Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

The dwarf's eyes bulged. His companion stopped rubbing his specs and looked ready to faint.

"Ate? Ate! We ain't no rakkes," the dwarf cried. "We just killed one of the critters ourselves."

Konowa felt the blood drain from his face. Could it have been the fourth rakke? Why would it come here?

"Where is the body?" he asked.

The dwarf spat a stream of crute juice at Jir, who started growling and sank down on his haunches, never a good sign. "Call off your beast and maybe I'll tell you, elfie."

"You'll tell him now, Private," the Duke of Rakestraw thundered, his voice a hammer poised to fall.

"Colonel, sir! I didn't see you there what with this monster attempting to eat a couple of Her Majesty's finest, and if I may say so, sir, bravest siggers in service in the far-flung reaches of Her Empire and the dominions it contains."

"As wagon nannies for the Outer Territories Trading Company?" Jaal asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. He looked over at Konowa and rolled his eyes. "Private! While we're still young, and you're in one piece."

"Right," the dwarf said, carefully saluting the Duke. "As I was about to say, we burned the brute, sir, sent it back to the fires it came from, nothing but ash and bone now. Vital service we performed, no doubt about it." He finished, casting a glance at Konowa as he said the last part.

"Did it say anything?" Konowa asked, his hopes of solving this diminishing now.

"No offense, sir, but we weren't exactly interested in engaging it in chit-chat," the dwarf said, his eyebrows high with indignation.

"I think this has gone on long enough," Jaal whispered. Konowa looked around and saw that a crowd had started to gather again. He nodded.

"Curb that mutt of yours and let's go inside," Jaal said, taking his hand off of the hilt of Wolf's Tooth. "You're still a disruption to good order and conduct." He turned and went into the tent.

"Jir, heel," Konowa ordered, pointing to a spot by the tent flaps. To his immense surprise, Jir obeyed, slinking away from the frightened soldiers, but never turning his back to them.

"I suggest you two take a bath and get rid of the smell," Konowa said, addressing the dwarf and his bespectacled companion. He stared in turn at the other soldiers, watching until they suddenly remembered they had better places to be.

"Look who's talkin'," he heard the dwarf mutter, pulling his counterpart after him. They edged away from the tent before breaking into a run in the opposite direction.

Konowa let out a sigh and stepped into the tent after the Duke. The dГ©cor was typical Jaal; sparse, ordered and without a whiff of pretension. A simple wood-framed cot occupied a quarter of the tent. A saddle, its leather polished to a parade-ground finish, its stirrups cinched tight and high, sat at the bottom end. At the head of the cot was a folding wooden chair, with Jaal's blue cavalry jacket draped over its back and his red-crested helmet perched on top of that. A second pair of riding boots, a small travel chest, a board laid across two wicker ammunition crates for a table, and a lantern hanging from the center pole completed the furnishings.

"Being a Duke doesn't appear to have that many advantages," Konowa said, admiring the cobwebs in a corner.

A look that Konowa couldn't interpret crossed his friend's face, but it was quickly replaced with a smile.

"And neither does being a savage, I see," Jaal replied, "well, except for your pet out there." He offered Konowa the chair while he sat down on the cot, its canvas sheet sagging to just an inch above the ground. "I seem to recall you having something less than a tender affinity for the forest. вЂFilthy, nasty place filled with bugs' was your usual refrain, was it not?"

The smile on Konowa's face lessened. "Things changed."

Jaal nodded. "They did at that. Well, you're back now. The whole camp knows it, and very soon the entire army will know it. Trouble is definitely in the wind. I only just received a messenger from Marshal Ruwl about detaining you on behalf of no less a personage than the Prince himself. Damn me though if I know what's going on. They're both due here in a few days on some silly inspection tour, so I guess you'll find out then."

"You mean we will," Konowa said.

For a long moment the Duke said nothing, and Konowa wondered if Jaal had heard him.

"I'm going hunting to the west," Jaal said at last.

It had been a while, but Konowa could tell his friend was troubled. "Orcs? You'll be back in a fortnight. They aren't our problem and you know it. I thought I'd put an end to Her ideas in this part of the world, but it seems ridding the world of one of Her servants only got me a whole lot of trouble."

Jaal smiled at his friend. "You did the world a favor when you killed the Viceroy, I'm sorry I wasn't able to-"

Konowa waved him off. "I wasn't going to have you throw away your career for something I did. Besides, I know what you did for my boys. If some in the royal court had had their way, the Iron Elves would have been scattered throughout the army. You kept them together."

Now it was the Duke's turn to motion Konowa to stop. "I'm not sure it was much of a favor. They sent them to garrison the forts in the southern wastes across the Midea Sea. Just sand, camels, and not a tree for hundreds of miles. Pretty damn harsh, especially for elves born in the forest."

"Not elves," Konowa said, "Iron Elves. We don't have quite the same affinity for trees as the others. Still, I imagine it's been rough for them."

"They won't hate you, if that's what you're thinking. You did what had to be done, they know that."

Konowa bowed his head. "Maybe. I've had a year to think about it myself. I sometimes wonder…" He lifted his head, pushing those dark thoughts from his mind. "Enough of that. So, I hear there's a new Viceroy in town."

Jaal nodded, but did not smile. "Faltinald Gwyn, career weasel, pardon me, diplomat. Invited me over to his palace the other night. He claims the orcs are meddling in magics and other sorcery that they can't possibly understand, in league with Her and those rakke things."

"Orcs working with an elf-witch? Is he mad?" That was about as likely as a dwarf voluntarily shaving his beard.

"I don't know. What I do know is I'm leaving and taking the cavalry with me just as you return. There's unrest in the north that the Viceroy's convinced is the start of a rebellion, but he's ordered me west." Jaal winked at Konowa. "So naturally I sent some scouts up north to check things out, but they won't be back before I have to leave."

"Maybe he's a treasure hunter like the last one," Konowa said, his fists clenching as an image of the last Viceroy flashed through his mind. The elf had disgraced them all-if Konowa had to do it all over again, it would have ended the same.

"This one is full weasel. I don't know what he's up to," Jaal said, this time looking away from Konowa's glance.

Konowa smiled at his old friend. There was a wary, sad look to Jaal. Did he feel guilty about what had happened to him? Jaal had always been like an older brother, even though Konowa had decades on him. Jaal had threatened to resign his commission and go with Konowa after his court-martial-and Konowa knew he would have if he had let him. Alone in the forest, Konowa had been the one to carry guilt around, with only Jir by his side; never judging, never condemning. He would never have the bengar's stoicism, but he could sure as hell match its loyalty.

"You have been more friend to me than any elf has a right to," Konowa said. He winked at Jaal, spread his arms out wide, closed his eyes, and began speaking in a deep voice. " Lim rokna re rika, ti rokna se rika, gev esig lo werta oxul, ki rika yinja."

Jaal shook his head, sending his red hair flying about his face. "I'm a bit rusty. May my cullions be squeezed by a maiden fair?"