A Quick Sun Rises (18 page)

“Run or die!” the boy suddenly shouted and bolted, just slipping past Helgar’s grip as he reached out to halt the boy’s escape. The guard instantly took up the chase but Helgar called them back.

“Let’im be,” he said with a sigh. “None be knowin’ the horror that boy been seein’. Let ‘im be off.” All eyes turned and regarded the prince, waiting for his instructions. “I be knowin’ as good as any where me Da would be in the palace.”

Bardolf approached his friend and stopped briefly at his side. “Then let’s be to it,” he said softly only able to guess at what his prince, and probably his new king, was thinking and feeling under his rough exterior. Though tough as the mountains that bred them, dwarfs were also big hearted, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for those they loved or respected.

The palace was almost unrecognizable inside. The once pinnacle of dwarf craftsmanship and ingenuity had been reduced, in many areas, to piles of rubble and dust. Dead guards and house staff left a gruesome trail of blood and gore laid out in such a manner as to direct any who entered toward the location where it must have all begun. Helgar’s heart sank and the light of hope he’d kept shelter suddenly waned to near extinction as the pathway of carnage led the group toward the great hall where sat the ancestral throne. The once great and ominous room looked small now with the mounds of rock and statuary strewn about in a pattern of chaos. The air was thick with moisture and difficult to breath.

Though the guard remained ever ready and vigilant, as was their duty, Helgar walked almost aimlessly toward the throne where, against hope, he knew he would find his father. Climbing over one of the great troll statues that once lent ominous trepidation to the hall, Helgar finally caught site of his father seated on the throne. For a brief moment his breath caught as his father’s posture seemed to suggest relaxed repose but almost as instantly, the pile of dead guards that surrounded him and the cracked look of his skin were indefatigable proofs of his father’s end. The skin on all the dead around the throne mimicked that of those they had seen in the city. It was like the fissures left in an empty lake bed that had been flogged by an unrelenting sun until it fractured the surface into a spider web of caked ridges.

Helgar made to approach the thrown, and his father, but a firm hand suddenly caught his arm holding him in place. He turned a scathing look on the one who dared disrupt his thoughts and motion only to be met by the moistened eyes of his elite guard’s leader. “Let us be turnin’ our backs on this place of dread,” pleaded Rangor, “and not be rememberin’ our king in such a state.”

Helgar’s fierce, rage-filled eyes held Rangor’s for a brief moment before he turned back to his father, yanking his arm free as he did so, intent on approaching the throne to pay proper respect.

“Please,” Rangor whispered, the emotion escaping through his voice.

Helgar stopped short. Whether it was the word itself or the emotion that coated it, he could not tell, but something touched him as he looked about at the guard who had been charged to protect his father and who would now protect him. He could see the sense of loss in their eyes at having been absent when their king had needed them most. He could see the desire they held in their hearts to be among the many dead surrounding the throne instead of among the living who were mere witnesses of the unthinkable. It was his father, Helgar told himself. He had the right to mourn as he would. But the darkness that seemed to enshroud the guard and the obvious pain they felt at seeing their charge dead softened the battle hardened dwarf to the point of heartbreak.

Taking a deep breath, he forced one last look at his father before turning back to Rangor. “We must be findin’ all that yet be alive who can be holdin’ an axe. We be goin’ to war.”

Chapter Thirteen 

Tam let the warmth of family wash over her as she sat by the fire wrapped in her mother’s arms. It had almost been too overwhelming for her when they came upon her father out on patrol earlier that day. Since then it had been a storm of activity as word spread quickly that she and Dor had returned. Questions about where they had been and how they survived had pressed upon them from all sides as family after family had come to their hut to see for themselves if the rumors were true. Finally, BekSagn, her father, had to close off their home to anymore visitors, except Dor and his family, until they’d gotten the answers they had yet to receive and understand about their children’s sudden disappearance. All had given them up for captured and killed by the trolls that infested the mountains and who had so often raided their village and killed their people. Bek had been on one of the very patrols that were sent out to protect against such attacks when he’d found her.

Tam gave her mother a squeeze with her arm letting the stress and pain of the past months wash away in the comfort of her embrace. Now that she was home, it was almost as if the trials she had faced hadn’t even happened. It all seemed to melt away in the warmth of home. The only thing that stood as a reminder of where she’d been and what she’d faced was the story Dor was telling their parents at that moment. They had agreed that until they could talk to DaxSagn and get his arrow that it would be best to stick to a story that didn’t involve invasions or HuMans. They needed that arrow and couldn’t risk the repercussions that would likely follow should they tell the whole truth at once.

Dor glanced at her as he laid out the narrative they had agreed upon, some of which was actually true. He even made up that they used his hair to start fires to keep warm to explain how short it was. That had caused no small stir of hero worship by Tam’s family and beaming pride from his own. Had they really known why it had been cut the hero worship quite possibly would have moved up to god status.

