Chapter Sixty-two

“They have Chief Chirbon’s daughter. They don’t get ta become a chief just because their parent is… they have to prove their worth. But Chirbon believes that she is the only one who can beat his next rival, and worries his realm will fall to someone who will truly join the Empire once he takes over. All three of our realms would leave right now if we had the chance. Never would have even joined them if we were nay forced ta.” Cala’s eyes were dark, he practically growled the last sentence. “They have other ladies that are important to our realms captured too, but those that are closest to us are the ones that we need back most. Just to be able to think about leaving the Empire.”

“So, you’re here to warn me not to go save these women, who may be my only possible chance at extending our allies?” His voice suddenly sounded cold and angry.

“Damion.” Volencia hissed, trying to pull him back. He only glared at her over his shoulder before turning his attention back to Cala.

“Yer the boy who beat Lock an’ Claven, aren’t ye?” The dwarf passed Damion the next mug, refilling his own.

“I am.”

Volencia gave a tight smile, looking at him. “You’re the one who used the shield when I was being attacked in the streets.”

“Aye,” He nodded. The smile falling from his lips. “If I could have set you free without them killin’ me, I would’ve. They’d have killed me wife too. I’m sorry.” He sighed, “I was chosen to take King Travagrad’s place that day because my shield is stronger and they worried about the Arch Mage showin’ up. They offered me Aidlezeg as a reward to betray my King and folk. Ta be honest, they can bite my balls. They have me wife. She'll be at Claven's tomorrow. They threatening me wit her and her wit me. She doesn wanna help them neither, but we’re both trapped." He mumbled something in dwarvish before taking a long swig of ale.

Damion joined him also taking a long swig. “So, you’re telling us not to save your wife?”

“Not exactly. I wanna save her, but I donna want ta see you fail with them, otherwise we'll all be forced ta stay under their thumb. They’re scared of ye. Will do anything ta mess ye up. Somehow my wife is part of the plan. That's it. I wanted to warn ye.”

“We're not even going tomorrow.” Volencia said, Damion could see her hand shaking as she brought her cup to her lips.

“Our Princess means she’s not going. I will be there. What does your wife look like so that I can make sure to be careful around her?” The look Volencia gave him wrenched at his heart, he'd known she didn't want him to go, but he had to.

“She's a little shorter than I. Not dwarvish. She's a fairy. Princess Aveline of Quimbled to be exacting. We married in secret years ago, back after Thambair left us to our own rebellion. Mess of red curls on her head, green color changin’ wings. Small itty-bitty thing. She been runnin’ the rebellion in Quimbled fer years. Since afore the Queen here passed. Hates the Council more then most."

“I've met Aveline. She used to come visit regularly.” Volencia frowned, staring down into her lap, tears blossoming on her cheeks. “But I still can't let Damion go.”

“Aye. She told me. She was young then, but had no desire to be told by men what she could do and couldn. One of the reasons she married me, I let the wench walk all over me and do whatever she asks.” He laughed again before becoming serious. “She'll hate herself if’n she harms ye, Princess. But she may na have the option. I hate ta say it, but it may be best ifn ye didn go. Then they wouldna be able to get their claws inta ye at all. At least the rebellion would stay standin’.”

Damion drank at his mead, thoughts churning in his mind. “I don’t think I have the choice, no matter how the Princess feels about it. I have things I need to do and know.” The dwarf only nodded, not asking a word about what those things were. “I have to be there tomorrow.”

Volencia’s hands slipped away from his shoulders. Though Damion wasn’t looking at her, he could feel her turn away sobbing. His heart hammered in his chest. As he turned to look at her, she slumped down into her chair, her shoulders shaking.

“I came ta tell ye ta stay away, because my wife will kill ye tomorrow if’n ye show. It’ll break me heart if that happens, and I certainly hope I ain’t got to watch it. But I will nay interfere. Not at the risk of me wife or me life.” Cala frowned, and the servants came in, quickly disposing the trays of food on the table and disappearing back outside.

“Then I will convince them I’m siding with them.” He watched her over his shoulder, slump even more, her sobs becoming louder. “I can’t possibly pass up this one chance I have to meet the others. If Thambair is going to stand a chance after the Armistice is over, then we need to find others who will fight with us.” Half turning toward her, Damion’s hand soothed her knee. “I’m sorry, but you have to understand—”

Slapping his hand away, she stood. Storming toward the bar where she poured a large glass of wine.

“Volencia…” He stood, rounding the table toward her, attempting to take the glass from her hand. She pushed him, drinking the contents of the glass back in one quick swallow. His eyes flashed angrily. If it wouldn’t have hurt and insulted her, he would have pulled the cup away even as she drank. All he could do was watch and beg. “Please stop.”

