Into the Storm Page 6

  Farnik leaned forward, then sprinted toward his son with his axe in his right hand. When they had five feet left, Brawny’s axe sliced up, and Farnik dropped into a slide with the beard of his axe snapping out around his son’s left leg. When metal met flesh and cloth, Farnik yanked with a grunt, and Brawnwynn fell forward onto his face.

  In a flash, Farnik held his son’s leg in a lock between his own with his axe poised under the younger dwarf’s beard.

  “Under the eyes o’ the Mountain, our brothers an’ the forefathers within the stone, you have been found unworthy for the right to rule Brawnwynn Mugfist.” Farnik growled with his axe still dangerously close to Brawnwynn’s throat. “I rule here, this family of strong men and women. Your Way is guided by my honor and mine by your commitment to this clan. Will you stand with us and protect Djurn Forge, or will you walk your own path?”

  Brawnwynn grunted with pain and frustration. “I will never betray me clan, da. I stand with clan Mugfist above all else, second only to the city. I do swear on me honor.”

  Farnik nodded once, releasing his son’s leg and standing with a hearty grunt of effort.

  He looked to the crowd around him, raising his arms in challenge as he shouted, “Be there anyone else among ye here today dwarf enough to stand to his convictions who thinks me unfit to lead this clan? If ye do, get ye in here an’ take yer lumps!”

  I found myself laughing harder than I had in a while, as Farnik whipped around and glared. He stepped closer swiftly, then realized who was laughing.

  “Hail, Storm Company!” Farnik grinned, and the dwarves around us turned and cheered rabidly. “Our brothers in arms and our cousin, home at last!”

  “I see we stepped in at a rough time, Farnik.” Jaken stepped forward and cast a mass healing spell on the area, catching both Farnik and Brawny in it. Their wounds almost melted away under the golden light. “You want another go at the kid?”

  “Bah, he learned his lesson, aye?” Farnik looked back to see his son grinning, and a shake of his head signaled he was good. “Well, he will eventually then. For now, we get ready to celebrate, but it seems we have guests with us this day. Tell us, lads, who be with ye?”

  Jaken turned and motioned for the ladies to step up first. “Clan Mugfist, this is someone with whom some of you may be familiar, we have our Lady Darkest and Queen of the Unseelie Court, Maebe. Next, we have the lovely lady in green who could likely rip someone’s head off and look pretty doin’ it, that would be our lieutenant of the guard of Sunrise Village, Vrawn.”

  Both women cut a nice, strong figure as they smiled at everyone. To my pleasure, not a single utterance of the words “elf” or “orc” could be heard.

  “It is a pleasure to meet members of my husband’s clan.” Maebe bowed her head politely, but that was when shit hit the fan.

  Or, rather, the dwarves had found an in.

  “One o’ ours be courtin’ royalty?” One loud bellow of surprise called over the crowd. “He can barely lift an axe an’ he has such a lady ta call his own?”

  I snarled and paced toward the crowd. “Which of you little fuckers thinks I can’t hold an axe?” It was really all for show, but the crowd moved forward en masse and started to poke and prod at me with fingers and jabs to the gut.

  “Think ye’self too good for a proper dwarven lass then, ye wee shite?” One of them called playfully. “Bold thought for a beardless gutter welp like ye’self!”

  The boys waded in, and a brawl almost broke out when someone whistled and took our attention. I turned from the red-bearded dwarf I had lifted from the ground to punch, my fist bunched in his belt as he chuckled heartily, and saw Gerty.

  “Lads!” She hollered, and the dwarves broke ranks and filed into squads like a formation. Well, all for the one I held, of course.

  She walked down the path, joined by her husband with whom she exchanged a brief nod as she made her way toward us.

  “Hey, how’re you feeling?” Jaken almost ran up to her but managed to make it a saunter instead. He stopped to look her over, making it easier for me to take in the details I’d been forced to overlook last time.

  She had rosy cheeks covered by wafts of long brown hair that framed her stout face even though she had tied it in a tight bun like she’d left those strands loose on purpose. Her black eyes seemed clever as she took in everything around her, her simple clothes giving us a view of the wrought-iron musculature that rivaled some of the men in our company and her clan. The way she moved was purposeful, and almost primal in itself as if each step could lead to an attack if she so willed it. At the back of her waist, poking out on each side perched two axes. Her weapons of choice.

