“Well, you got eyes like a fucking cat, so I figure you don’t need no light to be spying on a female bathing.”
“I have no interest in spying on that female or any other!” I snarled while waving my bow in the direction of the loud splashes. “I am here to protect her!”
“Pah,youprotecther? That’s rich. I shit out things wider than you!”
“Impossible for your arse is too tightly clenched to shit out anything larger than a pea!”
His mouth fell open. I did not have cat eyes. Yes, I saw well in the dark, but not like a cat. He could, too, if he learned to listen, use his peripheral vision more, and not charge head on like a bull. Those were all things scouts learned early on in our training. There was just enough starlight to see your own shadow even on the darkest of nights.
So I could see his stern face, his blazing eyes, and the opening of his plump lips. For a man with such a distinctive nose, he was…unique. Fierce, scarred, brazen, loud, rude. All things an elf would find unattractive—which I did—but here under the stars, I found myself staring at him while I wondered what it was about his face that made him so…distinctive. Why was his hair and beard so wiry? Did it feel soft or coarse? Would a smile make him less fearsome? Yes, I felt it would. He would be comely if he smiled. No, not comely. Ruggedly handsome. Yes, those were the words I wanted. Asdren would never be called pretty. No, he was too brutish for that, but he would be attractive. Quite attractive if he tamed his beard…
What I did not see until she stepped around the tree was Smuta in all her glory. We both jumped slightly when the nudefemale appeared out of the blue. How had a stout, naked dwarf snuck up on me so easily?
“Would you two take this somewhere else?!” she shouted at us, slippery wet arms crossing under her breasts. I quickly averted my gaze to stare at the stars overhead. “I’m trying to wash the stink of a troll pack and dead bodies off my fucking tuppy! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two was peeking at my paps, but that ain’t the case so whatever it is betwixt you two take on off to some other part of the fucking world so I can wash my arse in private!”
She stalked off, or I assumed it was her, as I was still gazing at the triple southern stars.
“See what you done, Chirp. Now she’s got a burr in her muff, and that’ll be taken out on me,” Asdren barked up at me. I shook off the combination of surprise and whatever bizarre thoughts about this dwarf’s mouth with a huff.
“WhatIdid?” I managed to ask before he thundered off, a cloud of angry dwarven flowing from him. “You are the least stealthy being I have ever encountered, and I have spent time with a herd of bellowing druids singing songs in elk!”
“Fuck you and fuck the elk druids!” he shouted, shoving through a prickly silver berry bush. The shouts of outrage mixed with pain from the thorns as long as my thumb could be heard all the way to the Iron Gate, I was sure. I laughed out loud. He fell back into Dwarvish as he thrashed about and then finally broke free. Chuckling softly to myself, I watched his departure. He possessed a strong gait, much like one of the ponies, short legs but sure feet. His squared, broad shoulders rolled as he walked away. He moved along like a badger, massive attitude atop a powerful stocky but low to the ground body. Yes, he was a badger through and through. I had only tried to converse with one once. She was not interested at all, and I barely escaped with my toes intact. Asdren probably would bite off toes if hecould or at least nip at them or other parts of an elf’s body. A shiver of something hot raced through me, settling low in my belly.
Then someone shoved me hard, a strong hand in the middle of my back, and I stumbled forward, arms circling.
“I ain’t telling you again. Get the fuck out of here and let a lady wash her fucking twat in peace!”
“Sorry, yes, I…I thought to protect your modesty and—” She began laughing. I did not dare to look back at her, for I knew—justknew—she was still nude. “Sorry, I will…I will go back to …to the others. Enjoy your bath.” I ran off, face hot as a griddle, and did not stop until I reached the ponies. The twins tossed me a smile while Asdren sat on a rock, glowering down at a stick he was whittling—or more precisely hacking at—with a small knife. I pushed in amid the small horses. They all turned to nuzzle at me, seeking apples in my pockets, gentle comfort flowing from them to me. And non-druids wondered why I preferred to spend my time with animals. Maybe I should try to extend a hand of friendship to the leader of the Sable Legion. It seemed our squabbles were upsetting the others. Perhaps I would try to be less prickly with Asdren once the fire left my cheeks…
“What the fuck do you mean you’re staging a sit down?” I stared up at Asdren, the others a few steps back, their saddlebags in their hands. “Stand up. We got to start climbing this mountain.”
