Rising of a Mage: Book 03 - A Mage Risen (28 page)

Hellen looked into her eyes. “I am not embarrassed to be seen naked, but I have begun to develop feelings for you
, Hellen. I do not think it would be appropriate for me to be naked in your presence. I will ask Rundo to help me when he comes back today.”

Hellen stared into his eyes. “I admit I have feelings for you as well. I asked to stay and help with your recovery because I admired you, but now I am truly beginning to care for you. I haven’t felt these feelings before, and I am a bit unsure how to deal with them. When you are healed I have to return to Freeman. I feel like I may only be setting myself up to be hurt.”

Jabaal looked into her eyes. “Hellen, I don’t know what the future holds for me. What I do know is that I want to get to know you. I want to be around you. I know there is something here and I don’t want to lose it before we have even had the opportunity to see what it might be. Give me a couple of weeks, and let us see where it goes from there. Maybe I will come to Freeman with you.”

Hellen was overcome with emotion. She had come to care for him very strongly in only a couple of days. To hear him admit he had the same feelings was like jumping in cold water on a hot day
—refreshing and shocking at the same time. “I will stay here with you for a couple of weeks, but I need to send word to Freeman.”

The next few days they spent all of their time together. Jabaal was allowed to get out of bed for a couple of minutes a day. Rundo brought him soap and water each day and helped him undress and dress. The rest of Evermount was preparing for Grindel’s funeral. It would be a couple of weeks before the dwarves of the other kingdoms all arrived. That would be when Jabaal would have to decide
whether his future lay with Hellen.

It had been a month since he had lost his leg, and today was Grindel’s funeral. A couple of days ago Grizzle had brought in a metal peg leg. He had said that a wooden one wasn’t reliable.

Jabaal sat on the edge of the bed while Hellen helped him strap on the leg. The leg was a hollow steel rod with a cup-shaped area at the top that was fitted to his stump. Grizzle had apparently measured it when he was asleep. Inside the socket was a lining of wool. The socket covered the stump most the way up to his groin, giving him plenty of support. There were straps on the front, back, and side that connected to a belt around his waist, and that belt had suspenders that went over his shoulders. They had set it up so the straps could tie into the belt of his pants. He would just have holes in the waist of all of his pants where the straps came through to tie into the belt. He wore a cotton shirt under the suspenders and a regular shirt over them. The suspenders could be worn like normal suspenders, really: they were a little thicker then normal suspenders, but they weren’t terribly uncomfortable. Jabaal knew that it would all take some getting used to, but all in all it wasn’t a bad system.

Grizzle said he was working on something better then the peg, but it would help him get used to
a prosthesis for now. Hellen had told them that it was still early to be using the peg. The wound was mostly healed, but it would still be painful to put pressure on the stump. Jabaal had decided he would take the pain if it would give him a chance to get out of this bed.

The first day had been terrible. The leg didn’t bend or give at all. He basically had to use the peg by swinging the lifeless limb forward, then balancing on it while he brought his good leg forward. Grizzle and Hellen had each taken one of his hands. He had tried to walk on the stump but it felt more like he was putting his weight on the other two and hopping to his good leg. He was just using the stump to help him hold his weight. The bottom of the stump slipped on the stone a couple of times when he had put all of his weight on it
and tried to use it like his real leg. He had fought through the pain for close to an hour when Hellen finally said that she wouldn’t allow him to continue. She was very stern, and even Grizzle didn’t dare argue with her. He couldn’t help but smile.

Grizzle had taken the peg leg and file
d some grooves in the bottom in order to help prevent it from slipping. The next two days went the same as the first. It was awkward, but after an hour or two each morning and night he was starting to get used to the motion of the leg. He couldn’t go far, and it really was still very painful. He was also very unbalanced and often used the support of the person next to him to keep from falling. But he was able to get around, which was thrilling. He just had to practice. Hellen had told him that the pain would go away in a few more weeks. It wasn’t the excruciating pain that it had been a few weeks ago, but it was still a lot more than just sore.

With his
prosthetic leg firmly in place, Hellen helped him dress for the funeral celebration. Dwarves celebrated death. To die meant that you were going to be with Bordin. The death of the king would be a huge celebration, to be sure.

Dwarves from the other two inhabited kingdoms had arrived over the last two weeks. There were four dwarven kingdoms in all. Evermount was the biggest and the home of the king over all the dwarves. The other three were Shinestone, Haufen, and Teifes Loch. Haufen had the closest relationships with humans, and did a lot more trading with them.
Tiefes Loch was actually a deep mine, not a mountain. Shinestone was empty of dwarves after Miskrull had killed them all. That issue would surely be addressed after the funeral, as well as the issues of Grizzle becoming king, and what to do about Grundel the half-dwarf prince.

With the help of Hellen and Anwar
, Jabaal limped his way to the biggest hall in Evermount. The room was packed with hundreds of dwarves. so that there was hardly room to move. Dwarves made a path for them as they made their way to the front. Jabaal was to be seated at a table to the front. He was a hero to the dwarves and the best friend to the king on top of that. Dwarves cheered him as he passed. He realized that most of them were already drunk. It was a celebration after all.

At the front of the hall
, towering over everything else, was a huge stone sculpture. It was close to twenty feet tall and more then twice the size of the moment it replicated. There was a huge twenty-foot-tall orc with his hands choking the king. The king’s arm disappeared into the chest of the monstrous orc that held him suspended in the air by the throat. Jabaal had been there when it had happened. Apparently others who had also been there had given the sculptor a good description of the event. The orc’s size had been exaggerated a little in comparison to Grindel’s, but Jabaal would never say that out loud. Dwarves liked their heroes and their stories. He had no intention of downplaying either.

