The Dragonskin Chronicles Bk. 02

The Army had marched for nearly a week, mostly through small Dwarf villages and gentle fertile hills and occasional mine workings, mostly easy marching on level or lightly undulating ground with grassy verges or firm stone paths. During the march they swelled the ranks of the Army as they passed through, recruiting mostly older veterans who had tired of civilian life and were excited by visions of one final memorable adventure. That this was no campaign for the inexperienced and untried and tested, appealed even more to veterans who felt they still had something to contribute to their old comrades and the pride of the Dwarf nation. These were easily absorbed into their old or similar units.

Camp sites had been comfortable to this point, with soft ground to lie on and ready supplies of fresh water and woodland for collecting firewood or gathering any uncut furze. Fresh meat and root vegetables and herbs were readily bought from or even donated by the farms they passed, bread readily available from bakeries along the way, so meals were nutritious and interesting.

Now they were into the foothills of the mountains, the border lands between the Dwarves and the Goblin tribal holdings, where the roads were poorly maintained as little trade came this way between the two traditional enemies. There were few farms on the rocky soil and the cooks had to dip into the barrels of salted and dried meats they brought with them, and use some of the large cords of firewood that had been gathered in surplus over the last few nights. Here at least there was still plenty of fresh spring water to be had readily available. Soon, Korwyn knew, that the decision to start filling the empty water barrels they carried in the carts would have to be made to keep them watered when they reached the desert on the far side of the mountains.

Prior to the commencement of their journey, Korwyn and Zyndyr had sat down with the more extensively travelled Men and Dwarves in the Army to work out their best route to the Kingdom of Man. They had devised not quite the most direct route, but one that would minimise conflict with their neighbours and avoid deep river crossings and the highest mountain passes where they possibly could.

Korwyn had travelled to the Seven Kingdoms from a different route to the most direct one, mostly along the coast, so he was familiar with only half of the road they finally agreed on. Zyndyr was familiar with two thirds of the road as much of the woodland and forest along the way had once been part of the Elvish Realm, but owned up that since this land had been ceded to the Goblins and Trolls that much may have changed since she last passed that way.

The various versions of maps the Army made were probably the first ones ever drawn up to cover this route and there were much crossings out and revisions made as some sort of consensus emerged. They had even expanded the map sideways to provide diversions and alternatives should there be any difficulties along the way.

Montoule, a tall thin man with a black beard that revealed a bare scar from his chin to his right ear, showed he'd had experience in and survived at least one battle. On the training ground he displayed much prowess with both sword and lance. He declared to Korwyn and Zyndyr that he had travelled as a merk through much of this land and that he had deeper knowledge than most, he boasted, of the road and its inns and his experience was much more recent than Zyndyr's.

Zyndyr took an instant dislike to the man and avoided him, saying as much in private to Korwyn. Her lover was largely in agreement with her, he got the impression that Montoule was untrustworthy and probably an ambushing robber, smuggler or worse, but his knowledge of the lie of the land, particularly where parts of it could be verified by others, appeared sound, so Korwyn alone did consult him about what he thought might lay ahead of the Army.

Korwyn reached the top of the escarpment and could survey all the lands ahead of them up to the distant grey mountains, which were shrouded in mist to the west.

"There is a wide river at the bottom of this valley, swift and wide but fairly shallow, my Lord," Montoule stated, pointing with a finger on his outstretched hand, "one that the Dwarfs can easily ford, even with their short legs, especially if we string a rope across for safety."

Behind him, the Dwarf Captain, mounted on his sturdy pony, snorted and cleared his throat but clearly did not want to open his mouth to betray his evident disgust born from more than this single demonstration of this Man's general disrespect for the Dwarf race.

Montoule ignored him and carried on, "We should reach the river by nightfall today, but by then it may be too dark to cross safely until the morrow. The terrain is rocky but we can camp there for the night. On the other side is the land of the Goblins but they rarely venture this side of those mountains. Recently, the Goblins have been at peace with the Dwarfs but seeing this many Dwarfs approach might frightened 'em or they might take offence and attack us without warning, thinking we be an invasion force."

"Queen Myr has sent a delegation to the Goblin King and several Goblin warlords strung out along this road, entreating them to let us pass through unmolested, Montoule, so you do not have to worry on that score."

"Very well my Lord, I will scout ahead as far as the river and await ye there." Montoule kicked his mount and rode off over the crest and followed the road as it wound like a drunkard down the hill to the bottom of the river valley.