  She smiled at Jaken. “I be a’right, Jaken, thank ye fer askin’.” She moved to Muu, who looked at her hopefully. “Ye armed me when I had nothin’ to offer ye in return. I did nae ferget ye, nor yer weapon. Here.”

  She reached into her inventory and offered him his hammer back, and he cradled it against his body lovingly while stroking it. She frowned at him before chuckling and shaking her head.

  She eyed the rest of us. “I cannae thank the lot o’ ye enough fer yer bravery an’ service to this clan. I can only hope to repay the kindness ye gived me an’ mine.”

  “What else is family for?” Balmur grinned, his smile seemed almost practiced and frail.

  Gerty walked straight up to the Azer dwarf and took him in her arms, muttering, “I hear’d what ye went through, lad. I understand yer pain. If ye ever need a shoulder or an ear, ye come ta me, aye? On yer beard, now.”

  Balmur hugged her back, a flash of true pain flickering across his face. “I will, I swear it on my beard.”

  “Good lad.” Gerty pinched his cheek and winked at him before stepping back. “Tonight, my husband and I mean to adopt all of ye into our clan. Now, I be know’n that we had made it clear ye belonged with us, but we mean to make it clear to the world that ye are us. And we are ye.”

  “Does that mean I’m gonna get shorter?” Muu called his question with mock concern. “My brand of handsome doesn’t work with being short.”

  Gerty snorted and laughed as the dwarves in formation eyed him cautiously. Good, their bearing was on point then.

  “All it means is tha’ each o’ ye will be like sons to us, an’ for the rest o’ yer days, all o’ yer lines will be Mugfist, as well, by birth.” She took her fist and pounded her chest with it, the dwarves in formation doing the same. “Lady Shellica, I take it ye have no concerns with our plans?”

  Shellica shook her head with a smile as she advanced on Gerty. “Not in the slightest, old friend. I knew these lads would be destined for great things, but bringing you back to us was something beyond even my wildest dreams. I’m proud to welcome them.”

  Shellica and Gerty took each other and cracked their foreheads together loudly before embracing. The hug lasted until both were nearly in tears, such was the joy they felt.

  “We have one final guest for you all, for all of the dwarves of Djurn Forge, rather.” Bokaj made a motion to Thogan, and the stone-faced dwarf marched his way to the front of our group. He had secreted himself behind all of us as if the love he had been shown earlier had done nothing to quell some of his nervousness at being with his people once more.

  If only you could have heard the sound of more than a hundred dwarven jaws hitting the floor in shock. It was quite thunderous, I swear.

  “I am Thogan Swiftaxe, champion o’ the Unseelie Court, an’ leader o’ the re-emergin’ clan Swiftaxe.” Thogan squared his shoulders as he addressed the dwarves around him. “I am from an era past, an’ while I love that our people thrive, I would see that they have the benefit o’ the ancestors with them still. Our old ways should not perish, an’ through me an’ mine, dwarves can continue to flourish as they have. If ye would take me as an ally, I would see that all of ye be treated as well as can be treated. What say ye?”

  “I think I speak for all o’ me clan when I say that we would be honored to lift our mugs wi
th ye, friend Thogan.” Farnik stepped forward, and the dwarves clasped forearms, gripping tightly with grins in place. This time the dwarves couldn’t hold their tongues any longer and howled in delight and support.

  “Is there anything you lot cannae do?” Brawnwynn muttered as he shoved his way through the dwarves that had flooded the two leaders.

  “I can’t be ugly,” Muu quipped before any of us could answer, eliciting a few snorted chuckles.

  “Ye bring back not just the dead, but our history.” Brawnwynn shook his head as he stared out into the clan. “Magic, history, an’ me ma. We owe ye everythin’.”

  “Think nothing of it, man.” Jaken grinned at his dwarven brother, and they meandered away to discuss things themselves.

  “What time does this shindig take place?” Bokaj called loudly, some of the dwarves turning to look at him. “Tmont is getting hungry, and there are a lot of tails here.”

