Phen was forced to spend a good part of the morning mapping and notating directions to where Oarly had left the emerald. He decided that the dwarf was impossible. Hopefully the magical jewel would still be there in the mud when he had the chance to go back after it. His mind was alive with other thoughts, though. The idea that they were going to cross all the way out of the Giant Mountains into unknown lands was wildly exciting. Hyden’s letter said that there was something there that would banish the hellspawn forever. That also meant this journey might take a very long time.
According to Phen’s best calculations, based on the various maps he'd studied, it would take them more than three months to cross the mountains. The jagged peaks and bitter cold were inhospitable at best. Not to mention the numerous legendary creatures that supposedly lived in the depths of the range-mammoth shagmars, unfriendly ice dragons, and the mystic and deadly dread wolves were just a few of the monsters they might encounter. Plus there were mountain trolls, orcs, and night stalkers. There were also razor-toothed snow worms, fog wraiths, and all the creatures he had studied under Master Amill and Master Sholt back in Xwarda. There were countless tales of adventurous groups of men, just like their own, that had gone off into the depths of the mountains never to return. These stories had been told over campfires for thousands of years. Even the giants, whose entire kingdom was within the range, didn’t go to some of the deeper places.
By the time Phen had finished making his maps, and collecting his and Hyden’s texts, he had a pile too big for him to carry. He had to find King Mikahl and see if they could take a wagon to Hyden’s village. With cold weather gear, rope, supplies and weapons, and the huge pile of books, they would need twenty pack horses if they couldn’t.
Oarly was coming out of the council chamber as Phen approached. The dwarf put up both hands, palms out in a show of supplication. “I’m sorry about the emerald, lad,” he said gruffly. “I truly am.”
“It’s all right, Oarly.” Phen gave a sincere smile. “It’s just a trinket, in the scheme of things. You’re my friend, and we can find it when we get back from this journey.”
Oarly stood there as if waiting for a “but” or a punchline, but none came.
Oarly felt horrible, even ashamed at his carelessness. “It just goes to show you, lad,” Oarly said with a grave nod, “we dwarves do stupid things when we are sober.”
“Aye,” Phen laughed. “You’ll need a dozen pack horses to carry enough drink to keep you drunk on this trip. We will be in the mountains all winter and then some.”
“I know it, lad,” Oarly grunted. “That’s why I was speaking to the High King. We will need a wagon cart or two to haul our stuff to the clan village.”
Phen smiled. Oarly was on his toes this morning. Either that, or the long run along the castle he’d made fleeing Phen earlier had cleared his head.
“What did he say?” Phen asked.
“Wagons can go all the way up into the foothills.” Oarly grinned. “We can get them as close as a day’s hike. I figured two wagons, and we can leave the escort to watch them while we make a few trips unloading.”
“Aye,” Phen agreed. “Better yet, let the escort do the unloading. I still have to get with Lord Gregory and find out where the village is.”
“You must not have heard.” Oarly was glad to be giving Phen some news that would cheer him. “The Lion Lord is going with us, at least to the Skyler village. Hyden’s folk brought him back from the dead, they say. He wants to thank them and give them gifts and such.”
“That’s eight people,” Phen said, smiling despite his concerns. “Any more men and we might as well armor up and tote a war banner.”
Oarly laughed. “Are you going in?”
At Phen’s nod, the dwarf pushed the door open and followed Marble Boy. Since Lord Gregory was there with the High King, Cresson, and the general, Oarly thought that Phen might be able to work out some more of the details that needed tending before they left.
Mikahl was speaking to Cresson as if he were someone else. Oarly recognized the mage’s blank look. He was in the middle of a sending spell. The idea of the magic made him shiver. After each phrase the High King spoke, Cresson repeated the words as if he were translating. A moment later Cresson would repeat what someone else replied to another mage in some distant place. The whole idea of it was as perplexing as it was disturbing. Oarly supposed that it wasn’t that much different from the resonating stones that dwarves used to communicate underground, but even those were foreign to him. Oarly took a sip of the flask on his hip and then started listening.
“…we welcome General Escott and the added protection the alliance force will give us, Your Highness,” Cresson repeated the words of someone else in a droll monotone. “Though I don’t see Xwarda as susceptible as Sir Hyden Hawk does. Nevertheless, his warnings will not go unheeded. His wisdom cannot be questioned. Our city would have fallen if not for him. All access to the Wardstone is being monitored relentlessly and the ship builders and other tradesmen who require pieces of it are being sifted as well as can be without questioning their honor or offending them.” Cresson paused and looked up at the High King expectantly.
“Tell Queen Willa that the general will be leaving Dreen in a matter of days with his troop. She should expect them in a few weeks. Tell Dugak that Master Oarly will not be able to join the group going underground this winter, he regrets, but duty has called him elsewhere. Assure Dugak and General Diamondeen that he is not on another bender; he is serving the realm.
“I will be departing with Queen Rosa to Westland soon. I want to spend the winter there. I haven’t been home, for any length of time, since my father died. Lord Gregory and Lady Trella will be in charge here, though the Lion Lord is leaving on a short journey on the morrow. I will have Master Sholt cast a sending when we arrive at Lakeside Castle. We miss you, Willa. Tell Starkle and Lady Andra we miss them, too.” Mikahl waited for Cresson to look up and then nodded that he was done speaking.
A few moments passed, then Cresson looked up. “Queen Willa says that she loves you as well,” the mage relayed. “Don’t go too hard on Phen, he’s just a boy. Master Oarly, though, knows better than to abscond without notice. We will prepare for the general’s arrival. If you happen to see King Jarrek, tell him to hurry back to Xwarda, at least for a visit.” Cresson looked up and appeared to be relieved that he had gotten through all of that. “That’s all she said, Highness.”
“I’m sure you’re tired, Cresson,” the High King said. “Queen Willa will go on and on if we let her. You’re excused for now. I will send someone for you, if need arises.”
“Thank you,” Cresson said as he bowed himself out of the room.
“General Escott, you’re excused from council until you’ve returned from Xwarda. I will want weekly reports sent via Master Sholt throughout the winter.”
“And I expect the same through Cresson,” Lord Gregory added.
The general nodded his understanding and followed Cresson out the door.
Once the door was bolted behind them, Lord Gregory laughed. “I still can’t believe I used to think Queen Willa was an old witch.” He shook his head. “It just goes to show how powerful rumors can be in shaping our views of the world.”
Feeling the informal mood take over the room, Phen finally spoke. “The rumor’s power was intensified by the fact that, for a couple of generations, Highwander and Westland had no direct communication.”
“I’m glad your brain wasn’t turned to stone.” Mikahl grinned at Phen. “You’re too fargin smart for us to do without.”
“Aye,” Lord Gregory agreed. “I can see why Hyden likes you so much. It’s his attachment to Master Oarly that I can’t figure out.”
“It’s me ability to adapt to any situation, and the way I can ignore the feeble wit of you Westland folk that he likes,” Oarly shot back with hands on hips.
“Hey,” King Mikahl said to the dwarf, “I’m a Westlander too, ya know.”
“My point exactly,” Oarly deadpanned.
Lord Gregory laughed out heartily.
“How long do you think we will be holed up in Hyden’s village?” asked Phen.
“At least eight weeks,” Mikahl answered. “If it were me, I would stay in one of those rabbit holes until spring.”