"I cannot stand that man, Montoule, Sire," Dwarf Captain Difaniel of the Skirmisher Scouts said, as he let the breath he had been holding out in a cloud of steam in the cold air.

"I know," Korwyn agreed with a nod, but lightly, with a laugh, "even though we are both of the Race of Man, I cannot warm to him. I cannot bring myself to trust him, but on matters of the lie of the land, his knowledge has been useful."

"Unless he betrays us, my Lord," the Dwarf Captain insisted quietly.

"Aye, and we will have to be alert in future as we leave the Seven Kingdoms."

"Aye, my Lord, I am sure that we'll find danger at every turn, but that is why we's come on this adventure with ye. Glory comes at a price. But I'll be just behind that rogue most o' the time and I'll keep one eye on him and a hand on my sword."

"And have one of your dwarves keep one eye on your back, Captain... I cannot see into the future like your old Queen Grand Mother, but I can't help this feeling I have in my gut about that Man."

"Aye, Sire, I gets the same feelin' in my pits and, further, I'll speak with my Sergeant directly."

With that, Captain Difaniel wheeled his neat pony around, and sure-footedly they picked their way down through the scree to the ancient road to join his troop, before they rode off to find two other ways down to the river, one either side of the road, so his Skirmishers could check out for ambushes.

Korwyn sighed and waited for the advance of the main body to reach him, so they would follow the main road. Here it was still well marked out compared to the wilderness round about but not as well repaired as earlier roads the Army had traversed but, he thought, 'no doubt the roads ahead'll worsen afore they betten'.

***

Lady Galadriella had been watching the road all morning since the Dwarf messenger arrived late last night and sent a buzz of eager anticipation throughout the isolated community. She hadn't ever seen a Dwarf in these parts on the extreme edge of the Kingdom of Man before and hadn't met any at all since her late husband and she were last at Court in Llandoryn. Back then the old King Mother was still alive and Galadriella last felt she was a welcome visitor in the old citadel above the capital city of Man. Since being widowed she'd not been back.

The old Dwarf Ambassador at the capital had been a sweet old man, she remembered, with a raft of funny and self-deprecating stories. It was difficult to reconcile those old memories with the earnest young Dwarf who banged on her cottage door, escorted by half the village who wanted to know the news that his novelty appearance announced, but he refused to tell anyone but "Lady Galadriella, the mother of the Hero of Dharibia and the Seven Kingdoms, the legendary Lord Korwyn".

Many in the village had not heard any real news of their absent Lord since he set out to track down the Black Dragon nine and a half years before, so he had indeed become a figure of speculative legend to them. Occasionally, a bag of silver would be sent by a known and trusted messenger from him and once a small bag of gold showed up, which kept the village in bread for almost a year.

"My Lady, your son Lord Korwyn and his Lady Zyndyr, are together the hero and heroine of Dharibia and the Seven Kingdoms of Dwarves. Our Beloved High Queen has made both Lord Korwyn and his Lady Zyndyr Knights of the Grand Order of Pergammon, the highest honour that can be bestowed and the first ever given to non-Dwarves. Alone, your son and his lady rescued our High Queen Myr when she was but a princess, from the deep dungeons of the Orcs of Blearn Mountain, where they fought to the death with the Mad Wizard of Yandor in the guise of the White Dragon of Blearn. I am an advance messenger from those who follow me. Less than a day behind me is a train of carts carrying seed and farming implements with fifty able bodied Dwarves who are farmers and husbandmen as well as trained and able Militia, to help you with the preparation of the land all the way through to the next harvest. We will be training up your boys and girls in the arts of farming and the associated crafts of preserving food, as well as train your Militia, so you can become self-sufficient in food and self-defence by the time we return to our High Queen a year from now. The bullocks that pull the carts will help us to till the land and help make it whole and productive again."

He had handed the Lady a weighty bag of gold coins, enough in itself to wipe out the debt the village in total owed the provisioner and proved enough to buy up all his stock, so the village had feasted last night as they had never feasted before.

Now the young Dwarf was in a bed for the first time in a month, he had said, and was still asleep, even though the sun in the clear blue sky had burned off the mist and early morning frost.

Lady Galadriella ached to receive the cart train and find out more about her son from the leader of the group of Dwarves, sent to their aid by him and what appeared to be a grateful nation. She not only wanted to know what he had done to be fêted and rewarded so by this distant people, but was he all right in body, heart and mind? When would he return to his home? And just who was this Lady warrior who had apparently captured his heart?

