provide water for the plant life. The grass sustains the animals, and the animals sustain us. We’re careful with what we hunt to maintain the balance of critters, which keeps them populating.”
“How is all of this even possible?”
Ook points at Nicodaemus. “I don’t know who the original grand mage was who created it, but our current one fixed a few things when they broke. Before the attack, the lights would flicker, but they never went completely out. The grass also went brown, but he did his magic stuff, and it came back to life.”
“People were living here before the attack?”
“A few herders would bring meats and fruits back to Stonecrusher. That’s all. Hrothgar kept it operating so we would never run out of food. If needed, we could increase the animals and crops.”
“A smart decision. Where are the herders now?”
“Dead.”
Mongo wanders back to Temp and nuzzles her. She smiles and smacks his rump playfully, which makes him charge back across the grass to meet up with his herd.
"That’s one heck of a ram you have there, Tempress. Did you name him after the real Mongolesku?”
“He is the real Mongo. When Waldorf and I escaped prison, we hid in the barn where Brackenbuell kept their rams. That’s where I met Mongo. He was blind from cataracts, with a broken body and a brain so fuzzy from all the skull bashing. He was so depressed and needed my help.”
I chuckle. “Temp has a weak spot for wounded animals and lost causes.”
Ook grins and raises an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
“He wanted my help, so I dumped all my healing into him. It cleared up almost everything then, and I continued to heal his other ailments as we fled to ensure he was in the best shape he could be. We kept each other alive, and now we’re inseparable.”
“So, he’s your protector.”
She slides her hand in mine. “I have two protectors. One’s a thick-headed brute who smells, and the other’s a ram.”
Ook’s howling laughter bounces off the surrounding stone, making the animals stop and stare. “I didn’t know elves had a sense of humor.” He continues to chuckle as he walks into the valley and turns left.
We follow, and I’m once again amazed. Carved into the rockface are doors, windows, and stairs climbing up five stories. On the ground floor, most of them look occupied.
Ook gestures at the ground level. “The one with the chair out front is the chief’s quarters. All of them from the third level up are empty, so the clan can pick whichever they like.”
“I won’t take the chief’s quarters, Ook. I’ll find another place.”
“You’re the chief, and that’s the chief’s quarters,” Ook replies.
“All true, but I’m not kicking Hrothgar out of his home. That’s not why I’m here. Where’s your home?”
“Right beside his, of course.” He points at a door with a rotten turnip nailed to it. Odd.
“Is there one beside you? I’ll take that one if there is.”
He nods. “The boys sleep a few levels higher in case we get attacked. They set up traps and warnings.”
Temp touches Ook’s forearm. “No one mentioned anything about getting attacked. What’s down here that could attack us?”
Ook shrugs. “Lots of stuff.”
We stare, waiting for him to elaborate.
Ook stares back. “If you want, I can tell everyone after dinner.”
We continue to walk toward the housing. “Sounds good. Why would you sleep on the ground floor if somebody will attack you?”
Ook flashes that horrifying smile again. “To be the first into battle. That way, you get the most kills.”
Now that we’re closer, the melon on his door is a shriveled, rotten head.
Mal and Henna stroll toward the housing stairs twenty feet ahead.
“Hey buddy,” I call and wave them over.
“What’s up? Nice setup here, don’t you think?”
“It’s gorgeous, but we have a problem. Ook told me there’s a danger of being attacked by stuff. Get everyone to settle in the uppermost floors. We’ll talk about defensive planning at dinner.”
“I’ll spread the word.” Mal hustles off with Henna, telling everyone he meets.
“Ook, I’ll take the place beside you, on the other side. Temp, why don’t you look a few levels higher?”
Temp scoffs. “Like that’ll happen. Ook, is the one beside Waldorf’s free?”
“All the ones on the bottom are, except mine and Hrothgar’s.”
“Then I’ll take the next one to Waldorf’s.”
“Fine. You take the one between Ook and me for safety. Fair?”
“That will work for me.”
Ook looks at Temp and me. “You want to be on the bottom floor?”
“I want my people safe, so if sleeping up top makes them safest, I’ll sleep on the ground floor.”
“What about you, Tempress? What’s your reason?”
She snuggles against my arm. “We’re a team. Everything we’ve done along the way has been together. If he’s on the bottom floor, then I’m on the bottom floor. Besides, I’ll have Mongo with me, too.”
Gherta and Cutrara wave and walk over. Smoke puffs out of Cutrara’s mouth as she enjoys her long pipe.
Cutrara walks up to my protector, takes a long drag on her pipe, and exhales. “Hey, Ook. It’s been a while.”
He looks down at her, fully a foot and half taller. “You’re still really short.”
“I’m a dwarf. You still smell.”
“Same reason. I missed you, Smokey,” Ook replies with genuine emotion.
“Right back at you, Stinky.” They share the embrace of reunited friends.
He kisses the top of her head before releasing her.
She points her pipe back and forth between me and Ook. “What’s this I hear about attacks during the night?”
I shrug and point at Ook.
Ook confiscates Cutrara’s pipe and closes his eyes as he takes a long drag. He speaks as he exhales, sending out puffs of smoke with each word. “It’s nothing to worry about. Several goblins, lizards, a few troglodytes—nothing big. Oh! That’s a lie because there was that massive cave snake. Maybe thirty feet long and as thick as my thigh. It put up a great fight.”
“What happened?” Temp asks.
“We ate it,” he replies as he rubs his belly.
“Was there anything else that attacked you?”
