Dwalin and the Pearl

Chapter 3

In case you didn't know, the story that young Ori was babbling on about was about was an old wheeze about the ancient dwarven rune master Dvalin.

My mother named me after him, and never had a name been more inaccurately bestowed on a hapless baby dwarf. I'm no wise scholar. In fact, I hardly ever think, if I can help it. Keeps things simple.

Anyway, Dvalin was supposed to have been so wise and powerful that the very sun in the sky was his toy, his lover, his plaything. Something like that. But judging from the dwarf woman's expression, this notion did not amuse. Just as well, because I wouldn't have had the time to indulge her. I had a shipment of dwarven gold to get to Bree, and the remainder of the slaver's caravan to deal with.

Of the six people who had been carrying packs, the two Dunlendings had cleared out. That left me with four ragged-looking dwarves to deal with. Well, Nori had taken his wet-behind-the-ears younger brother under his wing. So, three ragged dwarves.

Riki came up to me, looking anxious. "Dwalin, I'm concerned about one of the oxen. It seems like his right front hock was badly scraped when they got all tangled up, and the poor thing is favoring it. I'm not sure if he'll make it to Bree unless he rests."

I told Riki to see what he could do about the animals, and then went over to the three dwarves that were left. One had a goofy-looking smile, the second was enormously fat, and the third had the rusting remnants of an axe embedded in his forehead. They all looked a bit warily at me.

"Well, you lot are free to go," I told them.

"What about our pay?" the goofy-looking one asked. He was wearing the oddest headgear I'd ever seen, a squashy felt thing with ear-flaps that he wore half-raised, making it look like a vulture had perched on his noggin. "And the rest of the trip? We're working our way to Bree, where work is easy, the ladies are lovely-"

"And food is plentiful," added the fat one. He had an enormous ginger beard, longer even than Gloin's, braided into a thick semi-circle that hung down over his huge paunch.

The one with the axe in his head grunted, and babbled a few words in what sounded like ancient Khuzdul.

Vulture Hat pointed at Axe-Head. "Aye. What he said."

"Mind translating that for me?"

"We signed contracts." With this, the one with the hat produced three pieces of paper, and proudly displayed their marks made on the bottom of each-two "x"es and a scribble that looked like an axe dripping blood.

I massaged my forehead. "Right. Wait here."

Things had gone fairly well up until that point: Gold recovered, villains dispatched, and two rescues carried out (if one counted the woman and Nori's naïve younger brother). I just hadn't expected to have a lame draft animal and three extra dwarves that I couldn't get rid of. Of course I knew the drill when these things happen: Commander's Intent. No plan, however good, can be expected to survive contact with the enemy. Stuff happens, and stuff had. My job now was to do whatever I needed to do, to carry out Aunt Nott's intent: Get the gold to Bree.

I wandered over to the blanket where Nori was just slipping the lock pick into his pocket. Ori was talking to the woman, who I was glad to see had put on the heavy robe that had been found for her. However, it wasn't enough to make her any less of a distraction for the men. She was still beautiful, and apparently had a talent for setting people at their ease. Ori was smiling and even Nori looked less shifty than normal. Here was another unexpected problem: How to deal with a woman in our midst?

She looked up. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine." I turned to Ori. "Let me look at your contract."