Finally they made it to the table at the front of the room. They were not at the head table, but the next table closes
t to it. The head table featured King Grizzle, Queen Anna, Grundel, and the kings of the other two dwarven kingdoms. Jabaal sat down next to Rundo. Hellen sat down on his other side, and Anwar sat at the end of the table on the other side of Rundo.

After sitting for close to an hour
, the first plate of food came out: potatoes cut in quarters and fried in oil and cheese. The cheese was a smoked oshpeck made from goat’s milk.

It was another hour before the second plate came out. The dwarves were beginning to get rowdy. The food might be slow in coming, but the ale was not. Jabaal had no intention of drinking ale. He had enough trouble trying to stay upright on his stump.
Hellen was drinking the dark ale, much thicker and darker then the lighter ales the humans normally favored. Anwar was too concerned with staying in control to risk alcohol.

Hellen was looking at the plate suspiciously. “What is this?”

Jabaal smiled. “It’s roasted cave slug and onions. They aren’t actually slugs. It just looks kind of like a slug. They are almost all meat so they are great meals in a cave. They taste a bit like rabbit.”

He watched as she took the first bite hesitantly. After the first bit she seemed to enjoy the food. She had actually done well. Dwarf food was often an acquired taste
, but Jabaal happened to love it. Finally, while everyone was eating, Grizzle stood up on the dais.

T
he room calmed down as everyone’s attention was directed to the new king. “My father has gone to be with Bordin. May the fires of his smith burn forever,” he said, lifting his mug. Cheers followed and mugs were lifted. When it was quiet again he continued. “Grindel Stoneheart was a great king. He wouldn’t have wanted us to waste a bunch of time on words. Let each of you remember him in your own stories. Tell each other of them. I will only say this: The last time I saw my father was at the base of this mountain. As I cut through orcs trying to make it to my king’s side I saw that huge orc wrap his hands around his throat.” He pointed to the statue of the king and the orc. “Just when I thought he was finished I watched him bury his hands in the big orc’s chest. They fell to the ground, and died together. Let us drink to the king, and to the orc who gave him a well-fought death in combat. May we all be so lucky.”

Cheers went up through the hall. Every mug went bottom up. Jabaal had to smile. This is what Grizzle would have wanted, he knew. “This is what a funeral should be like, not all the somber tears we humans share,”
he said to no one in particular.

“Grindel would have loved this,” Rundo said.

“No, he would have loved that the dwarves were enjoying themselves, but he hated attention. I think that was part of why he was such a good king.” When they turned around Grundel was standing there.

Before any of them found the words to comfort him
, they heard a commotion. When they turned back to the dais there was a man standing there.

“That is him. That is the Father. I will never forget that face. The eyes are too old for it,” Jabaal said.

Dwarves were jumping to their feet and binging out whatever weapons they had. The man who had suddenly appeared looked at Grizzle. “You know who I am and why I have come. I am not your enemy.”

Grizzle pushed through the other kings who had stepped between him and the man who had somehow magically appeared in the room. “Calm yourselves! This is the Father. He is our friend. He has come to see Anwar. Everyone, sit down and finish your food. Drink some more ale. Celebrate, the oldest mortal in history has come to pay his respects to Grindel son of Hindel.”

Not for the last time that night
,every cup in the hall was tipped up and drained in honor of Grindel Stoneheart, the dwarf who had killed the giant orc with only his hands.

The Father had been around a long time. He understood the dwarves. He waited for cups to be refilled and even took one himself.
He raised the mug. “To Grindel Stoneheart. Born from the stone and made of steel. A king who will bring even the gods to heel. Let him not be forgot by friend or foe, cause there’s still other Stonehearts to remind them, you know. I had the great pleasure of knowing the king, and even the Father came bending his knee,” with that he turned up his mug and drained the dark ale.

The dwarves cheered louder then they had all night. Dwarves loved rhymes almost as much as they loved hearing
the Father admit to bending a knee to a dwarf king.

Grizzle walked with
the Father over to the table where Anwar stood. “Anwar Alamira, may I have a moment of your time?” the Father asked.

“You may, but first I would like to know how you were able to travel through the wards of Evermount,” Anwar asked.

“Yes, I was curious about that myself,” Grizzle said.

The
Father just smiled and looked at both of them with those old eyes. Anwar had taken hold and challenged one of the gods, but the Father stood here smiling at him, and he felt like a child. “I am older then the wards on this mountain. I am also the one who set most of them in place. Do you have any other questions?”

“I do,” Jabaal said.

“Yes, I knew you would be the hardest to convince. You are, after all, a child of Kalime. Naturally you will be the most protective of your friend. What can I do to put you at ease, Jabaal Cavallo?”

It was weird hearing his birth name like that. He hadn’t heard it used in years. He wasn’t surprised that
the Father knew it, though. “What do you want with Anwar?”

The Father gave Jabaal
a smile that said he was amused. It was the smile a parent gives to a child when she does something clever. “Straight to the point. Very well, then, in the immediate future all I want with Anwar is to give him the opportunity to control his power. If he does not learn to control it then he will become a threat to the world. I do not mean to allow him to lose control and put me in a position where I must make a decision about what to do with him.”

“What decision would that be
?” Jabaal asked.

Anwar cut him off before
the Father could answer. “We all know what that decision would be. Eventually if I lose control enough times and do not look to one of the gods or to the Father for help I will become too dangerous. At some point he will have to decide when the threat I pose is greater than the value of allowing me to live. None of us are fools. We all understand what is at stake here. The real question that was hidden in your statement was the "for now." I would like to know what your plan for me is after the immediate future?”