“But if you were trapped in that cave for so long, how is it you were able to survive without starving?” All stared at QalSagn, Dor’s mother, who had voiced the question that all had wondered but which none were willing, or desirous, to ask. One could only imagine the horror of the situation. Luckily, of sorts, Tam still had not completely regained all her weight back from her addiction to
dranlok
lending credence to their claim of being lost and trapped in the mountains this whole time. It also gave cover to the fact that Dor had put on a little extra weight.

Dor fidgeted for a moment as if uncomfortable with the question. Tam watched him knowing that his discomfort was not a show to go along with his answer but because they had not thought to discuss that part. She knew he was squirming because he was trying to come up with a plausible answer. She held her breath. They needed for them to believe their story. If their families had doubts then surely others would not believe either. Though she wanted to shout out to everyone the dangers they were facing, they had to stick to the plan or risk losing their opportunity to make a difference. Dor glanced at Tam and she caught the brief glint that flashed in his eyes. He had something.

“I…I’d rather not talk about it,” he stammered, “if you don’t mind. Let’s just say that we did what we had to.”

Tam’s head suddenly felt light and she realized that she was still holding her breath. But she didn’t let it out until their parents all joined in with only words of encouragement and sympathy. “We understand,” her father said. “Of course,” Dor’s father, TaqSagn, offered. “You poor children,” his mother gushed, while PanChao, Tam’s’ mother gasped and just squeezed her tighter. Tam smiled back at Dor who masked his own mischievous look behind a down-turned mouth and a shake of his head in acceptance of their pity.

“It doesn’t matter,” Pan finally added, the emotion breaking into her voice. “What is of most import is that you have returned, never to leave again.”

Tam stiffened at the announcement, her eyes quickly filling with tears as her mother’s words slapped her across the face.
Never to leave again
. She sighed, fighting back the emotion that luckily everyone took as happy acceptance and joy at being back in her family’s hut. Dor looked at her knowingly wanting to reach out and embrace her but holding back since no one was yet aware of their growing relationship. The joy of the evening was suddenly gone and both young Chufa were left feeling empty.

All remained silent for long moments deep within the recesses of their own thoughts when loud laughter outside broke through the rigid walls. “That’s right!” Qal exclaimed. “Tonight is the FasiUm.” All eyes suddenly fell on Dor and Tam whose faces both flushed. Once a year, at the end of the spring moon, the Chufa all gathered together at a great celebration where those males who were of age were put on display for the females of age to choose, if they so desired, who would be their life mate. It was generally encompassed in a great feast and dancing and no real ceremony was involved save for the simple act of an eligible girl taking who she desired for her mate by the hand. If the young man accepted the match he need merely keep hold, if not, then he could release his grip at any time and the girl was free to pick another. Should the couple agree to the match then each was then considered espoused with a ceremony finalizing the union during the first spring moon the following year.

“Of course,” Pan offered, “no one would expect either of you to go after all you have been through. There is always next year.”

“Right,” Taq said in support, “and the Kinpa will be early with the sun to visit with you both. A good night’s rest is probably what you need most right now.”

Dor stole a glance at Tam but was unable to determine her thoughts as she had half buried her face against her mother’s arm. He knew they were all waiting for an answer but he wasn’t quite sure what to say. If he seemed eager to go without Tam leading out he was afraid she might think he was hoping another would choose him. Although, should he decline, Tam might think him not interested in her choosing him. Both were just barely of age so no one would think twice if neither entered but that didn’t matter to him. Why wasn’t Tam responding? He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead as the time seemed to tick away into a gulf of silence. But Tam still remained like a mountain face, treacherous and immovable. Suddenly the thought came to him that maybe, now that they were home, she was no longer interested in him. Maybe their relationship had been built on the excitement and fear of the moment and now that that had passed she had other ideas. The sweat was now starting to roll down his face and his heart felt like it was stuck in an avalanche of rock.

His mother noticed his reaction turning a concerned look in his direction. “Are you well, son?” she asked.

Almost on top of her, Tam suddenly sat up and said, “Yes, I want to go.”

Dor almost fell over. Waving his mother off who had risen to catch him, a bundle of worry for the boy she had thought dead only hours before, he let out a heavy sigh of relief only able to nod his head to the original question and to his mother. “I’ll go too,” he finally squeaked.

* * *

Passing silently in a wide arc around the village, Thane marked the patrols that had been set should the trolls make a raid. He could tell by their careless manor that there hadn’t been the normal raids in quite some time. He smiled sardonically to himself knowing all too well why that was. None had even the slightest notion that he had been close, although he hadn’t gotten too near their immediate vicinity to discover each individual person.

