The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu (22 page)

“Quite all right,”
Hadaras assured the groom, in Dwarvish. 
“We are in no major hurry and it’s still early.”

“He’s doing a great job too,”
Aleron added, his Dwarvish improving greatly over the week they spent at Dhargul.

Fingal grinned at that, saying,
“Thank you, Lords.  I’m trying my best.”

“Couldn’t have done it better myself,”
Daegle assured him. 
“This lad will do just fine.  He actually likes horses, which is uncommon as hen’s teeth. 
Fingal grinned even broader at that and moved on to the next animal. 
“Now I know you gentlefolk can take care of yourselves, but take extra care in the high passes.  Aside from the snow, there’s still mountain trolls out there and they’re thicker along the road, hoping to catch travelers at unawares.  There’s worse stuff out there than trolls too, so be on your guard.”

“We will be, my friend,”
Hadaras assured him. 
“I’ve travelled these mountains before and seen what dark things they harbor.  We will be on our guard.” 

It was then that the royal coach came clattering into view.  As it pulled up to stop before them, the coach door opened and out hopped the Lord Chamberlain, who proceeded to announce,
“All bow and pay homage to His Majesty, High King of the Southern Kingdom of the Blue Mountain Dwarves, Faergas Goldhammer!”

“Oh, shovel off this steaming pile of dung, Ulrick!  They know bloody well who I am and they don’t need to bow either.” 
The King hopped lightly out of the coach, followed by Ierick.   Fingal snickered at the exchange, which drew him a sharp glare from Daegle, whereupon his expression quickly sobered.  Daegle bowed low anyway and his apprentice quickly followed suit. 
“Rise, loyal subjects, rise.  I said no bowing right now.  Save it for when there’s folks about Daegle.”

“Apologies for both of us, Majesty,”
Daegle replied, as he recovered.

“Daegle here is one of the best horse grooms in the kingdom,”
Faergas exclaimed,
“I’ll have him in the royal stables as soon as old Golan retires.  How’s the new lad coming along?”

“Fingal is doing just fine, Your Majesty,”
Daegle answered the King. 
“He’s the best I’ve had come through here in a long time, actually enjoys working with the animals.”

Fingal beamed visibly at the praise from his master, before the King. 
“Good to hear,  that’s a rare quality among us, I well know,”
  Faergas stated. 
“Carry on  Daegle.   I don’t wish to hold you up from your duties.  Get our friends’ mounts saddled up right, so we can send them off on a good note.”

“Right away, Your Majesty.” 
With that, Daegle and his helper resumed saddling and loading the horses.

“I hope the provisions will prove adequate for the next leg of your journey,” The king directed at Hadaras.

“You have been most generous, Your Majesty,” Hadaras replied.  “I had every intention of purchasing what we needed for the road to Nhargul, but you have provisioned us beyond my intentions, thank you so very much.”

“You know your money is no good here, old friend.  You’ve done more to aid this kingdom than we could ever repay you.  If not for you, that evil bitch would still rule through my body and the people would suffer.”  He went on in a lower voice, moving closer to Hadaras, “Now take good care of that lad.  If that other thing we spoke of is true, then all of Aertu will depend on him in the end.  Rest assured, if it comes down to that, he will have our pikes and axes at his disposal, as well as my hammer.  He’s a good lad.  I can see the pure light shining in his eyes, but all that can change if he falls under the wrong influence.”

“I will, my friend,” Hadaras answered, barely above a whisper.  “Thank you for the pledge; we may have to take you up on it, if what I suspect is true.  Pray that it is still years in the future.”

“Aye, that’s for certain.  I’ll pray to the Allfather and all the Gods for that.”

Meanwhile, the youths were holding their own conversation.  “I wonder what the old ones are scheming over there?” Ierick mused.  “Looks like it’s something serious.  Usually my father is loud as a cave bear.”

“I think the King has some business for my grandfather to attend to in Nhargul,” Aleron seemed to theorize, knowing full well they were likely talking about him.  Ierick could not yet know who he was.  “They did a lot of secret meeting, just the two of them, this week.”

“Your Grandfather is some sort of halfblood wizard, right?”

“Yeah, something like that, I suppose.  Why do you ask?”

“So you would be something like one eighth elf; what does that make you?”

