Chapter Sixty-one

“First, may I call you, Cala?” Damion’s head cocked to the side.

The dwarf eyed him suspiciously, “Fer now I’ll allow it. And if durin’ this meetin’ I don nay revoke the offer, make sure not ta do it in front of any other elves. They’ll assume yer being rude and follow.”

“Fair enough. I won’t.” Damion nodded with a wink. “A Hoarah?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. Cala’s smile split from ear to ear, raising his glass until they hit each other, mead sploshing over the brims, splattering across the floor. They both shouted Hoarah! Laughing, they tipped back their mugs. Volencia was shocked to see the two of them, eyes locked, downing the contents as quickly as possible. As if they were racing to see who could put the mug down the quickest. The dwarf’s mug hit just before Damion’s.

Letting out a loud burp, the dwarf threw his head back, laughing. “I’ve never seen a long ear like you keep up with one of us!” He slapped Damion’s shoulder. “What’s yer name, boy?”

“Damion,” he said, blowing out hard and shaking his head a little, “that was very heavy. I may regret that in a few minutes.” Venron and Gregron both clapped slowly, watching him in shock.

“Why did you do that?” Volencia asked, leaning against his back.

He winked over his shoulder at her. “The Dwarves and Clagonians were friends before the rebellion. This was their custom when they would meet up.”

“Aye,” the dwarf cocked his head at Damion. “How’d ya end up with the lizards?” With was a gleam in his eye as he took Damion’s mug, “Don’t suppose ye want another?”

“Please.” Damion nodded, “I’ll take my time enjoying this one though.” He set the mug aside as Cala handed it back to him full. “My birth mother was looking for refuge while she was pregnant with me, ending up just outside their village. She passed away during my birth, so the Samanthian’s took me in.” A light tap on his shoulder brought his attention to Volencia. She had stayed behind him for most of the meeting so far.

She pressed her body against his back, half standing to whisper in his ear. “I’ve never had dwarven ale before, may I try some?”

Damion smiled over his shoulder at her. “Of course.” Grabbing the mug and handing it over his shoulder to her. “Careful though, it’s strong. You’ll just want a small sip.”

“Thank you.” She pressed against his back again. He half turned, smirking. He wanted to see her reaction. As she sipped the mead, she coughed half of it back up. “Oh!” She covered her mouth, Damion turned, putting his hand on her waist, taking the mug.

“You alright?” He asked, placing it on the table.

“Yeah.” Her hands rested on his shoulders briefly. “How did you drink it down that quickly?”

“Trey hasn’t always made a nice smooth ale like you had while we visited.” Damion laughed, “We had to work through some pretty heavy batches before he got good at it.”

“Most elves won’t even try our brew.” The dwarf smiled. “You are a brave little princess, aye. The only other lass who I’ve ever met that was daring enough was yer mum. She could pack it away with the best of the boys.” He laughed.

Damion turned back toward Calazerthlegle with a smile as Volencia draped herself over his shoulders, smiling. “You knew my mother?”

“Aye. Me own da was captain of the guard in Adelzeg. So often convened with the Rebel Leaders. I was just a boy then, but where I’m from, sons follow their da’s steps. So, I was always expected to be the Captain. So, I got ta rub elbows with yer ma and da a few times before the world fell to shit.” He took a deep long drink from his cup.

This gave Volencia a chance to lean in. “Do you trust him?” She whispered in his ear.

I feel like we should be able to. It’s questionable, so tread lightly, but I have a good feeling about him. Damion’s voice rumbled through her mind. Surprising a gasp out of her. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Anyway, I knew the Clagonians better than the elves. Ya said I may’be know’n yer parents too?” Cala asked.

“Most folk who knew the Temple knew them. Especially my dad. He was the Keeper of the Temple. Even cared for the library after they lost the scribe. His name was Lennion.”

“Though he always introduced himself as Len, back in the day.” Venron chuckled.

