Page 156 of Silverbow
Enya gazed at the sleepy seaside village that hugged the rocky coast ahead, shouts carrying out over the water from the docks. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re dragons, Liam.”
The scrape and thud of the fender along the dock cut off any further conversation. Liam gaped at his first sighting of the dwarves of Tuminzar. A small party of them stood at the end of the dock, all wild tangles of hair and beards. Theywore richly embroidered coats to their knees and high leather boots. Oryn raised a hand in greeting and one of them bounded forward excitedly.
“Your Grace,” he rumbled, trotting along the dock on stubby legs. Liam’s head whipped around the same way the sailors’ did. Oryn wore an unreadable look at the address, but Liam thought he might be suppressing a frown as the dwarf bowed at the waist. “Your Grace, we weren’t expecting you.”
“It was an unexpected voyage, Master Graniteforge,” he answered placidly, ignoring the gaping captain and crew.
Liam looked a question at Enya and her own lack of surprise told him there was more she was bloody keeping from him. “Later,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on the dwarves.
“What are you bloody staring at?” Bade barked. “Somebody get the bloody plank!” Sailors leapt as if switched and scurried to do as the demi-elf ordered.
“I’ve brought two who seek the gift of hospitality,” Oryn called.
Master Graniteforge bowed his head and waved his hand. “It will be granted, of course, Your Grace.”
Oryn nodded his thanks and started toward the gangplank. He jerked his chin toward Enya and she wordlessly left Liam’s side. He watched her glide toward the dock, Oryn clutching her uninjured arm as if the Saulet Sea might leap to swallow her up. It bloody well might, if the mist was any indication.
“Always left with the bloody bags,” Aiden muttered. Liam jumped, not having heard his approach as he watched the royalty follow Master Graniteforge up the dock with no small amount of envy. “A little help, stable boy?”
The horses were fresh after more than a week of being cooped up on the deck. Even quiet Lanta and stoic Kiawa made a fuss of disembarking to disgruntled mutters from the sailors. Liam found himself leading Pips and Arawelo up the dock, trailing behind Aiden.
He looked askance at the hand a waiting dwarf extended to him. He wasn’t bloody royalty. He could manage a dock. He took another step, the step that would lead him from the wood planks to the cobblestone of the street and smacked into something as solid as a wall. He staggered back a step, the horses jerking on the reins in his hand.
“What the-”
“My lord,” the dwarf muttered, scurrying forward. “The ward.”
“Sorry about that!” Aiden shot back over his shoulder with a grin that indicated exactly how sorry he was.
Liam put a hand out and pushed forward. It met what indeed felt like an impenetrable wall. He whipped his head around. There was nothing there. The dwarf reached through it, unaffected. He snatched his wrist and gave him a tug. Liam muttered a curse as he stepped through what felt like a cool sheet of water and emerged dry on the other side, blinking down at the dwarf with a tangle of red beard.
“What is that?” He gasped.
“The ward, my lord.”
“Just a little something to keep out the riffraff,” Aiden called.
“Welcome to Tuminzar, my lord.”
“I’m not a bloody lord,” Liam muttered.
“Out of the way, stable boy,” Bade growled behind him.
Liam sighed and clucked the horses on to follow Aiden up the street. Perhaps ‘lord’ was better than ‘stable boy’.
The neat stone houses of Wayforge belched smoke into the sky from their chimneys despite the warmth that clung to the coast. Shaggy little ponies tugged carts to and from the docks and dwarven children stopped their playing in the street to call out to Oryn and his companions. More curious faces peered from doors and windows, and soon the streets were lined with folk cheering and shouting their greetings.
“Brother!”
“Elred’s Eagle!”
“Prince Oryn!”
“Earth wielder!”
