Chapter 34. Dragon Claw

rmand would happily have stayed on the dwarven dromond for weeks.  As it was, two days seemed intolerably short.  He had to concede that he was happy, a state that had evaded him for a very long time.  With Brigit beside him, an unfamiliar contentment settled where emptiness had once dwelt.  For a man who had always professed to need no one and nothing, it was a bit humbling.

They disembarked in Droknar’s Forge on a bright icy morning.  The sprawling dwarven town looked clean for a change in its pristine layer of snow.  From every squat building a finger of curling smoke pointed skyward and the odor of burning wood was sharp upon the crisp air.  Brigit was in her element chatting with her new dwarven friends in their native tongue.  They seemed thrilled a human had taken the trouble to learn its gruff intricacies and Armand sensed that was why they had been treated with such an amazing level of hospitality on the ship.

At the bottom of the gangplank they stood amidst their chests holding hands as their possessions were transferred to a low sledge for transport to an inn.  Armand still wondered how Master Bei expected them to travel through the wilderness burdened with all that junk.  The southern Shiverpeaks were inhospitable at the best of times.  A young dwarf with coppery hair and beard grasped the lead rope of the sledge and began dragging it after him.  It was bigger than he and possibly weighed more than the small man’s compact frame but he drew it along without difficulty or complaint.  Brigit tugged playfully on Armand’s hand and they followed.

“We are being taken to the local chieftan’s hall,” Brigit said, “Aevar is his nephew.  He feels confident we can stay there.  He thinks his uncle can put us in touch with the folks who can obtain the items Zhou requires.”

Armand nodded and placed his arm around the small of her back, drawing her lovingly against his side as they walked.  He hardly noticed the cold as she nuzzled his cheek and giggled.

“What are you going to do after this is done?” she asked him.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he answered truthfully, “What about you?”

“I was planning to follow you around like a lost puppy.”

Armand chuckled and squeezed her against him.  He really should not become so attached to another human being but he could not help himself.  He loved her and every moment he spent with her only reinforced that.  It was as if the trajectory of his life had always intended for them to meet and who was he to argue with that?

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he replied, pecking her temple, “Us.  Lost puppies.”

Brigit snorted.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I really love you,” she whispered.

He was moved by her words and the depth of her feelings, his sensitive mind flooded with the warmth of her compassion and fondness for him.  There was nothing he would not do for her.

They curled down from the docks across the huddle of market stalls where merchants were busily preparing to sell their wares.  Across an icicle festooned bridge, they began climbing toward the line of a wooden palisade that embraced a hall and little clusters of rounded green-roofed buildings.  A pair of chain mail clad dwarves bearing long-handled axes pulled opened the double gate and stood aside to let them pass within.  They threaded past the sturdy iron-reinforced doors and entered a cluttered courtyard.  As the gates groaned shut behind them, Aevar drew the sledge with their mountain of boxes and chests to a low green-roofed hut.  A dwarven woman in a thick slate-blue woolen dress awaited them there.  Her curly mop of hair and thin beard gleamed golden in the pale sunlight as her stout figure bowed to them.

“I am Frida Hallgrim,” she said, raising her head now to gaze upon them with sharp blue eyes, “Welcome, dwarf friends. Thane Ingvarr sends his greetings and wishes you to join him for evening festivities in the great hall.  Until then, please avail yourself of our hospitality.  You are free to come and go as you please.”

After bowing a second time, the woman passed Brigit a sturdy key to the cottage’s door and parted from them.  Aevar gently took it from her and unlocked the door, unloading their belongings into the room as they stood by watching him.  Armand offered to help, but the proud dwarf refused.  He was immensely strong for his size and was done quickly, turning from his work to bow respectfully to them before drawing the empty sledge away.

“Nice people,” Armand murmured.

“They take pride in being good hosts,” Brigit replied, “Of course they fight like demons if you cross them.”

Armand grinned, recalling the large axes born by the guards.  Of course, in his travels, he had run across dwarves and he had tangled with the dreaded Storm Summit, but he had never been their honored guest.  They moved up the three steps to the threshold of the little building to find a little entry room with a fire blazing in its hearth.  The room had a single round window gazing out into the crowded yard and, with its low ceiling, was cozy and warm.  Brigit closed the door behind them and peeled off her layers of fur-lined coat and woolen shirts.  He remarked how lovely she was when she was pared down to a single layer.

“Are you going to gawp at me or take that coat off?” she chuckled.

Armand grinned and followed her example, piling his unwanted clothing on top of hers upon one of the chests.  He was once more arrayed in his silken blouse and trousers and Brigit was eying him appraisingly, her freckled face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“I think the bedroom is through there,” she giggled, gesturing to a low doorway.

“Should we have a look and make sure it meets our needs?”

“Oh Armie, we’re such kids,” she chuckled, “but we really should go through all the stuff Zhou gave us.  We’re meeting the Thane of this clan and it’s our best opportunity to find out how we’re going to get the things Zhou needs.”

“Ah, I see.”

“If we’re fast, though, we should have some time to play.”

Armand grasped her hand and squeezed it, hoping she had time for at least a kiss, which she did.  It was a dangerous proposition, however, for they both trembled with desire and it was an act of will to withdraw and focus on the task at hand.  Brigit seemed to know her away around the chests and retrieved the keys to unlock them from her shoulder pouch.  The first was full of brightly colored silks of every imaginable color. 

