The Supreme Warrior *2014 ABNA Contest 2nd Round*

CHAPTER 11.1: The Realm of Queen Sefwyn

 After the morning drill, the dwarves lost most of their hostility to the men. Before lunch, the dwerrow had taught the guardsmen their dicing game and the entire group shouted in the common room. Gambling with dwarves did not raise any memories of Aubert.

Crowded around a small table in the far corner, Cal, Gellan Ware and Styrian sipped a sweet apple cider from pint mugs. “Trader, how did you know? I was afraid they’d kill each other and we’d all be dead,” inquired Styrian, for once unashamed to tacitly admit his ignorance.

The Trader grinned with satisfaction, “Men—and dwarves I suppose—will never work together until they find a way to measure one another. We merchants use our scales and yardsticks, Styrian. Warriors use combat.”

“But we’re making the trade, Master. Not the guardsmen.”

“Oh really, Apprentice?” challenged the Trader. When Styrian did not respond, Gellan Ware continued in a fatherly tone, “If you ever hope to hold a Merchant’s Key, you must learn that trade partners judge you by every man in your caravan."

“But Master, think of the risk. We could have been killed.”

“Yes, that is true. But, if you are not bold enough to manage life and death, you cannot lead a caravan.”

“You act as if we're fighting a war, instead of engaging in trade.”

The Trader replied, “There are many similarities. Both require money. The primary difference is commerce directs men to build, while war consumes them.”

“Business is war?” asked Styrian, almost contemptuous that his mentor meant to teach nothing more than a tired truism.

The Trader glanced in Cal’s direction, and asked, “Do you think Conradin, here, can load a caravan with salted pork by skewering the barrels with his sword?”

“No.”

“Then don’t be absurd. The risks, rewards and primary goals are vastly different.”

“Then you doubt Keldrin’s wisdom?”

Cal drank in silence, amused to watch the master/apprentice relationship from an outside vantage point. He could understand why Gellan Ware would discuss this topic with his protégé, but Cal could not figure out why the Trader had pulled him into the conversation.

That man has a reason for everything he does. What is he trying to tell me?

Rather than offer an answer, the Trader pulled a long drink of cider from his mug. Apparently, this is an exercise he prefers to leave to the student.

* * *

Queen Sefwyn summoned Gellan Ware’s company to her throne room a few hours after noon. Bodelic returned along with the message, but had no answer to Gellan Ware’s query about what kind of reception they could expect from the Queen. “I do not know,” answered Bodelic, his face lined with tension.

At long last, the Queen decided to allow the men to see more of the dwarf realm. The Warriors the men had befriended provided the escort. The task they performed for their Queen seemed to remind the dwerrow of the ancient enmity between their species. The jovial companions that had diced with the men the night before had disappeared. Instead, the Warrors marched in dour silence, their faces locked with fell purpose.

Bodelic made up for their silence all by himself. He could not contain his enthusiasm in showing his friends his ancient, and very secret, home. The Miner's eyes glittered green with pride as the procession left the entry hall. They entered a vast cavern lit by great lamps that shone like the sun.