Page 30 of The Oracle's Journey

Dulhal was a little out of the way of Bergellon, but I knew it would have everything we needed. The men from my former crew used to go there periodically for supplies. The town was built by men and dwarves, so they had exceptional craftsmen, merchants, good food, and hospitality. Probably excellent hospitality judging by the look of things. Everything was clean and lovingly maintained. The buildings along the main cobbled street had a blend of human and dwarven sensibilities giving an overall feel of stability and comfort. Our appearance in a once splendid carriage bouncing roughly over the cobblestones was a sad contrast. It jounced and wobbled, making a terrible racket because it also carried a load of loose swords and other metal we’d collected from camp.

The townspeople watched us warily. Lobikno and I were used to such looks and probably received the worst of it. Ozanna smiled back when she met their glances, as though she hoped to disarm their suspicions. I simply ignored them.

“When we get to the inn,” I told her, “I think you should do the talking. Let Lobikno and me appear to be your hired hands.” I tried to say it casually, but my apprehension bled through. Oz frowned at me. “Dark elves are a matriarchal society,” I explained. “The dwarves might be a little more at ease seeing the pair of us led by a surface-dwelling woman.”

Oz’s expression softened to a sad grimace, but she nodded in understanding.

When we arrived outside the inn, she gave me a reassuring smile before dismounting. She secured two rooms, which was all they had available. I’d hoped to get a room we could share, but Judith insisted on separating by gender. So Lobikno and I unloaded all the personal belongings in accordance with the matrons wishes.

Ozanna must have noticed my ongoing disappointment when she met me back downstairs. “Judith and I still have a job to do,” she said, being the practical sort.

“It pains me to have access to a bed but not have you in it,” I replied. I knew I should just be grateful to sleep in a bed after years of cots and bedrolls in the warband, but my feelings about not having her there with me were no less true.

Wrapping her arms around my waist, she leaned in to give me a kiss. “It pains me as well, but we will have time for that eventually. You can cuddle with Lobikno for one night.” She gave me an impish smile and kissed me on the nose.

It. Was. Adorable.

"Do that again, please?” I begged and she actually humored me. My heart felt so light it might have floated out of my chest.

Then Judith appeared at my elbow. She sighed and rolled her eyes at us. “We have far too much to do for you two to stand here acting like lovestruck children.” She drove us out of the inn ahead of her with arms held wide.

She was correct, unfortunately. Lobikno volunteered to watch over Eve and the princess. Judith was to take all our clothes to the laundress to see if they could rush the process. If not, she had funds to pick up some basic pieces.

“Don’t forget to buy underwear,” Oz reminded her before we went our separate ways.

While I was off selling the extra horses, weapons, and metal to the local smiths, Oz would go shop for consumable supplies. We could get it done and hopefully find time to see if there was a local mage or enchanter to ask about our magic hair.

Ozanna

After paying to have food delivered to Lobikno at the inn, I made a point to stop at the local apothecary. I hadn’t anticipated needing contraception when leaving Cudcona, but I’d already been foolish enough to let desire run its course once without it. The apothecary had the herbs I needed in ample stock. I also picked up some salve since we’d depleted Lhoris’ supply. It didn’t have any magic in it, but it was better than nothing.

Since I didn’t need to delve into my own purse for the bulk of my errands, I decided to peruse the vendor carts that lined one side of the cobbled street. With so much to see, I had to remember that I was on a time crunch. Otherwise, I would have stopped to take in all the sounds, colors, and scents. Food vendors were the most tempting with their baked goods, candy, and fresh produce. One dwarven woman had a small stove worked into a cart to prepare hot sandwiches and meat pies. My mouth watered and stomach gurgled upon smelling the sizzling meat, so I stopped and bought lunch for myself. A busker played his squeeze box while I sat at a small, nearby table and ate. I dropped a copper in the hat at his feet before moving on.

I admired leather goods, silk accessories, jewelry, but found myself standing at a cart with silver and bronze dwarven trinkets thinking about Doramdir. My heart ached a little. I shouldn’t feel guilty for what I’d started with Lhoris, but part of me felt like I was betraying my dwarf. Doramdir never made any commitment to me, but I’d considered what the future could be like with him: children, home, a real family. I wondered if he had ever thought those things about me.

The older dwarven man running the cart peered at me from his stool. “My dear girl, if these items are truly as sad as you seem to think they are, I will park my cart the other way around tomorrow.” I could barely see his smile for the thick, wild beard and mustache that seemed to cover him from head to toe. Dwarves were typically meticulous when it came to care of their facial hair, even the women. It gave me the impression that he was slightly wild or eccentric.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I gestured to his wares. “These are lovely. They just remind me of someone that I worry about.”

“Ah,” he said, with an understanding nod. “Well, maybe the things on the other side of my cart would bring you more cheer. Come on.” The dwarf rose and kicked the bottom of the stool with the heel of his broad boot. The stool folded flat, into the side of the cart. I couldn’t even see an outline for where it rested in the wooden boards. I followed him to see what else he had.

“These aren’t as popular with the tourists, so I keep them on this side,” he said looking me up and down. “But you don’t look like a tourist.”

The other side of his cart was full of dinnerware, intricately decorated silver goblets and cups, matching plates and serving dishes. The teapots and teacups were a rather surprising choice. He even had an assortment of flasks. All the items came in several different patterns in a dwarven style, and they were all just breathtaking.

I glanced over the flasks. Lhoris did say his flask hadn’t survived the kerfluffle. Would it be too forward to buy him a gift?

“Is there one meant specifically for brandy?” I asked. I knew there were specific types of glasses for different drinks, or so the lords and ladies I’d worked for in the past told me, but I wasn’t sure about flasks.

“Is it for your young man?” the dwarf asked with a knowing little grin.

“Yes,” I answered with a sheepish smile, “but he’s an elf, not a man.”

His eyes narrowed in contemplation, “Hmmm. Elves can be particular. So, something not too dwarven.” He looked over the shelves of his display and reached for a bright silver flask with a motif of delicate scrolling leaves and handed it to me for inspection.

“It’s beautiful,” I said in open admiration.

“Thank you,” he said. “I was trying to step out of my typical style when I made that one.”

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