without getting caught. You'll be happy to know that I did not send them for mossweed — I've broken that habit… I think.
And also, gully dwarf hands never touched the food during preparation — I made it all myself.'
'What a catch — brawn, brains, beauty, and she can cook,' he muttered unconsciously, busy stuffing his mouth.
He listened to his own words and gasped, glancing up quickly, but Perian, intent on her plate, showed no signs of having heard him. They ate quickly and in silence, savoring tastes forgotten in the short week they had been consuming a tiresome catch-all called gully dwarf stew.
When the last bowl was scraped clean, Flint pushed him self back, patting his stomach happily. 'Simply marvelous,' he sighed.
'I'm glad you enjoyed it,' Perian said, standing up. 'I hope you like my next surprise as well.' She danced past
Flint and disappeared behind him into the columns of lime stone that ran from floor to ceiling opposite the pool.
The mountain dwarf quickly returned, holding a long, narrow package wrapped in cotton batting and tied shut with twine. Flint watched expectantly, unable to guess its contents.
Perian's head was dipped nervously as she untied the par cel with shaky hands. 'I've wanted to give you this for a day or two, but the moment just never seemed right. I wish I could have spent a few more days on it…' she mumbled mysteriously as she fumbled with the twine. 'Oh, here!' she said, flustered. She flung back the cloth cover and thrust her hands toward him. 'A weapon befitting a monarch leading his troops to war.'
Curious, Flint peered beyond the wrapping. His breath caught in his throat and he drew no air, his face paling dan gerously.
'What's wrong?' Perian asked, concern and dismay crea sing her face. 'I–I cleaned it up as best I could. I know it's very old, but it's an excellent axe, dwarven-crafted, no doubt. Don't you like it?'
But Flint hardly heard his queen as his eyes focused on the thing in her hands. He reminded himself to breathe, and then he willed his hands forward to grasp the axe.
The haft of smooth oak showed no sign of wear or stress.
Polished lovingly, it was without blemish or knots. The wood blended so perfectly into the flawless steel blade that the axe looked as if crafted from one material. The steel blade itself was of that immaculate white-silver quality, and its circumference was decorated with the most delicate, faint tracings. Flint ran his hands lovingly over the familiar dwarven runes, not one bit lighter than when last he had felt them.
For this was no ordinary axe. It was the Tharkan Axe, the weapon he had found, then been given by his brother Aylmar, and then lost again so many years ago.
'Where did you find this?' he said at last, his eyes still on the wondrous axe. Why was it here? Now?
Perian was mightily confused. She had hoped he would like it, but his reaction seemed to go beyond that. He held it like he would a lover…
'I–I found it in the garbage heap in the Big Sky Room, the day we discovered sludge,' Perian explained, then chuckled. 'You were so sour that day… I don't know what possessed me, but the second I saw this axe I knew I had to hide it away and clean it up so I could surprise you with it.'
'You didn't know it was once my axe?' he asked, looking from the weapon to her with misty eyes. 'But how could you?' he asked himself. 'I never told you that story.'
'What story? This axe was yours? Did you drop it in the
Beast Pit?' Perian was very confused, as her voice rose with her agitation.
Flint shook his shaggy head vigorously, nearly overcome by finding the axe again in, of all places, Mudhole. 'No,' he whispered softly at last. 'My brother, the one who was mur dered by Pitrick, gave me the Tharkan Axe on my Fullbeard
Day many long years ago. We'd found it together during our dungeon-crawling days, but I lost it in a hobgoblin lair here in the Kharolis Mountains during an adventure several years afterward. I later returned to retrieve it, but it was al ready gone. The Tharkan Axe served me better than any
I've had since.' He ran his hands over the haft again, closing his eyes, remembering. 'I thought it was gone forever…'
'What a strange coincidence, finding it here,' Perian mut tered, then shrugged. 'Whoever took it from that lair before you returned probably ended up in the Beast Pit, and the gully dwarves just added it to their piles of treasure.'
She pressed her fingertips to the runes. 'I've made out a few of the words here, but they are in old dwarven. Do you know what they say'?'
Flint shook his head, slipping the Tharkan Axe into the loop on his belt. 'What with adventuring, I never had the time to have them translated, nor really cared to while the axe worked so beautifully. And then I lost it.'
He realized suddenly that he had been so overwhelmed by the present that he'd forgotten to thank the gifter. Flint leaned back and observed her copper head, her peach-fuzzy cheeks, the warm smile on her red lips. He had come to de pend on her for so much… 'I don't know how to thank you, Perian. This axe is the best present — two presents — '
He laughed '- that I've ever received. You've given me hope for tomorrow.'
Perian blushed. 'I'm just glad you like it, and that it was especially special.' She turned away to pour two luke-warm cups of weed tea.
'I have nothing to give you,' Flint said sadly, then had a thought. 'Wait!' He reached into his tunic and pulled a chain over his head from around his neck.
'I do have something for you — it's not much,' he said, embarrassed. He did not watch Perian's face as he turned his palm over and held his hand out.
'A leaf!' she cried, setting the cups down on the bench.
Perian took the delicate carving, linked to an old, silver chain, and held it in the tips of her fingers, inspecting it, touching it. The spade-shaped wooden leaf was dark stained on the bottom, and polished as smooth as silk. The top had been intricately carved away until the wood was white. Each leaf vein, big and small, had been etched with precision, creating a work of perfection.
Perian looked up at Flint's ruddy face. 'You carved this yourself, didn't youl'
Flint shrugged and wrinkled his big nose. 'It's not one of my better pieces — just something I did long ago that I kept for myself because it reminded me of the mountain forests near Hillhome.'
'I love it!' Perian said. 'Help me?' she asked, holding the necklace up to him.
With frigid, nervous fingers, Flint slipped the chain over her head and watched as she tucked it into her wrap, seeing it rise under the fabric between her breasts.
Flustered, Flint looked away. 'You know, the aspen leaf reminds me of you in a way. Aspen wood is strong, but softer than it looks. Each side of an aspen leaf is a different shade of the same color, like black is to gray, and when the wind catches one, the silver side looks like a shimmering vein in a dwarven mine. It is the most beautiful tree in the
Kharolis, and it is my favorite anywhere.' Flint blushed, re alizing the implication of his words.
The mountain dwarf simply stared at him, opened mouthed. She reached a hand toward him.
'Listen, Perian,' Flint said, his voice breaking. 'I know what I said about a hill dwarf and a mountain dwarf never
… you know — ' Flint gestured vaguely with his hands. 'I still believe that.' He looked at her squarely, seeing the dis appointment in her eyes.
'But neither one of us is much like our clan, and life is too short — ' He gulped at the appropriateness of the phrase to night. 'Life is too short to never take chances. I don't know what will happen tomorrow, or even after tomorrow, but — '
Perian tumbled into his arms and silenced him with two fingers pressed to his hairy lips. 'I don't care about any time but now.'
His heart pounding in his ears, his vision spinning dizzily,
Flint pushed Perian's wrap from her shoulders, and it slipped to the glowing moss. Pulling the beautiful mountain dwarf against his chest, he crushed her moist, parted lips in a kiss that was rooted in his soul.
