“Justice and right action bring their rewards in time.”—Dwarvish saying

  Castle Tower, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  Life at the Tower fell into a comfortable routine for Jasper and his people for the next few weeks. He trained in the salle with Armsmaster Benn, Titus, and his house guard. The knight also alternated with Captain Delgan in drilling the militia daily. They marched and practiced sword and shield work in formation according to the direction of the instructors. As time passed, Jasper could see them shaping up to be a decent cohort, though, as Benn said, there was always room to improve.

  Meanwhile, preparations for the coming celebration were in full swing. Cook Harla had little time to teach Jasper more of her people’s lessons, but the Lord of the Tower still studied dwarven lore and language intently on his own. His interaction with Beklan in The Vill spurred him on. Whenever Jasper recalled the way the dwarf’s eyes had sparkled when the human greeted him in the traditional manner, it always made Jasper smile. Amidst his lessons from Harla and Benn, Jasper spent a great deal of time with Calian instructing him on the behavior and mannerisms appropriate for a regional lord. Calian told Jasper that his peers and subjects would expect certain things from him, so the vampire strove to educate him in the ways of the land.

  Jasper never particularly enjoyed school as a teenager, he much preferred spending time with his friends and working together. But, his desire to learn more about the world urged him to stay up late at night reading the tomes Harla and Calian had given him, when he was not being asked if the lace placemats were an acceptable style or if the servants ought to use some of the tableware set aside for repayment to the Banking Guild.

  Again, Jasper wondered at the sheer number of things that went into the preparation of the Tower. Should the courtyard be decorated? Should the staff have special uniforms made up for the event? Jasper would admit to no one but himself that he was overwhelmed by the prospect. He insisted that he required no great show, but to simply make things presentable in the courtyards, guest rooms, and both the public halls.

  One morning, a scant few days before many of the guests’ expected arrivals, Calian informed Jasper that there was something important in the Main Hall that Harla and her kin wished him to see. Jasper set aside his pencil from copying simple dwarven runes, which he was picking up remarkably fast, and wiped his hands on a cloth before descending the steps from the eating room midway up the Tower.

  “Calian, if they’re asking about napkin designs again, I swear I will—”He halted mid-sentence and step, his hand on the railing. The vampire was nowhere to be seen. Before him was a wood table, made into a massive ring. It had wide-based legs that supported the weight of the thick oak. The surface of the band was perhaps a yard across, stained deep brown and polished smooth. From one side of the ring to the other spanned a gap nearly twenty feet wide. It could seat nearly twenty-five to thirty people outside. There were beautiful swirling carvings cut into the tabletop, and around the outer edge of the table were dwarven runes. Jasper squinted at the letters, sifting through the gobs of information he had been learning. He realized with a start it was telling the story of his arrival at the Tower.

  “We hope it pleases you, Lord,” said a dwarf, standing off to the side with Harla and several others. He held his cap in his hands and was looking hopeful.

  “Oh, it does,” he said with a stunned voice. “This is spectacular. Harla, my friends, I—I do not know what to say.” Harla smiled, and bowed her head, her fellows following her lead.

  “It pleases us to present our confirmation gift to my Lord early,” she explained. “Dorcas and these woodworkers wished to present it before all preparations were completed, knowing it would serve well during the celebration.” Jasper approached the table and put his hands on the beautiful, grained wood. He looked up at the bareheaded dwarf and his companions.

  “You have my heartfelt gratitude, Dorcas. This gift means a great deal to me, and your craftsmanship is without a peer I have seen.” Dorcas bowed low, eyes brimming with tears of joy. His brethren did as well, beaming happily.

  “‘Tis our honor, my Lord Jasper. For what you have done for our people, for what you continue to do, a table—grand though it may be—is no exchange.” Jasper opened his mouth to object but held his tongue. Once a dwarf had gotten something into their head, it was difficult to get it out again, and he would not insult them by trying.

  “Again, I must thank you.” He brushed his thumb over the hardwood. “It is such a beautiful thing. It is a pity we cannot use the inner area to serve or seat more. With this much table space we could almost double the number of diners.”

  “Ah, but we can! See here,” Dorcas came forward and reached under the outer lip of the table. There was a soft click and a seam appeared before two short pieces of the table dropped down and slid back under the sections they were connected to. Some sort of rail system cradled the planks beneath the table. “With this, there is plenty of room for a person to walk through, even laden with a large platter of food. There are four such gates, also allowing us to break the main furniture up and use it as separate tables, if necessary.” Jasper stepped back, hands on hips, shaking his head.

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  “You amaze me yet again, Dorcas. Your people’s craft is astounding. Thank you.” He bowed to the dwarf. “I cannot wait to see it used in the next few days.”

  “It pleases us to see our work appreciated and used rightly.” Dorcas smiled and returned Jasper’s bow. “If it please, Lord, we must return to the shop. There is work to be done repairing the Aviary’s furnishings, and Master Idein has already begun on the bath fountain.”