  The dwarves howled in delight at the joke, and a cold chill swept through me at the thought. “No, seriously, when is it because if she bites me, cat is on the menu.”

  More laughter rang out, and the dwarves pulled all of us toward the living quarters of the compound. There was much left to prepare, and that included us.

  Chapter Four

  Warm water doused my head, and I growled at the dwarves around me. “I asked nicely for you to watch my ears guys.”

  “Oh donnae fret, Majesty, we were watchin’ ‘em fer ye.” One of the dwarves snorted teasingly, scrubbed my back and lifted my arm.

  “Do you really have to wash us?” Balmur muttered almost bashfully. “I can seriously do this on my own.”

  “Traditional hero’s cleansing!” Muu barked pointedly from across the room in his own tub. “It requires the clan to wash the sins and past transgressions of the hero away so that we can be seen as we should be in front of the whole city. All that we need now are rubber duckies and a shower beer and we would really be heroes.”

  A mug of something amber and delicious smelling found its way into our hands, and he grinned. “Now that’s service.”

  “Cleanses the insides too,” the dwarf washing the sole of Muu’s foot explained, and Muu immediately spat the liquid out. “What’d ye do tha’ for?! That’s our best mead!”

  “Is this going to make me shit myself?” Muu eyed the dwarf, and the ones around us just muttered murderously before his attendant shouted a negative back. “Oh, okay.”

  He tilted his head back and drained it in one go, finishing with a loud belch that seemed to go a long way toward calming the dwarves around us.

  This room was a simple washing chamber that only had three tubs in it, occupied by Balmur, Muu, and I. The other guys were in another building getting the same VIP treatment, along with Maebe and Thogan. Vrawn opted to spend some time with Gerty and Farnik getting to know the place and learning about what would be going on tonight.

  Because they sure as hell weren’t telling us anything other than what they thought we needed to know.

  I took a small sip of the amber liquid in my cup, the bitterness of what I expected immediately destroyed by a delicious, sweet burn of fruity goodness with a hoppy undertone that I found quite enjoyable. I drank more, the beginnings of a buzz coming on as I finished the cup.

  “There, ye be clean now, carefully, hop out, an’ we will dry ye off.” The wizened dwarf who seemed to be leading the cleanup crew oversaw our cleansing thoroughly, even going so far as to press a wrinkled finger into the fur on my shoulder to assure himself I was completely dry.

  “I can’t imagine this went as smoothly for everyone else.” Balmur smiled at the thought.

  “Yeah, I wonder who Yoh threatened to stab.” I could imagine the man, a true thoroughbred Texan not enjoying the idea of anyone touching him while he was naked except his wife. “I can almost hear him now.”

  “Pretty sure that was him, does the phrase, ‘touch me again you little fuck, and I’ll see that the hand you use goes up your ass’ ring any bells?” Muu asked with a smartass look on his face.

  Everyone chill the hell out, we have to do this. Jaken groaned.

  He tried to touch my junk! Yohsuke growled savagely.

  “Shut up, Muu.” I pointed at him, and I could see a look of pure disappointment take over his features.

  That makes one person on the whole planet. James chuckled.

  “My will be done anyway!” Muu shouted triumphantly as he threw his arms up into the air and his towel dropped onto the ground.

  “Damn it.” I sighed and looked at the dwarf. “Can we get dressed now?”

  “Aye, but no armor, and no weapons outside yer inventory.” The wizened old man advised before stepping out. He stopped to crack a grin at us, “We know that things can happen, and we like to be prepared too. But only should they happen should you bring out any weapons. Aye?”

  I looked to the others, and they nodded, forcing me to relay, “seems fair.”

  They led us to the training grounds, them in their normal clothes, and us in what we had that wasn’t armor. So that left me with a green shirt with no sleeves, simple brown pants, and my black boots. Balmur wore a simple silver shirt with gray pants and no boots like the dwarves around us, and Muu wore a brown shirt and black pants with no shoes as well.

  The others wore simple clothes, and Yohsuke still wore his shroud, which the dwarves allowed since it wasn’t technically armor.

  The whole of the clan marched surrounding us like an honor guard toward a section of the city we hadn’t been to before.

  This part of the city had large pillars with carved art lining the roadway. Depictions of the forging of the first dwarves, their crafting by the god Fainne, whose desire to make someone in search of things to create themselves led him to breathe life into the dirt and stone to make his children.

  The Mountain, Fainne, bestowing materials upon his children by creating veins of precious metals and gems to mine and use to create as he did.

  The next pillars illustrated the beginnings of dwarven civilization, the people themselves coming together to form the first clans. And from there, cities under the ground, sprawling cities unlike anything even conceptualized by the other races.

  Then it showed a huge cavern where the city once was, making me stop. “What happened here?”

  The dwarves stopped their marching, and the elder that had led our cleansing spoke, “We do not know much of that time in our history, there is much confusion and worry over it. The clans who survived adapted to the world around them and grew closer and stronger than ever.”

  “Lost because o’ our hubris maybe,” Thogan muttered darkly, and when all eyes turned to him, he shuddered. “Odd, now that I be round me kin again, I have to be narrator of our greatest sin.”

  Thogan pointed to the cavern and explained, “This be accurate because we toiled with what we knew precious little of. When we dwarves, the first o’ our kind, had been tasked to create, we did so with fervor. Some created weapons the like I never seed before. Others, armor and monuments that would make a man weep to look at ‘em. But it was those who sought to create life themselves what brought Fainne’s hammer on our heads.”

  His fingers wove nervously through his beard, fidgeting with his eyes closed as he continued, “Dark magic, nothin’ like the light and heat bestowed upon us by the Mountain. Not purposely, mind ye, the rest of us were in the way. Not one o’ us had know’d what were happenin’ but learned of it in the aftermath. The survivors o’ the clan at fault, may their names never be written in the stone of our memory so long as dwarves breathe, told us o’ their misdeeds and we judged ‘em as Fainne had. Swiftly. Deadly.”

  “And from there, you moved on?” James asked quietly.

  “I donnae know the rest, as this was about the time I found a tear in the veil between worlds, and the queen of the Unseelie found me wanderin’ her lands.”

  Maebe smiled. “Mother did say that you were one of the most interesting fighters she had ever come across.”
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  “High praise, Majesty.” Thogan bowed his head in return. “Forgive me, my tales. I’d be happy to sit with one o’ yer historians an’ fill in the gaps.”

  The dwarves around us watched the older dwarf with rapt enthusiasm, some of them skeptical, but I couldn’t help wondering if that could have been why dwarves seemed so resistant to the idea of their people using magic. Because it had almost destroyed them once.

  “We would be delighted to have ye do so, Thogan.” Farnik’s voice returned me to the presence and so too his order, “Let’s move.”

  The pillars led us to a large area hundreds of feet high before a blackened stone ceiling came to view, and at least a hundred yards squared where dozens of dwarven families stood waiting around a stone platform with two small figures on it.

  Dwarves of all ages and sizes stood together around the platform with looks of somber recognition on their faces. The scent of food and drink wafted into the air around us, but we couldn’t find any of it, at least I couldn’t.

  “Up on the platform lads, Queen Maebe, you too!” Farnik encouraged with a look of pride on his face as we mounted the stair.

  We clambered up the stairs and found Fainnir and Pebble waiting for us. The young dwarf wore a simple pair of black pants and a brown shirt. His sparsely growing beard hairs poking out of his chin well on display. He nodded to us stoically despite the boyish grin on his face. We gathered around him with hugs and pats on the shoulders, no words needed. He was an honorary member of the party, and he knew it but was proud anyway. Pebble just stood and waved at us soundlessly, his stumpy arm working back and forth slowly.

  Farnik’s pride seemed to swell as murmuring took those gathered, their attention rapt one moment and seeming scattered the next. He mounted the platform after us and waited for the muttering and noise to calm.

  When it did a few moments later, the leader of the Mugfist clan raised his arms over the crowd, and all eyes came to rest on him.

  “Clans of Djurn Forge!” Farnik shouted and the crowd went nuts, hooting and hollering with abandon for a long minute, then fell silent. “We come together today to raise up the heroes what brought home me Gerty. Our Gerty!”