Slamming the bottle on the bar, she poked his chest. “But you can guzzle whatever you want and say you’re going on a suicide mission and for what? Hopes of a treaty that likely won’t happen anyway? The Chiaro were barely in the rebellion to begin with, and I’ve met Gareth. He’s a spoiled rotten child and a snake. I got to meet him when his bulbous, sexist uncle came to tell my father they wouldn’t be supporting us any longer. And tried to paw at me like some concubine.”

“How long ago was that? And this isn’t about him…” Damion snatched the bottle away as her fingers groped for it. “Besides, if you continue this,” he held the bottle up out of her reach as she tried to snatch it back, “I’m not the one you’re hurting.”

“Funny, because if you die tomorrow, which Cala just confirmed is the whole goal of this stupid meeting, you may as well be killing me too.” She pushed him with both hands as hard as she could. He took two steps back, more from the shock of her words than being pushed. “At least let me get drunk enough not to care! Just. Like. You.” She snatched the whiskey, pressing the decanter between her breasts. Tears streaming down to stain the green silk of her gown.

“Don’t you dare.” He growled at her.

Gregron started to move toward them, but Venron grabbed his arm, shaking his head. Cala’s eyes were wide, watching the scene unfold.

“NO!” Volencia pulled the stopper, throwing it at him. He barely ducked to the side in time to keep it from smacking him in the forehead. “Don’t. You. Dare!” She screamed. “If you do this, we’re as good as dead too. So, what does it matter any—” her eyes narrowed and the whiskey fell to the floor. The decator shattering as both her hands flew to her mouth.

Damion’s eyes softed and he grabbed a waste bucket nearby. “Are you going to?” She nodded, her shoulders pitching forward as she tried to contain her heaving. He went to her, holding the bucket out with one hand, the other taming her black tresses to the side. Once she was done, he handed her the basket and bent to lift her against his chest. “Excuse us.” He said to the room at large as he moved lithly to the balancony. The door was still broken where he’d gone threw it a few days before, so he stepped out into the cooling air.

Venron folded his hands in front of him on the table, watching the dwarf over the table. “I sincerely hope this doesn’t end up in a report you bring back to them.”

Cala sat back, smiling. “There is no report. If they knew I was here tonight, the’d likely kill me. I wasn’t lying when I said I was here of my own accord and not theirs. I hope yer lovely little daughter can convince him not to come. As I said, I don’t wanna see him die.” Cala poured another glass, smiling as Venron pushed his toward him. Gregron pushed a third, pushing it toward the dwarf. “When I first came, I had me doubts. But yer girl is a firey as her mum, if not more. And that boy? I like him. And I don’t like many of ya long ears, but he’s somethin’ special.”

The King smiled, “Very. If anyone will help lead us to our goals in the future, Damion is it.”

***

Gregron’s head whipped up, starting at the king. His brow furrowed. Not because he didn’t believe the words, but because memories rushed him. Venron, showing up and demanding they not kill the child. Only to show again to save him as Brambee gave birth in the middle of a dark forest surrounded by beasts. His gaze fell on the balcony where he could see Damion kneeling before Volencia, taking the bin from her and setting it aside. The young elf watched the Princess with worried eyes, before placing his head in her lap and she started to caress his hair.

“Any how, it’s time fer me ta leave. If’n ye care fer that boy, tell him nae ta come tomorrow.” Cala got up, walking toward the door.

Gregron stood, walking with him. “Let me see you to the tower.”

“Thank ye.” Cala nodded. The stoic Gregron had never been his favorite elf. “There’s quite a resemblance between ye and the boy.”

Gregron shrugged, “We’re both from the Hive. Many of our folk look much alike.”

“Ye two did nae come here together? Ye showed up about the same time he’da been born.” Cala put two and two together.

“Yes. I was his mother’s protector before she passed while giving birth to him. She wanted to run away from her family for certain reasons. In the end, I loved her enough to follow.”

“Aye, a new hope is born. Are they strong enough ta do what must be done though is the question?”

“Yes, they are.” Gregron nodded, not missing the smirk on the dwarf’s face.

“I promise, no one will even know I was here. But my wife is part of that plan. Just because she wants no part of it, doesn’t mean she won’t do what they say she must.”

“I believe you. We will do our best to make sure he doesn’t come.” Cala’s head barely came up over Gregron’s hip. “Though, he’s pig headed enough to try still.”

They walked the rest of the way to the tower in silence and Gregron opened the door for him. “Remember what I told you.” Cala pointed at him before dipping into the silver surface of the mirror that would take him the Adelzeg.