Diaries of a Dwarven Rifleman

More groups arrived and were treated to what was almost certainly the best meal of their lives. At first Squirrel’s crew sat quietly after they finished eating, eyes and hands on the table before them, sometimes shifting uncomfortably on the benches. Deandra realized that they probably were uncomfortable given that they had apparently never used furniture before.

She got up and managed to convey to the crew that they were to follow her and led them over to the great hearth. She squatted by the fire and motioned for them to do the same. This they were comfortable with. After a time all the crews had cycled through the bath-house and Squirrel joined them. He spoke to his crew and they relaxed further, examining her and their surroundings less timidly. They began to talk quietly among themselves, tentatively at first, watching Deandra to see if she raised an objection. Eventually she moved to one of the overstuffed chairs and sat gratefully. Even if they were used to squatting for hours on end, she wasn't, and it had been a very long day.

Squirrel introduced her to his crew. The largest of them, still small by her standards, was called Big Mattock. The others were introduced as Drills Fast, Single Jack and Double Jack, Shovel Toe, One-Hand, Builder, Makes Rope and Cook. Builder, Double Jack and Cook were women. From what Deandra had seen in the bath-house she thought that Double Jack might be with child, and resolved to let Vaalketyr know.

After the last Braell had eaten, blankets were passed out and each crew was shown to a section of the broad benches along the walls to bed down. Deandra returned to her old bed in Ynghilda's apartment and settled in to sleep. Her last thought was a wish that Engvyr was with her…

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“ People talk about how they would love to 'have an adventure.' I think that's largely because they've never had one… Adventures in the doing of them tend to be miserable, dangerous, terrifying and exhausting.”

From the diaries of Engvyr Gunnarson

Twilight found Taarven and Engvyr working their way through the brush at the western edge of the valley. They were careful not to make any disturbance as they moved along; 'virtually blind' was not the same thing as 'blind' and movement draws the eye. They neared the mouth of the canyon as the first stars were twinkling in the night sky.

Taarven craned his neck to look upward and then said quietly, “I think we're ok for the moment. I'm pretty sure that we're inside his blind spot.”

The rangers stole into the canyon. A road ran alongside the stream that fed the small lake. The very edge of this road next to the canyon wall had some brush and tumbled rocks but no real cover. It was dark as a pit as they moved slowly pausing frequently to listen, though the sound of the tumbling water interfered with this. Before long they came to a place where the path ended and a bridge arched over the water.

“I am not liking this. Not at all!” Taarven said quietly. Engvyr knew exactly what he meant; between the darkness and the noise of the stream they could have walked within an arms-length of a crouching enemy and not realized it.

They low-crawled across the bridge next to the low railing. Once across they resumed their slow, careful way up the canyon. They had gone only a few hundred paces when they saw light flickering on the walls ahead.

Engvyr cursed silently at his first thought, that some person or group was approaching with a torch. They froze in place but the light did not move towards them. After a time they approached a slight bend in the canyon and crept forward until the source of the light became apparent. There were torches in vertical holders along the road, spaced every twenty-five to thirty paces leading to a stone wall that blocked further progress. The stream ran under the wall through a culvert with a barred cover and the road passed through a gate- currently closed. There were more torches along the top of the wall and they could see the figures of sentries patrolling there.

“Looks like we've reached a dead end,” Taarven said quietly.

“I've never liked that term… dead end,” muttered Engvyr. They watched quietly for a few moments before working their way backwards from the curve until the gates were out of site.

“Best we get ourselves out of this canyon before that term you dislike becomes literal,” Taarven said, “We get caught in this canyon come daylight there's nowhere to hide.”

They made their way back across the bridge but before they got halfway back to the entrance they saw light ahead of them again. This time obviously someone was coming. They scrambled back up the canyon looking desperately for a place to hide but there was nothing. Until they reached the bridge…