Don Perrin - Theros Ironfield

“Here is your room, Master Ironfeld. We will retrieve you in the morning.”

Theros climbed inside. The elves closed the door behind him. Theros looked around. The room was clean, neat, with a straw-covered bed on one side and a small stand with a washbasin on the other. A low table beside the bed had a bowl of bread and fruit. He grimaced. He’d lived with the minotaurs long enough to have a taste for meat, but he was well aware that elves rarely ate animal flesh.

He ate, then washed. He had been traveling for the better part of a week, sleeping out in the open. A bed was a luxury.

He slept quite soundly through the night.

Theros was dressed and ready when the knock at the door came. The trapdoor opened. An elf gestured.

“Please follow me, Master Ironfeld.”

The elf walked swiftly down the narrow stairs. Theros, not used to living in tree houses, moved much more clumsily. He had a hard time keeping up.

They crossed back over to the first tree house. The elf once again led Theros up the stairs. The room had not changed in appearance. On the desk was his battle-axe, and beside it, his bag.

“Sit down. Can I offer you some food and drink?” Gilthanas asked. His voice was a shade warmer than it was yesterday, and yesterday, he had not offered Theros anything to eat.

Theros was hungry, though not particularly for more fruit and nuts. But he took care to eat the food and drink the water. He knew enough about elven customs to realize that this made him an official guest and that, as a guest, he was entitled to elven protection for as long as he remained in their company.

As it turned out, the food was surprisingly good. The water tasted as sweet as wine. The nuts and berries were as satisfying as any venison steak.

Gilthanas would not discuss business matters during a meal, when the body was supposed to concentrate on the important act of nourishing and replenishing itself. Instead, he spoke about his family.

“I am the youngest. I have an elder brother, Porthios, and a sister whose name in your language is Laurana.”

“She must be very beautiful, your sister,” said Theros, knowing what was expected of a guest. “She must have many suitors.”

“One too many, if you ask me,” said Gilthanas dryly.

He said nothing more about his sister, and Theros, seeing that the elf appeared displeased, did not ask.

When Theros declared himself finished eating, Gilthanas politely pressed him to eat more and was equally politely refused. Gilthanas then seated himself behind the desk. It was time to talk business.

“Master Ironfeld, I have a proposition for you. I have checked your story with the limited time and resources available to me, and so far, you appear to be telling the truth.”

Theros shifted uncomfortably.

Gilthanas, seeing the man’s uneasiness, gave a faint smile. “I am certain you have things to hide in your past. What man doesn’t? But at least I have learned enough about you to know that you are a man who can be trusted. No, don’t ask how. I have my sources.

“If we were in my homeland, in the old days, we would start the negotiations this morning and they would last for several days, maybe even weeks. But we do not have that luxury. Time is critical. I will be blunt and come straight to the point. My people need someone with your skills, Master Ironfeld. Would you be interested in working for us?”

Theros sat back, astounded. He certainly wasn’t expecting this. He did not relish the idea of working for another army, especially an elven army. He could see Hran, cut down by elven blades.…

“Look, Gilthanas, thank you for the offer and all, but what I really want to do is set up a smithy in Solace and sell my services and wares to civilians. I’ve had my fill of fighting. I want to lead a peaceful life. I don’t think I’m interested.” Theros stood up, thinking all had been said and it was time to go.

Gilthanas did not agree. “Please, hear me out.”

Reluctantly, Theros sat back down.

Gilthanas sighed. “I have not told you the entire story yet. I have told you of Verminaard’s stated goal of exterminating the Qualinesti peoples. What I did not tell you is that he is coming very close to succeeding in that goal. Still, I do not need you to manufacture weapons. I doubt, in fact, if your limited human skills would suit us. I mean no offense, but human weapons are quite crude and clumsy, compared to those our people use.” He glanced disdainfully at the axe as he spoke.

Theros sputtered at the insult, but the elf wasn’t listening.

“You said you were from Nordmaar. You were taken aboard a minotaur ship, and you worked aboard it for some years.”

Theros nodded. “Yes, I was a slave for the minotaurs from the age of eight until I was freed. Many of those years, I served aboard one ship. I told you all that.”

“I wanted to confirm it. That is excellent. My people need your help to evacuate Qualinesti. You see”-Gilthanas spread his hands-“we know very little of ships and sailing.”

Theros was astonished. The elves had been in Qualinesti as long as there had been a Qualinesti. Maybe longer. “What do you mean, evacuate? Where would you go?”

“Only a small handful of people know of the plan. We are going to remove most of the population to a region of Southern Ergoth, a place we call Qualimori. We are not a seafaring people. We need your help.”

Theros frowned. “I can’t build ships, if that’s what you’re asking. I sailed on them. I didn’t build them.”

Gilthanas explained. “We have a shipwright from Northern Ergoth who has designed the ships. He already has a team of elves helping him assemble them. He has asked for a metalsmith who can manufacture the necessary metal parts. None of our people possess such skills. I know that you are a weapons-smith, but could you do the job? He would provide all of the specifications. You would be well paid.”

Theros thought it over. “If this Verminaard is winning and I help out the losing side, my life wouldn’t be worth much, now, would it? Not much good making money if I don’t live to spend it.”

“Very true,” Gilthanas said, and he almost smiled. “I promise you that we will keep your work with us secret. We will take you to our camp on the western shores. We will pay you twenty steel pieces a day, plus five hundred to join. I would ask you to aid us for only a few months, after which, if you want to continue on to Solace, we would help you to reach it. Will you join our cause?”

Theros thought this over for a long moment. He didn’t want to have anything to do with other people’s causes. He wanted to start a business for himself. How was it that he kept tumbling into these predicaments? Would he ever in his life have a cause of his own? Still, the pay was good, and he would be away from any fighting. And it would be for only a few months.

“All right, I’ll sign on with you,” he said.

Gilthanas was pleased. “Thank you, Master Ironfeld. I remind you that it is important that you say nothing of this to anyone, even among my own people, until you reach the building site at Quivernost.”

Theros picked up his axe, reseating it in the back holster he wore. He briefly opened his bag, noting that everything appeared to be in order. Downstairs, he met Hirinthas and Vermala, the two elves who had escorted Theros the night before.

“These two are warriors from the Royal Court of Qualinesti. They will ensure you safe passage to Quivernost. You will leave immediately.”

To seal their deal, Gilthanas handed Theros a large felt bag. The bag was heavy. Theros opened it, saw the steel pieces. He did not bother to count them. He attached the bag to his pouch, hoisted his pack over his shoulder. Then the three of them headed off into the forest.