He'd promised to be gone before first light in the morning and intended to keep his word.
Chapter Four
"We'll leave the city soon."
Horse snorted and the sound echoed through the mostly empty streets.
"Well, if you didn't want to tolerate my untenable hours, perhaps you should have remained in retirement. I asked constantly but you said no, and here you are, complaining."
The beast whinnied softly and tossed his mane.
"You can't say my schedule is worse than the mares’.'" Skharr stopped and turned to face his long-time friend. "We're going to help some folk who helped us in the past. Well, they helped me, but that means you by association. And they will pay for the help as well, so if you stop complaining, we can get on with it. You'll cease your protests anyway once we're out in the open country. You're the odd kind of horse who likes to walk long distances."
When the stallion made no answer to that, the barbarian began to advance into the alley in search of the telltale signs of one of the entrances he'd been looking for.
His gaze flicked around his surroundings to ensure there were no people in the area before he tapped on the wall in the rhythm and sequence he'd committed to memory. After a moment, he shook his head, moved to another section of the wall, and repeated the process.
"I have no mind for stone," Skharr muttered when he heard Horse mocking him.
This time, the rock echoed the sound of his knock and he could hear movement on the other side. After a few moments, the wall began to move aside to reveal a handful of armed and armored dwarves waiting for him. They were a little surprised to see him but motioned for him to follow them.
"The beast must needs go through another path," one of the guards said.
"We go together."
"No, you don't understand. The tunnels you will travel through are not large enough for him. He'll be escorted to where you'll leave from."
Skharr turned to where Horse stood with his head tilted. "Will that be a problem?"
The stallion snorted and tossed his mane.
"He'll go with you," he translated. "If you have any apples to spare, he would appreciate it."
"Are you…are you speaking to the horse?" one of the dwarves asked.
"No, I am a madman who speaks to himself. Of course I'm speaking to Horse. He says he'll go with you and would appreciate any apples you might have to spare. And he'll be a little grumpier than usual due to having to begin his day this early, so I would suggest you find some apples, or perhaps carrots, to appease his mood."
The dwarves nodded, tried to not look skeptical, and failed desperately. Still, they led him away down another path that appeared to have been designed specifically for horses. The barbarian wasn't sure why, unless the dwarves needed a few to carry their burdens. Perhaps they needed larger horses too, which explained the size of the other path Horse was taking.
None of the dwarves seemed overly talkative, and Skharr could understand their lack of trust in a large outsider. He'd dealt with their kind for most of his life and they tended to be wary of outsiders, even those they were supposedly on good terms with. The DeathEaters had been on good terms with the dwarves in the mountains, but only a few were ever invited to spend time among the clans under the mountains.
It seemed like the same rules applied here. He was a trusted client and a business partner but not close enough that any of them would feel comfortable with him in the subterranean city without having their hands close their weapons. It was understandable, of course. DeathEaters were generally far more hostile than he was.
They reached what looked like a small gate to the underground city, and he could see that he wasn't the only one leaving the area. Throk appeared at the head of a small train of donkeys and a group of his kin, while Brahgen stood near them in front of a donkey that was most likely his.
"Skharr, you've arrived!" the master smith roared and his voice echoed through the chamber. "I thought we would have to leave and have someone else explain the situation for you."
The warrior nodded and noticed that Horse now approached. It begged the question of why they hadn't simply used the same route the horse had, given that it took the same amount of time to reach their destination. More to the point, it explained why they hadn't been able to get Horse an apple or two yet, which meant he would have to dig into his supplies to feed the beast's addiction with.
"What situation?" Skharr asked and patted the stallion on the neck.
"Ah, well, we had already planned to send a caravan to our kin in the mountains and would thus send your gift to The Clan with them. Given the value of the weapon, however, I would trust none other to deliver it than my own hands."
The barbarian raised an eyebrow. "That is certainly appreciated."
The dwarf waved dismissively. "You spent a king's ransom to forge the weapon and I've been due a visit to my homeland after decades abroad, so it worked out rather well, to my mind. With that said, I thought you should have a little something to offset some of the expense you've gone through."
The dwarf looked around at one of the others, who attempted to secure what looked like an ax on Horse's saddle.
The beast almost bucked and kicked him for his efforts and Skharr approached immediately to stand between Horse and him.
"There is no need to be offended," he rumbled and took the package.
"I wasn't."
"I wasn't talking to you." The barbarian hefted the wrapped weapon. "What is this?"
"An ax. While not quite of the quality of the one you commissioned, it’s a decent weapon. I thought it would be a good idea to avoid any knowledge that we travel with something quite so valuable into the mountains. As such, your weapon is kept safe with me, while those who might have thievery in their hearts think you carry it."
"And leave the murderous bastards for us to deal with, yes?"
Throk chuckled. "You two will travel faster and will therefore be more difficult to find than a caravan. Even so, you will discover that you are more equipped to handle a sustained attack than we."
Skharr hooked the ax into his saddlebags and glanced to where Brahgen had mounted his donkey. The youth looked uncomfortable and exceedingly unhappy as the other dwarves began to gather and take their positions in the caravan that would soon leave Verenvan.
He approached the younger dwarf, who was braiding his beard nervously although he stopped as he approached.
"Are you ready to head out then?" Brahgen asked as the barbarian clicked his tongue to call Horse to him.
"We will head out west with the caravan for a short distance before we take our own path," he answered and patted the donkey on the neck. "What is her name?"
"Her?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't know much about her when you climbed on? That's a good way to get your knees kicked in."
"Well… I…it—"
"She."
"She's a donkey."
He nodded and scratched the beast’s forehead. "Her name is Jenny and she would appreciate it if you avoid kicking her."
"What?"