The ride northward was an unpleasant business.
It rained for two straight days, and a bitter wind blew in from the west, making the Halflings freeze in their saddles. Cheeryup didn’t complain, but everyone made sure she had the most blankets. Dorro even had trouble even lighting his pipe weed, which made him particularly grumpy—and he made sure everyone knew it.
On the afternoon of the fourth day out of St. Borgo, Aramina hooted excitedly. “Look, Crumbly! There, on that third hill!”
Crumble scanned the horizon and became excited himself.
“I don’t know if you can see it, Mr. Dorro, but on that distant hillock is a stone war totem—an ancient ruin that is well known by all Dwarf travelers. It means we are getting close to Gildenhall.”
“How close? I need a bath!” Dorro scowled at his companion, still irritable and cold.
“Oh, about ten miles as the hawk flies. We could either stop for the night or press on.”
“If we keep going, can I get a bath tonight?”
Crumble and Aramina broke out in mirth. “Of course you can, silly Halfling!” croaked Aramina. “Wait until he sees the hot springs of Gildenhall, Crumbly. Yon bookmaster will faint at the sight of our grand baths and grottos.”
“’Tis true! Mr. Dorro might never come out of the water. He’ll be a wrinkled prune!”
Dorro brightened immeasurably at the thought of a real soaking. “I promise I won’t complain anymore. That, food, and a nice bed and this Halfling will be happy as a fox in a chicken coop.”
The band rode on quietly, following the same strange road that Wyll and Orli had taken a few days earlier. First it rose into the mountains, but then began its descent deep into the heart of stone. Dorro was relieved the Dwarf guards knew Aramina and Crumble as they passed, and entered the city without problem.
It was hours later when they finally entered the halls of Gildenhall, and by then, the city was quiet. Aramina and Crumble had a few matters to attend to, so they found porters to take Dorro and Cheeryup to the baths, and later to carved guest rooms where they’d find beds and food. To the Halflings, the softly glowing Dwarf environs were rather surreal, but they were tired and hungry. Eventually, after their much-needed baths, they were led to their adjoining rooms and slept for the remainder of the night.
* * *
The following morning was quite different.
Dorro and Cheeryup were awakened early by their porters and given a quick breakfast of hardboiled eggs, cheese, and fruit before being led off by porters for a tour. The two Thimble Downers were awed by the immense caverns, arches, and bridges that spanned the inner halls of the city. They asked about the pale blue-and-green lights that illuminated everything underground, but found it difficult to understand the earthly power behind these luminescent rocks. It seemed magic.
Similarly, the entire heating of Gildenhall was controlled from deep within the planet, where miners manipulated hot flumes to allow just the right amount of warmth to pervade the caverns where Dwarves worked and lived. It was an amazing feat of natural engineering.
“Ahoy, Mr. Dorro!” They heard Crumble hollering down a long stone hallway. “Over here!”
Dorro thanked the Dwarf porters and tried to tip them with a few silver pieces, but they snorted at the gesture and departed in friendship. (Dorro had yet to comprehend the immense wealth of Gildenhall. A few silver pieces were nothing for folk who found precious stones and metals under every other rock.)
“There you are, Mr. Dorro and Miss Cheeryup,” said Crumble, jogging up with Aramina and some other Dwarves. “We’ve had a bit of a surprise this morning, and in fact, a good one! You may know these hale young fellows.”
From behind the Dwarf stepped Wyll and Orli. A blur of yellow hair streaked by Dorro as Cheeryup threw her arms around Wyll’s neck and hugged the life out of him. Momentarily shocked, the bookmaster joined the throng and joyously embraced his nephew, while clapping Orli on the back.
“I don’t know what to say!” Dorro was both flustered and thrilled to find the boy. “One part of me wants to scold you, Wyll Underfoot, while the other wants to hold onto you forever.”
“You won’t run off again, Wyll, will you?” begged Cheeryup, tears brimming in her eyes. “Do you know how much I missed you?”
“Errr, I’m sorry,” said Wyll. “I didn’t mean to be a bother.”
“You’re not, boy, and believe me, I know I’m to blame. I’m a bit hard on you, but that’s only because I don’t want to let your dear departed mother down. She wanted you raised right, and indeed sometimes I take it too far.” Dorro looked the youngling straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Wyll. Can you forgive a foolish uncle?”
Wyll smiled shyly and embraced the elder Halfling.
“They’re both scamps, I tell ya!” laughed Crumble. “But I knew they’d be alright. Dwarf lads are forever running off into the wild for a lark. I did it half a dozen times and even took a few whippings from my Pa. But he knew it was good for me, and I think these boys did well—they crossed nearly a hundred miles of open country and survived the worst goblin attack in years.”
“Goblin attack?” shrieked Dorro and Cheeryup in tandem, prompting Orli to relay the story of the battle and Wyll’s injury.
“I thought I noticed you limping, Wyll. I shall never forgive myself. Will it mend?”
Wyll nodded while Orli continued, “Thankfully it weren’t no poisoned goblin arrow. Otherwise, he’d-a been a croaker, but he’s dandy now, right mate?”
Dorro thought he would faint upon hearing this, but retained his composure. He also noticed Cheeryup hadn’t let go of Wyll’s hand. She was white as a ghost at the news of the attack.
“Enough of this banter, Mr. Dorro. We got work to do!” chimed in Crumble. “First off, we received an audience with the Seer, which is good. She’s never met Halflings and is intrigued by your kind. Second, there’s word of mysterious goblin movements in the North country, and we have scouts returning today. There might be action sooner than we think.”
“Aye, and a good thing, too,” leered Aramina. “I’m getting a little rusty—it’s time for Malachite Molly to get back on the trail and hunt some goblin necks. I haven’t had a good fight in months!”
For dramatic effect, she pulled a huge knife out of her belt and admired its deadly glimmer in the light.