  “Yes, of course. Give my regards to Miss Pecunia.”

  “Yes, Lord.” The dwarves departed, but Harla remained behind.

  “Did Calian tell them about the table?” Jasper asked, scratching his head in bewilderment at the simple marvel of carpentry and dwarven nature magic before him. Harla smiled.

  “We dwarves have sharp hearing, Lord. The Treemother blessed us with keen senses to navigate the forests. Some of my kin overheard, though did not intend to pry in doing so. They are eager to show their gratitude and respect.” She approached the table beside him and ran her fingers over the runes.

  “You’ll have to teach me what it says sometime,” Jasper grinned. Harla looked up and gave a soft smile.

  “It is flowery exposition on your arrival, the changes that came with it, and the good that has come of your rule.”

  “Well, I can hardly bear all the praise,” Jasper muttered, his cheeks heating. “I’m not the only one working.”

  “They know that, and it is not written in such a way as to make it seem so. You will grow to understand.” Jasper realized she had slipped into dwarvish, and he understood her.

  “Hopefully, it will be soonest rather than later,” he said haltingly.

  “Sooner” she corrected, grinning. “You are making good progress, Lord.”

  “I’ve had lots of time to listen and being immersed in the language certainly has helped. Having time to practice and not look foolish is a different matter.”

  “It will come,” she nodded confidently. Harla glanced out the window at the falling sun and sighed. “I must return to the kitchens, or my niece will have burnt the pie. Until dinner, Lord Jasper.” She bowed and departed, leaving him to look at the table.

  “Absolutely amazing,” Jasper whispered to himself, running his fingers over the wood again.

  ???

  Northern Cryptonia, between the Hollow Mountain and the Tower, Ground Plane

  Elle swung her long saber with gritted teeth. It was the fifth time she had been ambushed by goblins. The damned things were everywhere, and she had decided this particular group would serve well as an outlet for her ire. Summoning her abilities, she formed a claw with one hand and made a downward pulling motion. Four of the creatures sank to mid-thigh straight into the frozen ground and she promptly cleaved heads from shoulders. Others behind her screeched in shock and anger, charging the mounted knight with their crude iron weapons.

  Elle nudged Granite in the side, and her huge mount kicked out with his hind legs. He missed one enemy, but one massive hoof connected with another’s chest. Death was instantaneous. The warhorse’s iron-shod hoof crushed bone and pulped vital organs, sending the goblin’s limp corpse tumbling backwards into his comrades. Elle considered riding into the creatures before her, but she had outfitted Granite for a diplomatic mission, not for war. His chest, shoulders, sides, and flanks were horribly naked to the enemy’s swords and arrows beneath the silk caparison bearing the Hollow Mountain’s crest.

  Were she on solid stone or the goblins a lesser number, she could dismount and send Granite away while engaging them. As it was, Elle could not bring herself to simply ride away and leave them to harass whomever they came across next. Additionally, she was honor-bound as a knight of the Mountain to protect the land and its people from any threat.

  ‘These bastards certainly qualify,’ she thought with no small amount of irritation. An arrow rang off her helmet and brought her rudely back to the present. Elle narrowed her eyes at the offending archer who at least had the good sense to quail under her gaze. He shakily drew another arrow and was preparing to shoot again when a snow-covered boulder fell from the sky, crushing him into dark green and bright red paste. Elle lowered her gauntleted hand, feeling the magai leeching from her with its every use. Even Stone Knights could be worn down. She resolved not to use her magic further unless the need was very great. Hurling large rocks was impressive and satisfying but grew tiring. She rolled her wrist and brought her saber up, grimacing.

  “If you want to kill me, you’re going to have to earn it, cannibal monsters!” She legged Granite forward to meet the diminutive creatures.

  They stood just over waist high to the average man, with dark green skin and sharp, angular faces. Their eyes were dark, beady things, full of hate and aggression. Goblin teeth were more like the fangs of a carnivorous sea creature, with several rows one after the other. There were a few dozen beasts closing in around Elle, and she had just about had enough goblins for that day.

  She had mostly given up attempting to figure out why and how the monsters had gained access to the forests near the Hollow Mountain. It should not be, yet here they were. Perhaps they had snuck their way north through the Orc States? No, surely the orcs would not have allowed such a thing. They had been at peace with the stone elves and the Tower for many years, and they strove to maintain that peace. Ultimately, it did not matter. They stood between a Stone Knight and her goal. They would either be moved or destroyed; and could not be left to cause harm elsewhere, so that really left only one option.

  Elle raised her sword and let out a fierce cry. Granite reared and pawed the air. Theatrics or not, the image of an elven war mount and his rider with a wetted blade was an intimidating sight. She fell upon the goblins again. Her sword lashed out like a silver serpent, claiming life and limb in equal measure. It was not a quick fight, but it was a decisive one. Elle was not certain she killed all that had come, but there were more than a score of bodies in the snow. The knight sighed and her shoulders sagged. She was nearly to Snow Fort, and then she could rest.