“Tribute,” Brigit said to his bewildered expression, “They won’t have much access to Canthan silk out here, but you better believe they crave it.  If this doesn’t win the Thane’s help, nothing will.”

The second chest contained bags of fragrant seed pods, pearls of hardened golden incense sap, and jars of ground powers and leaves.  The only one he recognized was an immense jar of peppercorns.  Zhou must have spent a fortune.

“I think he mentioned these were to trade for what he needed,” Brigit said, “He wrote it out in this document.”

“Go ahead and read it, I’ll look in this one,” Armand replied as she proffered a small scroll to him.  There was an awkward silence as Brigit fumbled with the paper.

“I would really prefer if you read it,” Brigit mumbled, lowering her eyes and blushing.  Armand shrugged and took it from her, sensing her discomfort and shame.  Why would she feel that way?  It was just a piece of paper.  He broke the seal and read it.

Master LeBlanc,

I asked Brigit to give this to you once you arrived safely in Droknar’s Forge.  I apologize for not discussing this with you in Cantha but I feared we would be overheard.  First, I did not actually send you on this journey to gather materials.  If you have read the book I gave you, the reason will be clear.  Please take what you have discovered in the book to the Seer.  She will know what to do.

Deliver the gifts to Thane Ingvarr with my compliments.  He is a generous man and will no doubt offer some guidance for your quest.  I apologize for the deception.  I hope to see you again, soon.  May the gods ward and guide you.

Bei Zhou An

Armand scanned the letter a second time before meeting Brigit’s gaze.

“Did you know about this?”

“Armie… No… I can’t read.”

“I see,” he murmured, feeling her embarrassment as if it were his own.

“I know it’s dumb, I should have learned…”

“Brigit, you’re not dumb,” he soothed, “You probably never had the opportunity.”

“I always meant to,” she mumbled, lowering her face, “I want to.”

Armand put the letter down and rose to take her in his arms.  She seemed so forlorn and scared he would reject her in favor of someone with better breeding and an education.  She pressed her face to his shoulder, her breath warm and delicious against his throat.

“You still love me?”

Armand snorted and kissed her.

“Of course I do.  By the five gods, why would I abandon you over something so petty?”

“But you’re a mesmer and all… educated.”

“I’ve never even set foot in an academy.  I suppose others of my kind might look down their noses at you but I know there’s more to being human than carrying around a bunch of papers proclaiming how great you are.”

Brigit giggled and kissed him on the cheek, squeezing him fondly around the ribs.

“Will you teach me, though?” she asked, “I do want to know how to read.”

“Sure, once things have settled down,” he said, kissing her in return, “I really should finish what I’m doing here, first.”

Bright laughed and let him go.  She closed the lid on the heavy chest containing the silks and sat upon it, watching him eagerly.  Now Armand looked for the chest that contained their personal belongings, hoping he had stashed the big bulky book there.  He was feeling more than a little put out by Master Bei.  Had he actually expected him to read that enormous tome?  It was possibly the most boring thing he had ever come across.

Finally he uncovered it wedged deep beneath his spare sets of clothes, long disused and neglected.  The weather on the Winds of Fortune had caused him to stash it away.  The fact that it was immensely dry and tiresome to read had ensured that it stayed there.  Sighing, he dropped the book with a loud thump on the lid of a neighboring chest and unbuckled its bindings.  Armand cursed himself for not marking his place.  He would have to start over.

“How come the pages in the middle are stuck together?” Brigit asked, watching him flick through the pages, “Is that something scholars do when they don’t need that part any more?”

Armand blinked, wondering how he had missed that.  He flicked the pages carefully and discovered that there was indeed a small section of pages that moved as one.  It was barely thicker than the tip of his finger joint but in his resistance to read the dreadful thing he had never noticed it before.  Now it was his turn to blush as he turned to that section and discovered someone had glued the pages together.  He chuckled, realizing that Zhou must have done it and he had chosen a book he had not cared for.  It was well disguised and it had taken someone who did not focus on the words inside of it to spot the irregularity from the outside.  Armand felt the front surface of the first glued page and discovered a hollow.  Retrieving a small knife from his belt pouch, he sliced down into it carefully, uncertain what he would find there and concerned he might damage it.  He pulled the blade around the edges of the indentation in the pages, an area only slightly larger than his outstretched palm.  Peeling it back, he discovered a golden curved claw.  He lifted it out in the firelight and ran his finger along its outer edge where it was engraved with runes.  The thing blared with potent energies when he opened his mind to it.

“What is it?” Brigit asked as he studied it.

“I think it’s a dragon claw, but it’s enchanted somehow.”

“I wonder if it belongs to Shikai.”

Armand nodded.  That made sense, but for what purpose had she given the tip of her claw and what kind of enchantment did it hold?  Why did Zhou want this delivered to the Seer?  And for that matter, why was he so afraid someone in Cantha would know about it or seek to take it away?  Master Bei was an odd man.

Still, Armand respected him after a fashion.  His stay at the Crystal Palm compound had been pleasant and restful, his every need fulfilled as he recovered from the horrible ordeal with Ashekoroth.  He decided the only honorable thing to do was to perform the man’s request.  He retrieved one of his silk cravats from the chest and wrapped the claw carefully within it and resolved to keep it on his person until the quest was done.  He was about to place it inside his shirt when Brigit rose and took his hand.

“About that bedroom,” she murmured.

“You have a point,” he chuckled.

He grinned foolishly at her and set the claw aside before following her into the shadowy depths of the neighboring room.  Gods only knew when they would have an opportunity to be alone again.