It was late in the morning before she heard the younger children running up the road with the news that the Dwarves were indeed coming. The Dwarf lying in Korwyn's bed chose hearing that announcement to awake and dress before his colleagues joined him.

When the train arrived, a row of carts filled with jolly smiling Dwarves and all the villagers dancing around them. No work was done that day, but villagers gladly volunteered for the honour to billet ones and twos of the outlandish but pleasantly charming newcomers who were pleased with any welcome.

The leading Dwarf, was the one with silver hair, while the others were so young and vigorous. He approached Lady Galadriella and announced what they were directed there by their High Queen to do. The Lady invited him into the parlour where they could sit and talk, while one of the young girls set the fire going in the grate, lit the lamps and brought through glasses of hot punch as the day wore on.

"Madam, I am head gardener Dhigham, we are directed here by our High Queen Myr to bring you twelve bags of gold, seeds of peas and pulses, root crops, cereals and herbs. We have with us sheep, goats and geese, too, to start off your new herds. We will plough your fields now or over the next few days to allow them to weather in what is left of the winter. We will sprinkle on the fields a tiny amount of powder that the Elf-Warrior Zyndyr--"

"The Lady Zyndyr is an Elf?" Lady Galadriella asked incredulously,

"Aye, Madam, an Elf that served our old King for four years as part of his bodyguard before she was sent by the King to rescue his kidnapped daughter the Princess from the evil Mad Wizard of Yandor. Your son Lord Korwyn teamed up with Lady Zyndyr and went together deep into the heart of Blearn Mountain and snatched the Princess Myr, the Crown Prince Bydonkriankryar, and Princess Raya from under the noses of uncountable Orcs and the Undead Soldiers. They were chased across the mountain and down into the valley, cutting down everyone in their path. They were attacked by the Undead, including Undead wolfhounds and Undead cavalry. They sneered at all them what was agin 'em, Ma'am. Your son was wounded but he carried the Crown Prince throughout the day under pursuit until they could rest at night."

"What was his wound, head gardener Dhigham?"

"He was wounded on the thigh, Ma'am, but he was unfazed, he fought Orc and Undead and carried our dear Prince until the Lady Elf could treat him as only an Elf can, with magic spider webs 'tis said. Then, hardly had the Lady Zyndyr dressed his wound and the Sorcerer was awakened from his sleep in the form of a White Dragon, living in the lava under the mountain, lava so hot that he was as white as molten tin and breathed fearful fire hot enough to melt stone. He was so angry that he burned up all the forests until he found the Lord Korwyn in the open and targeted him. But then the Lady Elf fired all her arrows that couldn't possibly do more than sting his hide but diverted the Dragon's attention towards her so the Lord might live. So the Dragon turns his flames upon the Lady Elf, and the brave Lord Korwyn throws rocks to taunt the Dragon and draws the flames back to him. But the Lord wears this skin of the Black Dragon, the very Dragon that started the Battle of Hawkshart Plain, so his flames cannot penetrate the Dragonskin, so when the White Dragon draws breath to breathe fire again, the Noble Lord had waited out his chance and stabbed him in the Dragon's firebox and the Dragon exploded so violently that ne'er a single trace of it was ever found excepting a severed big toe."

"And was my son hurt in this battle with the fire-eating dragon?" The Lady Galadriella felt compelled to ask of the gardener, her voice full of apprehension.

"Nay Lady, ne'er worry about that, the Lord Korwyn is blessed with Elfish treatments from the Lady and good magic, our Queen Grand Mother Urmah is--" and he dropped his speech to a whisper, "--a Witch, but one of the good ones, you know?"

Lady Galadriella had no idea what a Witch was like, good or bad, but she had to ask, "So this Elf Lady, she is what to my son?"

"She is in love with your son, Ma'am, so much so that we understand she has surrendered to him her immortality."

"You mean she could have lived forever?"

"Providing she is not killed, yes, she could have lived forever, Elves never grow old, or if they do it is over many many lifetimes of us mere mortals."

"Would you fancy that, such a magical being that was so in love with my son that she would sacrifice her immortality for him?"

