Doogin’s eyes lit up as he looked across the table annd eagerly reached out to shake his hand, “Tis a great honor to meet you, lad!”

Kalos winced from the pressure of the dwarf’s crushing grip on his hand.

“Aye, he’s got heart, too, this one!” Doogin laughed. His face brightened even more than Kalos thought possible when he smiled. Despite his rough, metal-hardened hands and bullish nature, a familiar warmth emanated from him that reminded him of his father.

Kalos was pleased to know that he was in the dwarf’s good graces. He could only imagine what might happen if he suddenly decided to latch hold of him as an enemy.

Doogin nearly yelled with excitement, “Why, I dare the Black King’imself to bust in on us now.”

Kalos' back stiffened. To him it almost sounded like Doogin had actually experienced such a thing before and genuinely wanted to conjure up another such encounter just for the fun of it.

Grimm took a slow drink and glanced down at the table in thought. An uncomfortable, awkward silence swept over them all at once.

The old Warblack took another drink before clearing his throat forcefully. Without warning he slammed his empty mug on the table, wrecking the silence and pressing on toward a better subject.

“Well... So a special gift, eh? Why now, after so many years?” His sideways gaze met Grimm’s reserved expression with concern.

“Well, there's something particularly interesting for us to use now, if you’re willing, of course. It isn’t exactly the kind of thing our beloved king would let fall into the boy's hands if he had any chance of stopping it...” Grimm carefully set his mug down and retrieved a small, black package from somewhere under his jerkin.

Doogin’s eyes narrowed with intrigue as Grimm set the wrappings the Mercari storyteller had given Kalos on the table in front of them. As soon as the metal hit the surface, Doogin’s expression darkened with suspicion and excitement, like a snake could pop out at any moment, not that he could resist the temptation of finding out what was inside even if he wanted to.

Grimm carefully unwrapped the cloth and allowed the flaps to fall open all at once.

The metal immediately arrested Kalos' attention, causing his pupils to dilate at the dull reflections he saw. The effects suddenly vanished just as quickly as they occurred, leaving him stunned over what happened. Fortunately the others didn't notice.

“By heaven’s light,” Doogin gasped. He stared at the metal for several seconds before leaping from his chair, causing it to fly backwards as if a snake really had jumped out at him from underneath the cloth. In a blur, he clamored back downstairs without a word.

Kalos and Grimm both stared after him with the same stupefied expression. They weren’t sure what to do other than take a small drink from their mugs to wash down whatever had just happened.

A loud series of clatters echoed from the room below. Soon, Doogin came bounding back upstairs, hauling an oversized wooden box containing a large assortment of tools in one hand, all of which looked far too heavy for Grimm or Kalos to utilize with any degree of efficiency.

The dwarf nearly tripped over his own feet as he shoved another chair out of the way and dropped the box on the table with a clatter. He jerked two thick, leather gloves out of his belt and shoved his hands inside before retrieving a massive pair of iron pliers nearly as long as his arm from the box.

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Doogin looked at both of them with a crooked expression, as if silently asking permission to continue before doing anything else. Grimm quickly lifted his hands in mock surrender. Within seconds, the dwarf snatched the chunk of metal up with his pliers and ran all the way back across the room before disappearing downstairs yet again.

“Well don’tarry then. Come on!” the blacksmith bellowed from the shadows of the lower room. The two nearly leapt from their seats to follow him downstairs.

An intense wave of heat slammed against Kalos’ face, causing his eyes to squint and hot tears to spill from his eyelids. Before him stood a thoroughly stocked forge built over a thick, unimaginably heavy stone floor. The room was furnished with only a few crudely-built tables, a multitude of strange tools, and only a couple of short benches that seemed to be situated near the walls more for taking breaks rather than accommodating guests.

Near the back of the room was a large, clay oven with a small door that was sitting open while Doogin suspended the metal block over the fire with great care.

“How’d ya come across somethin’ so rare? If the Sultrani knew about this, we’d have assassins after us round ever’corner by week’s end!”

“Maybe we shouldn't admit that out loud, old friend?” Grimm’s dry tone contained a hint of exasperation, but Doogin didn’t seem to notice. “It came to us under most unusual circumstances from a Mercari merchant.”

Doogin spared a quick, troubled glance over one shoulder at them, “Yer lucky this thing asn’t claimed a sacrifice yet, then... The Mercari you say, eh?” He made a quick spitting gesture toward the furnace before a sharp sizzling sound from the heat seemed to only emphasize how poorly he regarded the Mercari merchants.

“I never liked them sorts. Sold me a spot’o minerals long ago’dat very nearly took me arm off when I stoked the fire with’em!”

The sturdy craftsman pulled his pliers back out of the heat, leaving the metal block standing upright inside the furnace. He carefully shut the hatch with his massive pliers before hanging them on a nearby hook to cool down. Kalos noticed a dark red hue and a thin layer of sweat covering the man’s leathery face from across the room.

Doogin didn’t bother to remove the gloves as he stood with his back toward the furnace, “I can’nay believe they’ad somethin like this with’em.” He shook his head, continuing, “Sultrani Ostele’s a vicious wench ya know. She carries numerous curses’n the most terrible bad luck you can imag'n.

“They must’a been takin’it somewhere special. It’s nigh shot, though. Whoer’s buyin it won’t be happy, not’dat I wish blessings on’em er nothing. Aelfain can recruit’em all to be shackled alongside’im for all eternity far as I’m concerned.”

Grimm glanced quickly at Kalos before looking back to Doogin, “That particular bar’s already claimed new blood, though. Maybe that helped it survive a bit longer than usual.”

Doogin stared at Grimm for several seconds before slowly shifting his gaze to Kalos with quirked eyebrows.

“Dat so?”

Doogin briefly opened the hatch and flipped the bar over before turning to face them again.

“Will'ave ta do someting wit it right away, then.” Doogin crossed his leather-coated arms over his chest as he measured them both with his uncomfortably intuitive gaze. “What’ll it be, then?”

Grimm pondered only briefly before replying, “Ostele has traditionally been used to make Sultrani daggers for the Golden King’s family, which just so happens to be the type of weapon Kalos is most proficient with.”

“Alright, its’ettled. A slightly improved Sultrani dagger, then.” Doogin waddled over and slapped the boy on the shoulder, causing him to stumble sideways a little. “You’ll be stayin’ at the Pearl Dancer, I assume?”

“I hadn’t decided yet. Is that the best inn now?”

“Aye. Not jes the best, but the only safe one left for ole farts like us,” Doogin laughed before turning to face the oven again. “Now off with ye! I’ve important work to do.”

#

As they mounted their horses, Kalos finally reached his breaking point, “I don’t understand. It’s like you know everything about this place, like you’ve spent all your life here. And I know nothing at all about it...”

Grimm took a slow, steady breath before backing his horse away from the hitching post with a gentle nudge. He finally seemed to be at a loss for words, and at the most worst time for Kalos' well-being. He thought carefully about how he might respond.

“We have a lot to talk about, Kalos. It won't be an easy conversation. First, let’s get to the inn and get some food while I order my thoughts. Does that sound fair?”

Kalos wanted to know everything. He had so many questions to ask, but if there really was that much to learn, an empty stomach certainly wouldn’t help.

“It does feel like I haven’t eaten in days...”

The riders turned away from the Curv'n Blade to face the sea, which now glowed with the light of a thousand torches rocking back and forth upon the waves.

©2024, K. M. Plum, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED