The next day we reached the outer border of Dwarvenlands. A lush land of forested hills, wide rivers and high mountain peaks.

Dwarves were two heads shorter than an average Vetulonian. Most of them had beautiful gray or blue eyes, red hair and pointy noses. Red hair was a rarity in Helena. Due to their extreme physical similarities, many of them sought to express their individuality through wardrobe and makeup. Some wore togas and tunics, others simple trousers or dresses. Some wore no makeup at all, while others painted their whole faces.

Their bodies were well proportioned and they moved with grace, even more so than Elves. They walked as if they were gliding through the air. Their agility made them fast at running, they could easily outrun a rabbit! They were also exceptional climbers. They could climb better than mountain goats!

This unearthly grace, along with the unique red hair, made them disliked in most of Helena. Especially within the borders of Porosia and the League. I think the hatred was due to envy. It almost always is.

The laws of their kingdom were based on the honor-system. They regarded honor as the highest “currency” one could trade with. If you did a favor for a Dwarf, he would never forget it. That made them easy to deal with.

They were ruled by an elected king or queen along with nobility. Where honor rules, order follows, so there was little to no corruption in Dwarvenlands. They worshiped the Father and the Mother gods, very strict, but fair deities.

The Dwarves disliked our Elixir. The Elixir made one's thoughts, actions – even morals – fluid. That didn't sit well with their honor-system, which could be stiff and quite harsh.

After we climbed the first hill, ascending away from the vast plain, we encountered a wide stone road. The sun shined strong and the fallen snow of the past week was now in retreat. On the side of the road stood a small garrison with five Dwarf soldiers. Near the garrison, on a tall pole, a Dwarf flag danced with the wind: a white mountain goat with gold horns, painted on a black background. The soldiers were armed with spears and wore chain mails. No helmets on their heads. Two of them had painted symbols on their faces. They greeted us with cheer.

“Vetulonians! Welcome!” said one of the soldiers, while others observed us with friendly curiosity.

“Thank you soldier,” said Tiberius.

“I hope you had safe travels?”

“A few obstacles, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“That is good. Do you need anything, supplies?”

“No, thank you, we’ll manage with what he have and resupply at Metis. We must be on our way now. Your king awaits us.”

“Well, I do hope you bear his majesty good news?”

“Some good, some bad,” Tiberius smiled, “Goodbye.”

“Good travels, my Lord,” the Dwarf bowed as did his comrades. Only then the guards noticed the three (two had died) legionaries on stretches. But they said nothing.

When we left them far behind I asked Tiberius:

“How come you didn’t tell them about the Orcs? Don’t you feel they should know? There are merely five of them, if the Orcs attack they’d have no chance.”

“That is true, but we must not incite panic among the population. Nothing spreads confusion more than gossip. And they’re on top of the hill where they have a good view of the surrounding area. They’d spot an enemy well in time… First I must talk to the king, tell him what happened. He can then dispatch a newsletter across the realm, warning the people and strengthening the borders.”

I looked towards the south and sighed. Vetulonia was two hundred leagues away. It felt good to be so near home. Even the air smelled similar. I kept to myself during those two days it took us to reach the capitol, called Metis. After I ate dinner I didn’t linger around the fire like I’d used to. Instead I retreated to my tent and slept, or at least tried to.

During those two days we passed by countless villages. In every single one of them they greeted us with cheers and songs.

The capitol was quite impressive. After Dwarves had settled this area, they tried to recreate their former home. So the city was almost an exact replica of Megalopolis, although five times smaller in scale. Like Megalopolis, about a third of the city was inside the mountain. Two aqueducts, built by Vetulonians, supplied the fresh water.

Before the gray city walls we were greeted by a captain of the guard, sitting on a giant mountain goat. When Dwarves left Megalopolis the eagles they had taken with them died off. Why, no one knows – but in their new home they encountered giant mountain goats with brass colored horns. They named them Goldhorns. It didn’t take them long to domesticate these fine beasts, capable of climbing the steepest cliffs.

“Welcome, Vetulonians. I hope you had safe travels?”

“More or less,” smiled Tiberius.

“Good. I am Markus Silverhand, captain of the king’s guard. You have wounded?”

“They’ll be alright,” said Tiberius.

“Very well then. My king awaits you in his castle. If you please…”

We entered the city through the main gates. We passed street by street, rising through the outer levels to the top, where the king’s castle stood. The people on the street waved and cheered, offering us sweets and small gifts. I got some candy, a winter flower of some sorts and a dark red scarf and some blue gloves. I thanked them for every gift and tried to appear happy, waving people back and smiling. But on the inside I was full of grief and sorrow. When we finally reached the top and passed through the last walls we were met by the king himself. He was an older man with a serene expression on his face. Like most Dwarves he had gray eyes that pierced right through you. His hair was long and white with a bit of red still fighting for its survival. His beard was the same. He had a crooked nose, as if it had been broken many times. He wore a long robe of gold and silver color. The basis of the crown was silver, with golden points. Beneath each point was a blue gem.

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He and Tiberius embraced each other like two long lost brothers.

“Where is Julia?” the king asked and frowned.

“Let’s go inside… Talk,” Tiberius tilted his head towards the castle.

“Of course. Are you hungry? Forgive me for the poor welcome, it’s the Mother’s feast, half of the city is celebrating in the woods. I dismissed most of the servants and the guard as well.”