Darting through the forests he felt a moment of peace as he ran. Though his mind was set on what needed to be accomplished, it was invigorating to once again take in the smells and feelings of his forest home. He’d not realized how much he had missed it until he’d returned. Seeing something to his left, he abruptly stopped, his breathing controlled though his heart suddenly quickened its pace. Frozen in place, as if becoming one of the towering trees surrounding him, a tear unexpectedly trailed down his cheek. A flood of emotions crashed over him making him feel woozy as he sorted through the mixture of anger, loneliness, love, shame and a hundred other feelings that marked his life growing up in the hut now facing him in the dark. He chastised himself for not thinking of coming here the first thing after their return. Besides the obvious urgency in their mission, there really was only one person he wanted to see—his mother.

He found himself taking a step forward as if he would merely walk up to the door and walk in but with great effort forced himself to hold fast. Those days were long past since his father had sent him from the hut. His mind battled over the possibility that his mother might be in there this very instant and how easy it would be to just sneak in to see her, to hold her close one last time and let her know that he was alive. He took another step forward but stopped when a loud cry from the direction of the council fire broke through the night air. He looked past the hut in the direction of the noise and blinked. Of course, she would be there as well. A feeling of complete isolation quickly took hold of him and the one tear turned into many.

Running quickly through the trees, he dared not looked back at the home that had housed so much love yet a tremendous amount of pain. He would come back, he told himself. He would see his mother before he left, no matter what the sacrifice or cost. His tears were making it difficult to see and more than once he almost threw himself into the trunk of a tree. Finally he slowed, whipping his eyes and forcing away the feelings that continued to beat him mercilessly.

A shadow in the dark caught his attention and for a brief moment he felt his hand reaching for one of the two swords that were strapped securely to his back. Taking in his immediate surroundings he quickly realized that he had returned to where he’d begun and that the shadow was Jne, poorly hidden behind some brush. He chirped the sound of a cricket as he approached having made the mistake once before of coming up on her in silence and almost taking her blade into his chest for it. He could see her head snap around a blade instantly pulled from its hiding place somewhere on her body. Knowing she lacked the night vision he possessed, he whispered to her as he drew near so she would know it was him and avoid the problems that might arise should she forget his signal.

Returning her blade to its hiding pace, he could see her visibly relax as he closed the final distance between them. Though he knew she could not see as well in the dark, she surprised him when she almost instantly asked, “Are you well?”

He shrugged off the question. “Just strange to be back, I guess.” When she didn’t respond he found himself blurting out, “How long must you remain
jinghar
?”

She gave him a puzzled look that quickly dissolved into the stone face she always wore when there was something unpleasant that had to be done. A long moment passed into uncomfortable silence and he was beginning to think that she would just not answer when finally her eyes took on a challenging fire as if steeling herself for what might occur next. “My debt to you was paid that day I saved your life from the orc.”

Thane was incredulous. “But then why…?” He let his question tale off without being voiced. She had stayed with him all this time acting as if she were still beholden to him but for what purpose? Suddenly the answer was so obvious that he felt the fool for not having seen it before. The moment came back when she’d seemed a different person when the birds had first come and she’d seemed emotionally naked before him. The day she’d promised him a
svaj
and Jack had made such a huge deal about it. All the other tiny moments and smiles she’d given him without the slightest return on his part. She loved him. He suspected it for some time but had been afraid to believe it or broach the subject lest she become angry and deny what he suddenly realized was something that he’d been hoping for deep within. He wanted to reach out with his senses to confirm what he already knew was true but understood that to do so would be a gross breach of decency and trust.

She eyed him closely but could not make out his facial features in the dark to see what he felt inside. Part of her was grateful for that darkness so Thane would not see the embarrassment and pain splayed across her own face. She wanted to say more but felt there was no reason now. He would either both accept her explanation and allow her to stay or send her away to her ultimate shame.

As if on its own volition, Thane’s hand suddenly reached out and took hers into his own. It was warm and calloused baring the marks of one who lived by the sword. Jne soaked it in, a thrill she’d never experienced before racing through her body as she allowed herself to be swept away by a cascade of new emotions and feelings. She opened her mouth to speak, her hand tightening its grip on his when suddenly he broke contact. She gasped from the pain of lost touch but her ache was quickly extinguished by his words.

“Someone approaches.”

Jne immediately reached for her sword but Thane’s hand shot out and caught it, an amazing feat in and of itself. Leaning close to her ear he whispered. “Stay right here.” Her immediate reaction was one of disdain at being told what she should do as if she were a mere damsel needing the protection of a man. But she surprised herself when she remained still and didn’t argue. And though the feeling of his breath and the closeness of his lips had suddenly made her feel dizzy, she trusted him with her life.