Whill laughed as he began to wash. The water basin had been filled with fresh hot water, probably at Abram’s command. Clean and clothed, he went downstairs and found Abram sitting at a small table in the main room, a steaming cup of coffee and long scroll in hand.
“Ah, so the great fighter awakes,” Abram said as Whill took the seat opposite. “I’ve ordered eggs, bacon, and toast. Two orders each, which is not quite enough if you are as hungry as I.”
“Good, I’m starved.”
A startlingly beautiful young woman about Whill’s age walked up to the table. “Will you be wanting coffee also?” she asked him.
“Yes, I would, if you would be so kind, with six lumps of sugar.”
“
He smiled. “That I do, though I would be ill-fated to try to find anything as sweet as you.”
The waitress blushed and gave Whill a coy smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Abram grinned. “You didn’t learn that one from me. I’m impressed.”
“What?” Whill feigned ignorance. “The truth rolls from the tongue easier than anything rehearsed.”
“That it does, my friend that it does.”
The waitress soon returned with Whill’s coffee, which was in a larger glass than Abram’s and topped with a thick coat of frothy cream.
“Thank you very much.”
“If you need anything else, please don’t be afraid to ask.”
Soon the large plates of food arrived, and Whill and Abram dug in with a hunger they usually only knew on the road. After finishing, Abram ordered another coffee for each of them and lit his pipe. Whill also cleaned his plate and sat back feeling very content.
Abram blew large smoke-rings into the air and watched them rise and linger. They sat for a moment in silence. More coffee came shortly and they again thanked the waitress. Whill watched Abram’s smoke-rings hang high above them, as still as stone.
“You know,” said Whill, “we could buy a nice ship with that gold I won.”
Abram laughed. “With that much gold you could buy a whole fleet. But a ship would be a very good investment.”
Whill thought for a moment. “You said we would be here for a while. Do you think it will be long enough to have a ship built?”
Abram raised his eyebrows. “I suppose we could. I do know an excellent shipbuilder-if he’s still alive, that is. I haven’t seen him since last we were here, and he was an old man then.”
“We should go and see him today. I’ve been tossing a ship design around in my head for years-just a daydream, really, but now it seems we can have it made.” Said Whill as his excitement grew.
Abram nodded as he sipped his coffee. “I had planned to buy a small boat, but now that you have won this grand prize, perhaps we won’t have to. I have to take you somewhere so that I may finally tell you all you wish and deserve to know. But it is far from here, and by sea we will get there much more easily. Dy’Kore,” he said, before Whill could ask. “The dwarf city in the Ky’Dren Mountains.”
Whill regarded him with utter astonishment. “We are going to the dwarf city?”
“Long ago I fought alongside the dwarf king Ky’Ell against the Draggard. He has since been a good friend. These long years since your birth, he has kept heirlooms of yours safe. Within the mountains lies your past, and there your story should be told to you.”
Whill had read about and heard many stories of the dwarves. They were a race who kept to themselves mostly and were not seen often beyond the mountains. They were made up of three clans, the Ky’Dren, the Elgar, and the Ro’Sar. The mountains they inhabited had been named after the dwarf kings who had first settled them. The Ky’Dren dwarves were allies to Eldalon and watched over the Ky’Dren Pass, the only land route into the kingdom of Eldalon. In return the king supplied the dwarves with a means to transport and trade their gold and jewels, as well as safe passage by ship to visit their kin, the Elgar. The Ro’Sar, who had lived within what were now called the Ebony Mountains, was all but wiped out. A great host of Draggard had come by sea five years before and invaded the Ro’Sar city of Del’Aris. All but a handful of the Ro’Sar had survived by fleeing to Dy’Kore.
“Then it’s settled,” Whill said. “We’ll build a ship and sail to the mountains, and finally I will know my past.”
They finished their coffee and ventured out into the street. It was high noon and the day was mild. The outer walls of the city gave good protection from the wind. The streets were littered with paper confetti and bits and pieces of pop balls. Already people were cleaning up, and it appeared that not only hired cleaners but also many citizens lent a hand. As Abram had expected, the young man from the previous night was waiting by the door with an expectant smile. Abram threw him a coin and told him their destination.
They again traveled towards the center of the city and soon stopped before a large, three-story building. It was made of exquisitely crafted stone that had a shiny gloss. It boasted four large pillars, each of which was decorated with Fendale’s emblem. A large set of marble steps led up to the main door. Upon the very top of the building, stone letters as tall as a man declared “Bank of Fendale.” Whill noticed that archers were positioned every ten feet along the top of the building. There were also four armed guards at the base of the stair.
“This is where your gold is being kept. I assumed that you would want to make a withdrawal.”
“You assumed correctly. You’ve paid my way long enough. It’s high time I treated you for once.”
Abram laughed as they climbed the marble steps to the front door. An armed guard stood at each side.
“What is your business, good sir?” the guard on the right asked Abram.
“We are here to make a withdrawal,” Whill said.
“What are your names, please?”
“I am Whill, and this is Abram.”
The guard gave Whill a queer look. “You’re the one who beat Rhunis?”
“This would be he, good sir,” said Abram. “And if you don’t mind, we have pressing business that must be attended to. Unless you want an autograph from the young lad, that is.”
The guard looked embarrassed. He put on a serious face again. Leave your weapons at the check-in or you won’t be permitted inside.”
With that he turned and together he and the other guard opened the great doors for them. Whill and Abram entered a small room with bare walls. Another great door lay directly in front of them. To the right there was a guard behind a three-foot-square opening to another room, the weapons storage room. He told them to sign in on a scroll and gave them a quill.
“All weapons must be surrendered here,” he declared in a flat voice.
They complied and handed over their swords and knives. Satisfied, the guard went to a small slit in the wall and said, “Ocean blue.”
The door opened and they went into the main lobby of the bank. It was a large room that led to many doors. At the other end of the room was a large oak desk. A short little man with large glasses hurried towards them. With an exaggerated hello and handshake he led Whill and Abram to the vault where the gold was kept. Once inside, Whill saw the twenty sacks of gold upon a large wooden table covered with a red velvet cloth. He opened one of the bags and let the coins fall out onto the table with a heavy clang. Abram took a coin and tested it with his teeth, then eyed it in the torchlight. The light reflected on the surface was deep orange. The emblem of Eldalon was stamped on both sides.
“I’ll be taking a half a bag of gold today,” Whill told the little banker.
“Of course, sir, and it will be our pleasure to hold the rest for as long as you want, at one percent interest, of course.”
Abram scowled at the little man. “In that case we won’t be keeping it here long.” He grumbled and left the vault, mumbling something about damned vultures.
After retrieving their weapons and leaving the building, they headed to the shipbuilder’s place. It was a nicely built and decorated home near the city’s ocean side. This time Whill tipped the wagon boy himself, throwing him a gold coin from his bag. The kid looked at the gold in his hand, astonished. Abram laughed. “You do know how much that’s worth?”
“A wise man once told me there is no point in having wealth if you cannot use it to spread joy.”
