“He is imposing,” I softly replied.
“Aye,” Asdren answered, then we turned to the woman shown across from the Stonefather. “This is the Hearthmother. Keeper of the flame, mother of warmth and family. You’ll see her sigil of a hearth flame enlaced by a rock circle on every dwarven hearth.”
I studied the carving on the plinth and then the lady’s face. A proud dwarven female indeed but with kind eyes. We stepped forward, our traveling companions long gone. “This male is the Ironmantle, warden of oaths and lord of all gems. He’s the one who keeps us true to any vow made, for iron remembers the promise.”
We turned to gaze on another dwarven female, the same one who had been crafted into the Iron Gates.
“I know this one. She was on the gates.”
Asdren smiled up at me. I nearly smiled back then recalled I was angry, so I pressed my lips tight.
“Aye, good recollection, Chirp. She shows the vein to those with patient hands.”
We took a moment at her feet before being carried along by the crush of dwarves with goods flowing into Grommveldir. Once cleared of the hall of giant dwarves, which seemed a contradiction, we moved through a narrower tunnel lit with glowing red runes worked into the stone. Stepping out with the sounds of livestock in my head—goats were particularly talkative—we emerged onto a platform of solid rock, which began to gently spiral downward. The walkway was smooth, smoky stone with heavy rock banisters. I moved to the edge, placing my hands on the rail to look down. The spiraling walkway went down into the very earth, it seemed. The smells here shifted with hot blasts from below, carrying the strong odor of rotted eggs mingled with burnt rock.
“Come away from the edge lest you tumble over it like you did the path coming up,” Asdren called as I stared downward in awe. “You go arse over tits over that, you’ll bugger up more than your shoulder.” I spun from the railing to glare at him. He gave me a firm look. “Do as you’re told.”
“Perhaps I should make you come get me,Dwarf,” I flung back, my patience with acting his plaything already shredded. My head ached, my shoulder pulsed, and my stomach was tender from vomiting.
That made him chuckle. Several passing dwarves paused as the bickering between us broke out, anxious to see what took place next. Most seemed amused as if they were watching a parent chastise a child. Which I mayhap sounded like now that I thought on it.
“Perhaps you should, but if you did, I’d have to paddle your bony arse for not listening to your patron,Elf.”
He gave me a long look which set my toes to tingling as if he were contemplating spanking me. My reaction was strong and confusing. My grandma had spanked me numerous times as a boy, and I had not enjoyed it. This warm flush now made my cock stiffen, and my cheeks flare hotter than the sultry air, which led me to think I might not object to his big, calloused hand settling on my bare arse with a sound crack.
Feeling the curious eyes on me, I relented. We had roles to play here, if only for a brief moment or two. I stalked over to him.
“Now that’s a good lad. Follow me, don’t touch anything and don’t engage with the merchants. They’ll have your coins in their hands faster than you can nock an arrow.”
“I am not a total dullard,” I growled as we stepped back into the ebb and flow heading downward.
“Never said you was. I was just warning you to not try to talk down a dwarf. You’d sooner talk down a stone troll from bashing your brains in.” He padded along as I stewed, my sight darting to a plethora of stalls and shops as we walked down the spiral path. I had never seen such an array of weaponry and armor. Stalls filled with gem cutters, stonemasons, glassblowers, and runesmiths lined each side of the busy path. Jewelers shouted at passersby to come see their precious stones and jewelry. Bright gemstones set in buttery gold glittered in the smoky torchlight. I spied a small dwarven woman selling cuffs and earrings. A bright green earring caught my eye. It touched off a memory of my grandmother. Odd to have a recollection of her come to life now, here, at this moment in time. I had not seen her for several seasons. Perhaps when this quest was done I should visit her. I began to move toward the stall, but a strong hand clamped around my wrist. “Not here to shop, Chirp.”
“That green stone. What is it?” I enquired, walking on but gawking over my shoulder, through my bow, at the stall with the enchanting earrings.
“They call it forest garnet. Pretty common in the western mines.”
“It reminds me of my grandmother’s eyes,” I softly said as we moved out of view of the stall.
“Ah, yeah, it does glow just like your eyes, Chirp.” I glanced down to see him studying me in that odd way of his. “Come along. We need to keep moving. You look ready to drop, and the sooner I get off the thoroughfare, the better.”
We walked in silence then, Asdren chugging along at top dwarf walking speed, me at his side, my longer stride keeping us even. We came across more shops and stalls. Breweries galore, fungus stalls selling mundane mushrooms all the way to fungus glowing from within. Meat stalls popped up, plucked ducks and chickens hanging on hooks beside ropes of sausages as stout women in white aprons cooked meat chunks on skewers over small braziers to sell. I did my best not to look too appalled.
Another stall held small cages of birds, mostly safflower finches, being sold in wicker cages to grimy-looking miners. The birds were scared, unsure of where the sky had gone.
“Best not let the mine birds talk to you. They ain’t got nothing but sad songs to sing,” Asdren told me. I longed to go run over and throw the cage doors open. Sadly, I dared not, for they served a larger purpose for the workers who toiled so far underground. “Come along, Beiro.”
He touched my hand gently. I trudged after him, the long, painful day catching up to me. My entire body hurt, my head and shoulder worst of all.
Outfitters with lanterns, ropes, and mining equipment. Herbalists. A bookseller with two stalls filled with tomes of all sizes and widths appeared last. This stall was the most popular,it seemed, as two dozen dwarves perused the maps, writing instruments, and stacks of books.
“We’re a literate people,” Asdren explained while we wiggled through the lines of small folk with arms laden with books. “Most of us never leave here, other than the merchants and the unwanted, so them who stay need entertainment. You like to read?”
“I…uhm, no, not really.” He threw a curious look over his shoulder as we passed a small band of jugglers performing for coins. “My head confuses the letters.”
“Ah, that explains the troubles you had earlier. Hmm, shame. I like me a nice pipe with a good book in the evening.” He hurried on as we moved deeper, the temperature climbing upward as we went downward. I removed my coat as my back was now wet with sweat. A small stone arch with a gilded gold gate appeared on our left, guarded by two males in fine silver armor. “Now that there, behind the arch, is the miner’s mile. The richest and most powerful mining clans call that section of the city home. The queen’s residence is in there as well.” He gave the arch a sniff as if it smelled and walked on with his shoulders tightly set.
We soon came to an area packed with pubs and inns. Music could be heard flowing from the dozens of taverns. The heat down here was high enough to make me wish I were in short pants. Plus, there was a fine coating of rock dust that lingered in the air, coating all exposed skin. It was gritty on the tongue. Surely not healthy to breathe in season after season. I missed the forests of the wood elves. Clean air, bright skies, the song of a crested whippoorwill. There was no bird life down here other than the little yellow finches the miners took with them into the digs.