“That’s all I can think of. If I remember anything else, I’ll mention it when we discuss this after dinner. With your permission, Chief, I’ll get you and Tempress blankets and see if I can rustle up a bed of straw for Mongo.”
“You don’t need my permission, Ook. Do what you think is right.”
“But you’re the chief, and I’m here to protect you.”
I gesture around me. “I’m safe, my friend. If this is going to work, I need you to be independent of me, and if I need protecting, I know you’ll come running. Don’t worry, I might look smaller than Hrothgar, but I can take care of myself.”
“Therein lies the problem,” Hrothgar interjects as he approaches from behind me. “The All-Father says you’re his Sui Gheneris, and who am I to challenge the All-Father? That said, my boys still have questions. They ask me how they are supposed to follow you into battle without ever seeing you fight.”
“Pick your best fighter, and we’ll fight after dinner.”
Hrothgar’s face splits with a devious smile. “Then it’s my lucky day because that would be me.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tempress
Our first dinner in our temporary home is quiet. Kal'cendrumm, the name given to this outpost, is not overly large, so rumors spread quickly.
Word travels fast of Hrothgar’s trickery to get Waldorf to fight him. He claimed his men hesitate to follow a leader who hasn’t proven himself in battle. Waldorf said he would fight their best fighter, and Hrothgar claimed that title for himself.
I’ve casually asked a few of my dwarf friends who know these warriors. Every person said that no one has a problem following Waldorf.
This is personal.
Frankly, I’m amazed at Hrothgar’s gall. An elf wouldn’t challenge the goddess’ champion to see if they’re worth following. Maybe dwarves are less respectful.
Or maybe only one.
Our dwarven hosts make a stew from the dried vegetables they stole from the caravans and the meats they raise in their underground valley. It’s not as tasty as Yassine’s stew, but I’d never tell them that. At least it fills the void in my belly.
Waldorf and I take a spot between Hrothgar’s men and our ladies. Both sides talk and laugh like it’s a family reunion, which it is.
Desala and Dhurgus sit closely together, as a separated couple would after three decades apart. They share private smiles and whispers as the clan around them gives them their privacy.
Fogrog and Dograbelle sit alone against the wall, enjoying their reunion with Tham and Hutrasta not far away.
The sweetest of all is Havaline and her son Haalmouk, who has grown from a youngling into a man since the last time she saw him. Like any mother, she dotes on him and brings him food as if he was still that youngling.
Waldorf nudges my knee with his. “Temp, where are your brothers and the scouts?”
I gaze around the room and see Raxothe walking toward a tunnel carrying her bowl of stew. I point her out to Waldorf. “It looks like they’re not eating with the group.”
Waldorf turns to Ook sitting on his right side and slurping his stew voraciously. He points at Raxothe as she rounds the corner into the tunnel. “Ook, ask the elves and the humans to join us. If we’re going to fight together, we can start by eating together.”
The warrior tips up his bowl of stew and drains it like mead, with gravy and vegetables cascading down his beard. He springs off his rock with a backhand across his face and a belch. “On it, Chief.” He’s down the corridor quicker than an armored man his size should move.
Minutes later, a commotion spills from the tunnel into the cavern. My kin and the humans scurry into the cavern, awkwardly clutching their bowls and mugs of mead. More than a few have brown smears of gravy running down their tunics and angry expressions.
Ook follows the last one, herding them like a cattle dog. “Grab a spot near the fire. We’re one clan now, under the chief.”
Waldorf chuckles beside me. “Thanks, Ook. I appreciate the enthusiasm. Sorry for interrupting your dinner, everyone, but we need to get used to each other. We’re a team now.”
“No elf is part of my team,” Hrothgar mumbles as he stands from his place near the fire and storms away, stew bowl in hand.
Waldorf stands and makes eye contact with each member of Hrothgar’s men. Several butts resettle onto their stones after their knee-jerk reaction to follow their former leader.
It probably doesn’t hurt that Ook is glaring at them as he stands to Waldorf’s right.
I move over to give Eryndor space to sit beside me.
Waldorf leans forward. “Eryndor, have you had a chance to contact your mom or Tasserion? If we’re traveling faster than expected, your army will need to get a move on.”
The prince looks at his feet a moment before replying. “The quelling of the riots isn’t going as planned. There are more elves faithful to Father than Mother realized. They won’t be ready to move for quite a while. We might be on our own.”
Hrothgar eventually returns when he wants more stew and sits closest to his men, only speaking with his warriors.
He will be divisive unless we can sway his men to accept us, the elves. Mother always says it’s best to attack a problem head-on.
I ladle myself more stew and fill Ook’s bowl to the top. “I don’t think we have heard your story, Ook. How did you eleven escape the assault three decades ago?”
Hrothgar stands and jabs his finger at me. “When your lot attacked—”
I spin and stare Hrothgar down. I raise my hand and put him in his place in my most princessy voice, as Waldorf calls it. “With respect, I was asking Ook. I’d like to hear his version.” I pat Ook’s shoulder and smile down at him.
To my surprise, Hrothgar stops talking and sits.
“Well,” Ook begins. “We were on our way to the human city of Fairminster, traveling the tunnel system for safety and speed. Lord Newborn sent an envoy with a request to negotiate for dwarven labor. His human miners found an interesting deposit and needed guidance on how to mine it properly.”
“Why did the chief of the clan go? I’m sure you have people for this.”
Ook looks at his former chief. “When I say interesting, I mean valuable. I don’t know what it is because we never made it. Based on the bits I overheard, the chief wanted to deal with it personally.”