“Aye,” Calazerthlegle smiled, “I remember Len. And his wife, Kirna. She wouldn’ let us drink at the Temple, so instead filled our mugs full of warm chocolate.”

“Mom still makes warm milk, though chocolate isn’t something we have access to at home.” Damion smiled. “Kirna, my mom, talked about how she used to make warm chocolate for those who would visit the temple.” He remembered those conversations fondly. “Trey and I always wanted to try it, but there was never a chance.” He took a long swig of his mead, leaning back against Volencia as she smoothed his shoulders. She knew Damion didn’t drink much and worried he may have gone too fast with the first.

“Trey is yer brother?” Calazerthlegle asked, watching Damion carefully. “So, you’re adopted and they had a son?”

Volencia smirked as the Cala asked the question. Damion’s brow crinkled. “No. My parents couldn’t have striplings of their own. When I showed up, they were immediately ready to adopt me. Then, when I teleported my mom to some random town that had recently been rampaged, and we found another stripling. She was eager to adopt him once we realized no one else survived the attack.” Damion’s hand came up to touch Volencia’s softly. “Travion is a River Lizard. The last of his kind, from what we know. So, he was adopted by my parents, just as I was.”

The dwarf’s eyes shone. “Well then, I’d like te tell ye that I loved yer parents. You must have grown up happy.”

Damion relaxed back as Volencia messaged his shoulders, letting his long legs stretch under the table. “For the most part. Yes.” He shrugged.

Venron looked back at Gregron. “Could you ask them to bring dinner in, please?”

Gregron bowed, half a smile on his face. “Of course.”

“Thank goodness,” she said, wrapping her arms around Damion’s shoulders, “I’m starving.”

“You should have said something sooner then.” He laughed, turning to look into her eyes. You’re eating for two now, remember. We need you to stay strong and healthy, especially after the last few days.

I didn’t want to be needy. She pouted, finally pulling away from him.

Please be needy. He suddenly wanted to kiss her and pull her down into his lap. No one in this room knows what it’s like to be pregnant, nor would we know what you need without you telling us.

Yes, love. She sat in the seat behind him again, but pulled it closer to the table, looking past him and more at Cala than she had earlier.

“Anyway,” Damion cleared his throat, “What brought you here tonight?”

Cala was in the middle of downing another cup of mead, and came back coughing. “Damn. I was hoping ye wouldn’t ask that until the food arrived.”

Damion laughed, “We’ll feed you regardless. I promise.”

The dwarf’s meaty hands fisted as he perched them on his wide hips. “I came to warn ya not ta go ta the damnable meetin’ tomorrow.”

Damion’s head cocked to the side, “Why not?”

“They have a plan ta kill ya.” Calazerthlegle held up his hands, closing his eyes. “I donnae know the plan. Only that me wife, the fairy princess Aveline, told me they will force her to use her fae magic on ye.” He sighed, drinking down yet another glass of mead. Volencia was surprised he hadn’t fallen over in a drunken stupor yet. “She wants nothin’ ta do with hurting Thambair’s chances. She was friends and allies with yer mum. She doesn’t want ta hurt ye, Princess, or anyone helpin’ ye.”

Everyone in the room sighed. Damion sat forward, frowning, putting his arms on his knees as he leaned in toward the dwarf. “Let me ask you this, Cala. Would any of the other realms consider joining us in the rebellion?”

“There are other realms that would be interested. But they won’t leave. Like me, they’re wives or daughters are being held captive. None of us will leave while they have them. Take Gareth for instance, poor boy’s wife if about to have a child… and they have her locked up in with the other concubines. Every time he even argues back with them, they offer the poor girl to someone to use and abuse her. He’s only been involved with ‘em fer a fortnight, but the poor thing is already showing his wear. It’s killing him.”

Volencia didn’t like the slow way Damion straightened, his back tensing and his shoulders pushing back. “So, they have your wife, and Gareth’s pregnant wife. Who else do they have?” She could tell by the heave of his shoulders that anger was starting to boil up in him, and he wasn’t going to let this go. Especially now.