“No, I will not stand. Newt is still in pain. I felt his anguish all night long. He requires another day of rest for the bruise and swelling on the frog of his hoof to go down more.” I sat cross-legged on the rocky ground with the horse’s reins in my hand. “We will give the horses a rest here. Perhaps at midday hisswelling will be lessened, and we can begin. If not, then it will be on the morn tomorrow. Perhaps you males could take the time to bathe as Smuta and I did?”
Under the cover of the darkest part of the night, I had crept to the trout hole, quickly washed, and was back in camp without any of the dwarves the wiser.
“You’re yanking my curly hairs, right?” Asdren asked, wholly confused, his bright blue eyes locked on me. I shook my head. Newt gave my head a sniff. “Listen, Chirp.” He hunkered down so he was right at my level. The man had great energy, strong, commanding, slightly angry, domineering in a way that made me feel…things. “I get that you and the beasties are chums. That’s all well and good, but it wasyourking that sent us out on this mission to find this missing elf, and we can’t very well do that if you’re sitting here on your scrawny arse. Now, I know the pony has an owie, but we ain’t got time to dither around with our dicks in our hands. So I suggest you wrap up that foot of his, climb on your horse, and follow along, or we will leave your pert blushing arse behind. And I reckon your king and whoever that fucking crow is taking letters to—”
“Raven. Click is a raven. It’s important to name people and creatures properly.”
His bisected brow twitched.
“He’s got a point, Asdren. I got a cousin who used to be known as Morga when they was young, but now they call themselves Pilla and is quite firm on others calling her that. We seen her performing in that cabaret when we was doing a job in Kanazen. No one would ever guess that she got a sausage betwixt her legs,” Narub commented. His twin nodded.
“I found that out the hard way,” Smuta replied as she waited. “Still, we had a good night. Just had to delve into a different cave to find her treasures.”
Asdren growled. The discussion of Pilla, the cabaret performer, stalled out.
“Go cut some wood for the grotto,” Asdren barked over his shoulder. Who left to cut wood or who stayed, I was unsure, for I was unable to look away from Asdren. A squirrel began chirping at us, complaining about our proximity to the tree where he stored his nuts. “Look, Chirp—”
“Beiro. My name is Beiro,” I corrected as I stared into blue eyes as deep as Lake Falomar and just as tumultuous.
“Right, I know that. I just think you sound more like a Chirp.” I scowled. He slapped a strong hand to the back of my neck then drew me in slightly as he leaned forward. His brow touched mine, and his sight remained locked with mine. A long, long moment passed while he searched my expression for something. No clue as to what. His fingers were rough, calloused, and powerful. “This job is a big one for us, and for your king. This ain’t going to help endear you to him, or us, or the kingdom itself if you put things off to play nursemaid to a pony. Now, that being said, I understand you druid types are sensitive.” I rolled my eyes.
“We are empathic is what Beirich and Kenton state.”
His fingers bit into the nape of my neck, just enough to make me return my attention to him. I drew in a breath, suddenly unsettled with his nearness. There was no stench of unwashed man wafting off him. He smelled of pine and smoke as one does when sleeping in the woods. My sight drifted to the hair of his beard, to the silver threads darting through the rich black.
“Hey, boy, I need you to listen to me this once instead of that damn red squirrel.” My sight darted back to his. “Good, now we are going to head up that mountain. Time is money. You’ve heard me say that a few times, yeah?” I nodded, unable not to gape as I floundered in what seemed to be softnesscoming into his expression. The tight hold on the back of my neck gentled, his thumb rubbing over the spot where my pulse thundered in my throat. “I know you got principles, and they’re good ones. I got morals too. Not many, just a few, but I got them.” A twitch of amusement pulled at my lips. He smiled. Sort of. Just a tug at the corner of his mouth, but it did things to him…to me…that I felt down to my toes. “We ain’t got time to dither with a lame horse. King Aelir is anxious to get this elf found, so let’s wrap that hoof good and tight so we can start the climb. We’ll do the best we can for the pony, but we ain’t going to stop moving ahead. We won’t be going as hard or fast, for the sides of the Witherhorns don’t brook racing along the skinny trails cut into her sides.”
