Page 76 of Silverbow (The Godsung Saga #1)

thirty-eight

Liam

“ L and ho!”

The call drew Liam to the deck rail. Thank the bloody light.

Aboard The Seabird , he’d managed to lose Enya all over again, even if she was right there.

As the week dragged on, Liam was fairly sure he was losing his mind too.

A wind he couldn’t feel kept the sail taught, and the mists…

there were things lurking in the mist. Or there were until Oryn bloody Brydove glowered at them enough that even they found somewhere else to be. He wanted off this bloody ship.

In the distance, hazy blue peaks rose up out of the shimmering expanse of sea.

Boots stomped all around the deck as men readied mooring lines and fenders.

Captain Bailer had long since given over command to Elred’s Eagle but he stood by the helm wearing a scowl that almost rivaled the demi-elf’s.

There had been an uproarious argument over this landing.

The captain had insisted they could not dock at Wayforge and the demi-elves, whose names Liam had to relearn, insisted they could.

“Men can’t dock anywhere but Shorewatch or Stonescale!” Captain Bailor had shouted.

“Dock where you’re told!” Bade barked .

Colm tried to smooth things over with only moderate success. “We can land in Wayforge, Captain. We’ll see to it that you have the supplies you need before you push off again.”

Enya appeared at the rail beside him, her face less gray than it had been the last time he took a good look at it, but he didn’t think the way she squinted was only because of the sun.

“How are you?” He asked tightly. Her arm was still bound in a sling despite Oryn’s healing. He’d reluctantly experienced it himself for the blow he’d taken to the ribs. It was bloody brilliant, but Liam wasn’t sure it was worth brushing against a wielder.

“Fine. And you?”

He wasn’t entirely sure. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and cast around for an answer that wouldn’t drive a wedge in the gap between them. “Bloody glad to be getting off this boat. The mist has teeth, En. Teeth .”

She furrowed her brow and looked out at the sun gilded sea. “You sound like Wil Sheahan telling tall tales.”

“Cross my heart,” Liam answered. “Teeth, I’m telling you.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

He shook his head in disbelief. As the mountains drew nearer, the blue turned to browns and grays, and brilliant white caps stretched up to pierce the clouds. The high peaks of Tuminzar made Greenridge look like mole hills. The wonder in Enya’s stare told him she was thinking the same.

“The adventure we always dreamed of,” Liam mused. “Did you ever think we’d make it this far, En?”

She huffed. “Do you think the heroes of song ever got homesick?”

He considered. “I imagine when they first set eyes on the beasts of the Vale, they bloody wanted to go home.” A slight smile flitted across her face and it reminded him of a question he’d been pondering for months. “Do you think dragons get lonely?”

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.

They wore 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!”

“Dreamwalker!”

“Fire bringer!”

Liam eyed a little girl who darted forward with a bouquet of flowers. She shyly offered them to Enya who bent to take them from her. She tucked a blossom behind the girl’s ear before she scampered back to her mother’s skirts.

“Make way!” Master Graniteforge boomed even though the dwarves left plenty of room for their party to pass. “Leave the Prince be!”

“Is it always like this?” Liam asked as he found himself left alone with Aiden in the stable behind Wayforge’s only inn. He eyed the stalls that looked made for ponies, not hulking giants like Arawelo or Kiawa.

“You mean the fawning?” The fire wielder asked. “Oh, yes. ”

Bloody wonderful. By the time Liam ducked through the back door of the cozy little inn, a serving woman was pouring amber colored liquid into thumb sized glasses at the high table occupied by Enya and the demi-elves.

As he slid onto a stone stool, he realized it was only high compared to the shorter, squatter furniture made for dwarves.

Liam settled into a chair as Bade raised a glass. All eyes fell on Elred’s Eagle.

“To Renley Ryerson,” the dark eyed demi-elf growled. Liam held his breath, watching Enya’s face. “Someone really ought to give the man a bloody medal.”

“For what?” Enya asked, holding her own glass aloft.

“For keeping you alive, Silverbow. I’m not sure even Nimala could manage that on their own.”

Enya huffed and threw back the drink. Liam tipped his own glass back and found himself coughing and spluttering as smoke seeped from his nose. Aiden thumped him on the back. The liquid seared on the way down, bringing tears to his eyes.

“Best leave the stonebrew to the folk with hair on their chests,” he sniggered.

“What the bloody hell is that?” He rasped.

“Simdeni’s piss, if you ask me,” Aiden answered. He arched a brow at the dwarves around them. “But they get rather offended if you don’t take what they offer.”

Colm leaned on the table, his face grave as he took in Liam and Enya. “When it comes to dining in Tuminzar, it’s extremely rude to refuse a course. Blood feuds have been started for less.”

Blood feuds? Liam furrowed his brow. Were the dwarves as mad as the demi-elves?

“Pace yourselves.”

Liam understood the warning as soon as the platters began to appear from the kitchens.

The round-faced serving women beamed at their party like Oryn was a bloody god as they deposited tray after tray fit for a feast. After more than a week of salt beef and what the sailors called hardtack, Liam ate greedily.

He watched Enya do the same and despite his warning, Colm tipped extra helpings onto her plate.

Aiden held up his mug and a serving girl bustled to refill it.

“Traveling with royalty has its perks,” the fire wielder muttered to Liam .