“That's fine.”

“Commander! Show the legionaries to their quarters!”

“Yes, your majesty!”

“Tiberius, I see you have wounded. Come, let’s talk.”

The king ignored us youngsters, which I did find a bit rude. We followed him to his castle, of which one third was in the mountain itself. We passed through a large, not very well lit hallway, to his throne room. The throne room was large, but quite dark. There we sat down at a round table that stood in one of the corners.

“So, where is Julia?”

“In the Capita Hills, right before we reached the Northern Plain, we were ambushed by about one hundred and fifty Orcs. We managed to repel the attack, but lost fourteen people. One of them was Julia,” Tiberius answered with an unusually high pitched voice. The king went pale and his eyes became watery. He sighed and with a close fist he hit the table.

“Bloody Orcs! So deep south? How did they get around my northern rangers? And my northern forts?”

“One does wonder about that, yes.”

“I am deeply sorry, Tiberius. She will be missed. She was one of my dearest friends and my late wife adored her. Oh, poor Julia… Her life was so hard, yet despite the rage she had brewing inside of her, she always put others first. That is true courage, true honor! I always admired her for that. Oh, life, such an odd and absurd tale… It’s true, as you Vetulonians say, everything flows, nothing remains. I always found it hard to see comfort in these words. To me they sounded terrifying, depressive almost. But now, when I’m old and on my way to the invisible realm of Father and Mother... Where my wife awaits me, my family… Now I do find some form of contentment in it.”

Tiberius kept quiet for a few moments. Then he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them again. He turned the conversation to the rebel lords of Porosia, who were now gone. To the alliance with Alena cities and the Elves. And to the idiotic state of the Megalopolis republic and the passive stance of Sodomirs.

“The Sodomir people are fools, incapable of any deeper thought, incapable of evolving. If they weren’t such good riders, nobody would know they even exist. And Megalopolis... Those half-breed cousins of ours, a bunch of hypocrites, all of them! But nonetheless, their wealth, all those rich mines... If the League get their hands on them they would be able to abolish taxation for their citizens. Fund their further conquests.”

“Precisely,” Tiberius nodded.

“So what to do, what to do, what to do?” the king asked himself and started tapping the table with his fingers. After a few moments passed he turned to Tiberius and asked:

“Any thoughts?”

“First order of business is to establish how Orcs passed by your border watch and rangers. Was this a fluke on their part or is another invasion upon us?”

“Surely that can’t be it! In the last war we almost made them go extinct.”

“Nonetheless, we need to know what’s happening on the northern borders.”

“Agreed. I’ll dispatch an expedition of rangers to the Badlands, to feel things out. I’ll also secure the borders by doubling the troops.”

“Vetulonia can be of aid. We’ll send you two thousand legionaries to be under your direct command. Keep them well fed,” Tiberius mused.

“Thank you, Tiberius. What about the east then?”

“The best thing is to wait. In spring, the League will invade Porosia, I’m quite sure of that. And the League will prevail, it will be a swift victory. Consequently, the Megalopolis idiots will declare war on the League. They too will get annihilated before winter along with the horse people. We can’t do anything about that. Any preliminary moves on our part would flare up the fire even more. Hopefully the League will run out of breath after swallowing three realms.”

“If they don’t?”

“Well… Then we’ll deal with it and either prevail or perish.”

“Hah, there it is, the famous Vetulonian indifference! You think you made a mistake by tying the fate of your people to those of Alena? Their military is quite weak and the Elves are very far away.”

“No, the alliance will keep the League at bay. At least for some time.”

“I wouldn’t have done that. Nor would Julia, I think. Am I wrong?”

“You’re not. She was against it, arguing Vetulonia must keep to itself.”

“But Tiberius can’t keep to himself, can’t he?” the king taunted Tiberius with a slight sarcasm, though without ill will.

“I guess not,” Tiberius smiled, but it was not a happy smile.

“You always did have a low tolerance for injustice. I remember the first time I ever saw you. I had some business in Lux with your predecessor... We were walking down the streets of Lux, idly chatting, when we saw a young you beating an older man senselessly. I was later told it was some mean drunk who forced himself on some tavern girl. You almost killed him and went to the courts for it, the Lord later told me. Only your reputation – one might call it fame – you brought from the island prevented a more severe punishment for your lack of self-control. But, although a vile response on your part, I always found something dignifying in it. Even more so, I would have done the same.”

“I know injustice well.”

“You do, but not more than Julia. Yet, she remained serene and objective despite the terror she endured.”

“Well… There’s also another way to look at it.”

“There is?” king smiled.

“Perhaps terror was what kept Julia at bay. And she masked this terror of hers with pretend objectivity.”

“And perhaps you mask your rage with pretend nobility.”

“That may very well be so. Whatever it may be, I cannot stand idly while people are basically enslaved and treated as livestock. And where evil that nurtures this vile treatment of fellow men is seeking a way to expand its tentacles.”

“Listen, Tiberius… Vetulonia came to our aid whenever we needed help. When we first settled these lands, you were supplying us with food and medicine. When the Orcs invaded, there you were, again, fighting by our side. You helped us built this city, the aqueducts… And you are a dear friend to me. The Dwarves will join your alliance. But know that it may very well be the end of us all.”

“We’ll see. Bur even if we perish... At least we will go down with a sword in our hands, not hiding under beds from cowards who rule with tyranny.”