“Beardless for life, apparently and not much else,” Aleron joked, knowing there was no truth in it.  He was a terrible liar and the current line of this conversation was making him a bit uncomfortable.  He didn’t enjoy having to be less than honest with his new friend.  He began to worry again, about what he would tell his friends back home, when he returned.  A few months ago, he was nobody special.  Now he was a halfblood sorcerer and heir to a throne, vacant for a thousand years.

“Ha, that’s a good one.  I guess I was just hoping I could have a wizard friend, like my father,” Ierick admitted, “but you’ll do, I suppose,” he continued, with a mischievous grin.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but who knows, maybe it will crop up some day.”

“One can only hope,” Ierick surmised and then he said, “It looks like you’re ready to go.  The old ones are finished talking and the horses are loaded.  Fare thee well my friend.  I hope to see you again someday.”

“I’m sure we’ll be back someday.  Thank you for showing me around.  This is an amazing city.”

“Come along, my boy, we need to get moving now,” Hadaras called out to him.  “The sun is well above the horizon outside these caverns and we need to put some miles behind us this day.”  Aleron hurried to join his guardian and mounted his horse, newly shod, as it turned out.  Repeating goodbyes all around, they rode out of Dhargul with no additional fanfare, into the bright morning sunshine.  The sun was a handbreadth above the mountains to the east, making it mid-morning, as they left the magnificent city of the dwarves, third oldest city in the world, behind.  Snow capped peaks, like a row of glittering white teeth, rose before them, to the north.  Somewhere ahead lay the pass that would take them through the otherwise impassable range.  The day still young, they rode on in high spirits.

***

Baruk stood at the bow, if you could call it that, of the fastest long-range catamaran in the Thallasian fleet.  Even travelling over sixty leagues a day, it would take them two months to reach the capital of Sudea.  Dressed in more finery than he was used to, with the gaudy sword at his side, he felt out of place on this ship. 
I’m a sailor, not a damned diplomat.  What am I doing here, anyway? 
Nevertheless, the wind did feel good in his face.  He knew this mission was of utmost importance to his country.  Thallasia could not be allowed to fall under the dominion of the Nameless God again.  The elf who claimed to be his son had already swayed Kolixtlan and Adar, leaving Thallasia with no allies in the world.  Elmenia was friendly, in general, but had no central government and couldn’t be counted on as a true ally.  Baruk’s great-grandfather was Elmenian, in fact, banished from his clan for some wrongdoing and hopping on the first Thallasian trader that was hiring.  Thallasia needed strong allies among the free peoples and Sudea was still the strongest of them all, despite its decline from the glory of ages past.  The ship flew the white flag of truce, a universal symbol among the civilized peoples of Aertu and even some not so civilized.  Baruk hoped that it would be enough to keep the Sudean navy from killing them outright, then scuttling the ship.  This was a long-range scout, designed to outrun pursuit, not a warship.  This mission, however, would not allow for them to turn and run at the first sign of trouble. 
Please, Allfather, I pray to you now.  Let me find success, for the sake of my people.  I give you thanks and promise always and everywhere to serve you. 
Never a very religious man, recent events caused Baruk to reassess his life and remember some of the covenants he had made with his god as a child.  His parents were simple trades people and strict adherents to the sole veneration of the Allfather.  No graven images of other gods and goddesses were allowed in the home in which he was raised.  It was not that they did not believe in the existence of the gods; they just knew who was the creator of all things, including the gods.  He pulled the white raven pendant out from the neck of his tunic.  It was a gift from his mother, when he entered the navy, so many years ago.  He always wore it close and now he wondered if it had anything to do with his being spared in the attack that took his men. 
Was it my resourcefulness, or was it you looking out for me, Allfather?
   He would never know for sure, of course, but such is the nature of faith.

Chapter 24

Corballday, Day 15, Sowing Moon. 8761 Sudean Calendar

After nearly a year on the road, Aleron and Hadaras once again found themselves in the familiar countryside of home, the cottage and farmyard visible in the distance.  It was a warm spring and many farmers had already finished their planting, the rich black soil just beginning to show the green tinge of new growth.  Several were out with hoes, dealing with the pernicious weeds sprouting among the crops.  Those close by, waved when they recognized the pair.  Bright green fields of hay and winter wheat were interspersed among the black patches of newly planted crops, creating a checkerboard effect, while sheep goats and cattle grazed on the fresh new growth of the pastures.  For Aleron, the familiar sights and smells placed his mind at ease, to a degree he had not experienced in ages.  “It feels good to be home, Grandfather.”

“Yes it does, my boy; yes it does,” Hadaras agreed.  “I just spoke to Jessamine, so she will be expecting us.  I hope you’re in the mood for brisket.”

“I’m in the mood for anything other than dried beef and bannock, Grandfather,” the young man replied.  “I do miss Jessie’s cooking.”  In the year they were away, Aleron had grown to over six feet tall and filled out as well.  His moustache was thicker, but still no trace of a beard.  Hadaras told him that it was unlikely that he would ever grow a full beard.  Halfbloods, especially first-generation offspring, nearly always lacked facial hair to some extent, some even totally lacking, like elves.

Over the past nine months, they undertook the month long excursion, over the spine of the Blue Mountains, to Nhargul, capital of the Northern Kingdom and the oldest city of dwarves on Aertu.  Following their week in Nhargul, they undertook the arduous three-month journey to Wynn, capital of the Elvish Colonies. 

Aleron found the Northern Kingdom of the Blue Mountain Dwarves to be quite different in atmosphere from the Southern Kingdom.  Due to the border shared with the Central Jungle and Kolixtlan, the northerners deal with the near constant incursions of wild-men, half-trolls and hobgoblins from the jungle.  They are the most militarized of the four dwarvish kingdoms, maintaining the largest standing army.  All male dwarves train as warriors and any of the kingdoms are able to muster armies if needed, but professional soldiers are generally volunteers.  The Northern Kingdom, in contrast, requires a mandatory period of four years military service from all able bodied dwarves, beginning a week after their twentieth birthday.  A large percentage choose to stay on longer, receiving a generous pension after forty or more years of service and often still young enough to go into business for themselves, dwarves often living  over two hundred years.  Because of the dearth of friendly neighbors, northerners tend to be reserved with strangers.  However, due to the border shared with the Elvish Colonies, they have more dealings with elves than the other three kingdoms, often conducting shared military operations against their common enemies of the jungle.  Aleron saw that although the architecture and the level of technical advancement seemed to be about the same between the north and south, the southerners appeared to be able to enjoy the fruits of their labor more fully than their northern cousins were.  He liked a few things about the Northern Kingdom though.  At one point, he remarked to his grandfather, in private “Grandfather, I think I like the idea of compulsory service that they use here.  I think I might use it when I’m King.”

“Really and how would you propose going about with this plan?” Hadaras asked, continuing, “I think you may find the population of Sudea to be a bit large for any universal conscription to be feasible.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking about that for the common people, Grandfather.  Your right; there are far too many people for that.  I was thinking along the lines of what the Steward said that one time.  He said that all noble sons should serve and I believe he is right.  Otherwise, what purpose do the nobility serve, if they do not serve the kingdom?”

“That, my boy, makes more sense,” Hadaras agreed, “and I believe that would be a good thing for Sudea, that the nobles do not forget for what they exist.” 

Travelling the dwarf road for a month, they, they eventually descended through the foothills, into the elvish lands below.  They could have descended directly from Nhargul into the colonies, but that would have taken them into the elvish borderlands with the jungle, a much more hazardous region than the mountainous dwarvish border.  They chose instead, the second cut off, which led along the border with Sudea and on to the coast, directly toward Wynn. 

Arriving to the capital of the Elvish Colonies, the difference in the architecture immediately impressed Aleron.  He had become used to the solid massiveness of dwarvish building.  Aside from the dwarves, he knew only the somewhat boxy utilitarianism of Sudean building.  Aside from the royal palace of Arundell, most Sudean buildings are low structures, seldom exceeding two stories.  In Wynn, Aleron noted that soaring arches and tall spires were the norm.  Elves build upward, rather than outward, leaving ample room between structures to allow for open space at ground level.  Hadaras told him once, that the earliest elves lived in tree houses and many still did, in the countryside.  Whether constructed of stone, or wood, the structures of the capital city often rose to dizzying heights.  Though not as solid as the underground cities of the dwarves, the elvish structures were breathtaking in their delicate aesthetics, often seeming to float on thin air.