Still, there weren’t many creatures abroad in Gal’azu tougher than the dwarf and the ogre, and they made stubborn progress, regardless of the weather. There was little talk. There was an awkwardness between them after the events of Mer Khazer. The fact that the wind soon stole away one’s words was a fine excuse not to bother speaking, and after a day’s travel in such conditions, they were ready for sleep.
Several days passed like this until one evening, with a fire going in the shelter of a cave, they spoke at last.
‘Raya wrote us,’ said Og, warming his hand by the fire. ‘Said there was another dwarf in Mer Khazer, who rescued you.’
‘Aye. Maurin was in Mer Khazer, recently come back from a dungeon crawl of his own. He sprung us from Hassletoff’s cell.’
‘Then what?’ Dog asked.
‘What do you mean, then what? Then nothing.’
‘Wondered how you ended up working for the Dark Lord.’
‘Humph. Could ask you the same question.’
‘It was made clear we weren’t welcome in Mer Khazer,’ said Grim. ‘We went back to our dungeon for a while. But I’d been given a taste of something more after our time with the Bureau. I persuaded my brothers to leave.’
‘You fancied the life of a hero, eh? How did that work out for you?’ Gurin asked, not hiding the bitterness from his voice.
‘We ended up in the Swamp.’
The dwarf laughed at that—a surprising sound, but a welcome one.
‘And from there, to Fell Towers,’ Grim added, leaving out the role of Brother Kane.
‘They sent us into Varena,’ said Dog, taking up the story. ‘Eliminating any threats to the Dark Lord.’
Dog said it with a note of pride, but Grim didn’t need to look at his other brother to know there would be shame on his face.
‘Aye. Been doing similar work as you, down in the south,’ said Gurin quietly. ‘From heroes to villains, eh? Not a comfortable step to take.’
‘Surely you had other options,’ said Og. It was part statement, part question.
‘Of course I did. I could have left Gal’azu. There’s always work to be had in the mines of the Ferric Hills. But this old dwarf is too stuck in his ways. Too used to his independence and too fond of swinging his axe. I don’t pretend there was any honour in the choice I made.’
‘And what did the Dark Lord demand of you to test your loyalty?’ asked Og.
‘That’s between me and him, don’t you think?’ asked Gurin. ‘I don’t reveal the identities of other henchmen and I don’t ask them the price they paid.’ The dwarf pulled his blanket about him. ‘No doubt you think it strange that I stick to these rules when I’ve broken every other principle I ever held. But there it is.’
Gurin was ever one for taking the lead, and Og-Grim-Dog was content to allow the dwarf to decide on the route. It therefore came as something of a surprise when he announced that they were closing in on the meeting point.
‘Dorwich City,’ he said, pointing to the outline of a large settlement that was almost obscured by the sheets of rain that continued to pelt them mercilessly.
‘Hmm, that name sounds familiar,’ said Dog.
‘We were chased by the reeve of Dorwich City and his posse,’ Grim reminded him. ‘A man by the name of Deston. We fought them outside Mer Khazer.’
‘I don’t recall a fight outside Mer Khazer,’ claimed Og.
‘Well, it happened,’ said Grim impatiently. ‘Only last year.’
‘There’s not going to be trouble, is there?’ Gurin asked. ‘They tend to take law and order quite seriously in Dorwich.’
‘Not sure,’ Grim admitted. ‘When we parted, the reeve indicated that we had an understanding. That said, he did have Og’s pike at his throat at the time.’
Gurin sighed. ‘That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence. But there’s little point in trying to sneak around the city with a three-headed ogre in tow. We’ll just have to see what kind of reception we get.’
Dorwich had substantial city walls. It told Grim two things. First, the city was able to defend itself. Second, there were things inside that were worth defending. Rising above the walls was the spire of the cathedral. No doubt some of the things worth defending were in there.
The guards at the city gates all made the same kind of face as the dwarf and the ogre joined the queue for entry into Dorwich. It was an expression that said they weren’t sure what was about to happen, but they understood that the odds of it being a good thing were low.
‘You might as well just wait to one side,’ one of the older guards hollered at them. ‘We’re going to need someone with authority to have their say before we let you in.’
It was a reasonable enough request, and the two henchmen waited patiently as the human visitors to the city were waved through.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Grim at last. He instantly recognised the figure of Deston, the reeve of the city, who had arrived on the scene. He recognised the muscular frame, the aura of confidence that comes from other men doing exactly what you tell them to do. ‘Crunch time.’
Deston spoke briefly with his guards and then approached. He smiled at them both.
‘We meet again, ogre. And this time you have a dwarf for a companion. Rather unusual visitors, even for a cosmopolitan place such as this.’
‘We’re just passing through,’ Gurin commented.
‘Indeed. I have been told to expect your arrival. You are welcome in Dorwich. Though please make sure that just passing through is all you end up doing.’
‘Will do,’ said Grim.
Deston waved at his guards and they stood aside to let the pair through.
‘You may want to visit The Cracked Nuts while you’re here,’ the reeve called after them. ‘Down by the river.’
‘The Cracked Nuts,’ Gurin repeated. ‘Got it.’
They made their way into Dorwich with urgency, as if they didn’t trust the reeve not to change his mind. Stares met them as they walked past, but Og-Grim-Dog was used to worse than that.
‘I’ve been told to expect your arrival, he said,’ Grim muttered. ‘Does that mean Deston is working for the Dark Lord, too?’
‘Who knows?’ said Gurin. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’
‘Is anyone not working for the Dark Lord?’ Og wondered rhetorically.
Finding the river was easy enough. It was busy, the city’s position on the waterway tempting traders to come with wares from all over Gal’azu. There were docks for loading and unloading, all busy with men carrying items that had just been bought or were being delivered for sale. Elsewhere, manufactories churned out textiles and other goods in huge numbers, that could be packed onto barges and sold for profit. They walked past a branch of Discount Dungeon Supplies, that appeared to be doing a brisk trade amongst foreigners and citizens alike.
With all this industry and so many people working in such a small space, it was no surprise that several inns were able to flourish with a riverside location. Gurin and Og-Grim-Dog marched along the riverbank until they found the one they were after.
The Cracked Nuts was quiet and nearly empty, but it looked like the kind of place that would get very busy in the evening.