"Aye, she is said to be a beauty among Elves, she be very tall, almost as tall as your son. Skinny she be, too skinny by halves. But she has beautiful green eyes that can peer into your heart until she knows you, trusts you and then they be as soft as spring water. Her facial features be a sharp narrow nose, arching eyebrows and her skin has a golden sheen to it. She has long green hair down to her b-- beg ye pardon Ma'am -- her backside, what is oft braided into a pony tail or pigtails, or squashed up in her helm of silver." He dropped his normal booming voice to a whisper, "She wears what she calls 'livin' armour', what reacts to battle and covers her in silver armour when in danger. Magic, Ma'am, I hates magic, it sets me teeth on edge it do, but the Lady never uses it agin her friends the Dwarves."

"I feel sure that, providing she hasn't put a spell on my son--"

"No, the Lord Korwyn be no slave to her favours, Ma'am," he chuckled, his red face wreathed in smiles, "they argues all the time, Ma'am, like an old married couple, but they shows each other affectionate looks and touches all at the same time, but theys both knows an' expresses theys own minds. The couple are our nation's heroes but they is also a constant source of amusement in the Dwarf Palace of Queen Myr's as they dance acourtin' around one another, Ma'am, so much in love they be."

"I'm pleased that Korwyn has found someone he loves and she returns the love he deserves, but can they have...." the Lady couldn't bring herself to put name into word.

"Children between Man and Elf?" head gardener Dhigham grinned, "Aye, she be already with child is the talk in the taverns of Dharibia, and the babe will be a mortal human child, a daughter, they says. But going back to why we is here, Ma'am. We is fifty Dwarves strong. We be farmers and gardeners given leave from the palace home farms of the Royal Household of the Seven Kingdoms to come here and manage your fields for the next year and train up your young'uns and womenfolk. The oxens we brung be both bullocks and heifers and the carts will stay here and our Dwarf tools'll do while your children is small. We have a wheelwright and a smith here who'll teach the makin' an' repairin' of tools. An' we is all fully trained in the Militia, so we kin teach the boys how to defend your lands, especially as these lands will become more valuable as they be more fertile and productive. Now, I must be off, Ma Tankley be the widow living by the Long Pond what's takin' me in and after our welcome feast I is lookin' forward to a long sleep abed an' an early rising to start awork upon the morrow. My leave, Lady Galadriella."

"And sleep well, my dear Dwarf."

***

The river campsite was rocky below a rich but shallow alluvial soil and it was difficult to drive in tent pegs, though the grass was sweet for the mounts and cart horses and oxen. It was cold, too, as the wind seemed to channel between the snow capped mountains ahead and down the river bottom, bringing the chill air down with it. Although there were few trees here, there was much uncut furze available where the soil was thin so it was likely that few travellers had stopped to set camp along here this year. Once fires were lit and warm food and hot water became available the whole camp became much more cheery.

"I wish we had timed our arrival better and had enough light to cross to the other side," Korwyn admitted to Zyndyr, once they cuddled in their tiny dragonskin tent. "We could have set out in dry clothing and boots, because I am sure we'll reach the snow line sometime during the morrow."

"It cannot be helped, Wyn," she replied, then she giggled, "mind you, I'll be flying across, so not even a wet toe will I have to concern myself with."

Korwyn grinned, "It's a rare thing for a man to have a girlfriend who can fly."

"Well, being the only Elf left in your world, my love, I would say you're unique in that respect. And yes, it is rare but not unknown. We have a legend that Man's elevation from the general beasts of this world was due to a Human and Elf coupling."

"You mean another Elf had surrendered her immortality for the love of a Man?"

"Not quite. It is the story of Evenmoz and Dhamatrya and has been told to our children for almost five thousand years. One day, soon after the Elves first came here, the Elf Prince Evenmoz was exploring a new forest far from his home. He was heir to the throne and had felt constrained at home and constantly watched by the Imperial Guard. He felt their watching was overprotective. The forests of this world were teeming with bears and wolves, and would be no danger to most Elves who were battle hardened, but Evenmoz was not a robust Elf. He was young, inexperienced and had no hunting, defensive or magic skills, he had always relied on others for his defence, provisions and medical care. Walking alone through a wood, he suddenly came upon a wonderful garden, full of planted crops and vines, vegetables and herbs. He was hungry and saw a skinned rabbit hanging from a cord tied to an overhanging bough from a gnarled old tree on the edge of the garden. Well, roasted rabbit was Evenmoz's second favourite meal, as Royal Elves eat richer than normal Elves."