BBook 2: Chapter 33: Wrath III.

BBook 2: Chapter 33: Wrath III.

Velton and I lingered as the camp roused around us, barely-armored forms snatching up weapons and heading toward the source of the explosion. While not completely certain, there lay a suspicion in me that I knew what had just happened. Still, I needed not rush with the tide of humans and be mistaken for the danger in their midst. That would come soon enough.

So, a quick teleport, mayhaps?

The elf frowned at my suggestion, lips pinched in annoyance.

While I appreciate the sentiment and implication that I am a bottomless well of power, reality is often disappointing. Low as I already am today, I would rather not waste my talents on this. The dwarves obviously ripped open the dirt. Are we really required to be the first there to gawk at it?

We were not. Yet I had better thing to do than stand here and await the humans inevitable return. It took me but a few moments to snatch a mercenary from the ground as he hurried past and extract the information I required.

We moved parallel to the tide of soldiers that trooped towards the front walls, cutting between tents and across formerly occupied spaces to reach my destination. A large white tent that I recognized as being formerly occupied by the royal alchemist from Hullbretch was where I aimed to go.

Several polite knocks on the post revealed nothing, and a quick peak inside found neatly arranged, utilitarian quarters. No sign of my friend. It should not have surprised me that Raffnyk would refuse to sulk about in his tent and instead be with the men and men he formerly commanded, yet it did. I stood for a moment and recalled that the man had never so much as wavered in the face of duty, and felt a fool for thinking he would now.

A sigh rumbled its way from my throat as I gazed upon the soon-to-be-packed walls and ramparts, knowing that would be where I needed to go to find him. Fortunately, my long strides, air of gentle authority and the ability to pick up humans with a single hand proved to make that easy for me.

I did find Raffnyk, eventually. Sullen, awkwardly standing just outside of the new commanders guard, but on-duty nonetheless.

I know why they have come, Alesha. The knight insisted again, exasperation reigned tight in his tone but betrayed by his scent.

You guess. She snapped back. Guess are not good enough when our necks sit on the line.

Tensions flared and tempers were tight here. Both from outside influence and pre-existing drama I was unaware of, if I had to guess. These two were not on the best of terms, and it showed to all but the most oblivious of observers.

And what other conclusion have you come to? Raffnyk spoke past the guards that surrounded the woman, frustration leaking into his tone. Why else would a legion of dwarves just appear on our doorstep?

Perhaps if I had competent scouts, we would not be surprised by this. She shot back.

You agreed to let the soldiers have a day off in celebration of the news, did you not? Raffnyks usually polite facade frayed then, iron in his tone. I remain blameless for the consequences of your decisions, Lord-Commander.

She did obviously not think so.

If it would behoove everyone, stow this topic for a later time and focus on the tide of axe-bearers on your doorstep. Velton interjected before the conversation devolved any further. Still, those few words helped me glean why the camp had been taken by surprise and further uncovered the bad blood between these two. I watched columns of armored dwarves march past underneath the walls, moving to block off the road leading the the mountains summit and the fort that resided there.

An effort that went uncontested. Bickering aside, this new commander was smart enough to let the dwarves march uncontested.

I will say it again; Open your gates, answer their questions and do not impede them. No less, no more. If you wish to bring war to this already-troubled land, I will remove you myself.

This was not the first time I had heard the elf utter a threat, and it still chilled me inside.

There was a short outburst that followed those spoken words. That too was quelled when she realized how deathly serious the elf was.

These were not my people, not really my problem. Yet I did not subscribe to that philosophy. I had already saved them twice, and now I looked out for them a third time as the steel host drew near. Again, it galled me to see how easily these short, bearded dwarves walked over everyone. At most, they were a third of my height, yet everyone made way and obeyed their wishes.

Was I really equating height to influence? This I found myself wondering as I watched the columns enter through the front gate. What was it about these beings that stirred hate inside me whenever I saw them? The old Garek had never encountered a dwarf in his life and had never given two damns about their underground empire.

But seeing how everyone obeyed them without protest -at least to their faces- made me feel a hatred I had not experienced before. Simply because I had been forced to roll over and obey their whims did not mean I was content to do so, nor would forgive their intrusions. Still, what could I realistically do?

Naught but stand here and watch as the process was repeated for these people.

To some inestimably small credit, they did not abuse their power. No one was shoved around, kicked down and treated roughly. They were split into groups, and then, one by one, the entire camp was brought before the Ironbeard Oracle and questioned. The beings aura of truth sped things along much faster than I would have expected, cutting through clever wording and otherwise useless maneuvering that might have obfuscated his search for the truth.

Myself and Velton were ignored, left to stand on the walls and watch as most of the camp repeated the same version of that day. Most barely remembered it, some sighted the dwarf from a distance, very few actually met and conversed with him.

Slowly, methodically, the Oracle went through the entire camp. Mercenaries, soldiers, cooks, servants. All were prodded forward and put to the questions. The stablehands were questioned longest of all, for they had seen the dwarf steal a horse and gallop away. The theft itself did little to concern the Oracle, but rather the direction he rode seemed to matter most.

It was only when someone prattled on how they dwarf has been preparing gear in case they ran into the Apex did the conversation halt. My blood cooled and stomach grew upset as questions now became focused on the beastss whereabouts. Through luck or Lerishss sheer discretion was it brought forth that not a single monster hunter had actually seen the beast.

Veltons hand clamped down on my shoulder as I twitched and the elfs icy cold words whispered into my ears.

Stand still. Do not attempt anything unwise. Lerish hid her tracks so well that even Tehalis could not piece together who she was. These dwarves wont either.

We watched as the entire camp was resummoned for another round of questions, this time focused on the Apex and any information about it.

The dwarves had put together two and two and were coming up remarkably close to four. Questions now included any knowledge of how long the apex had been in the area, when word of it first came to light, if any of the locals had ever seen it.

It was only once a vague description of Lerishs transformed form came to light did my hopes truly plummet. The description was largely wrong, embellished in parts and flat-out wrong in others, but it had the pieces that mattered. The parts that hinted at something draconic.

No one could confirm it, but the dwarves seemed not to care. Instead, orders were given and the troop formed once more. Columns marched away as fast as they had come. This time, they did not turn and head back to camp. Instead, lone dwarves carried orders as the host turned and began to head further up the mountain.

They only suspect. Velton muttered to himself. And for a dwarf, that is enough.