Dusk Over Arcath

Chapter 27

Canth rolled over onto a cloud.

His eyes opened.

Soft white enveloped his gaze. His hand stuck out, and he felt his fingers curl through haze.

What is this?

"You're awake."

He bolted upright, hands snatching for something to defend himself. A firm hand palmed his chest and gently pushed him back with embarrassing ease.

"Now, now, none of that."

Canth fought through a thick assault of dizziness between his eyes at sitting up so quickly. Once the daze cleared, he opened his eyes to stare at a bearded face.

A short, bald-headed face looked amusedly down at him. "You're awake alright. That's something. More than we expected, to be truthful."

"Where...?"

"The Hall of Gerdyn."

"Gerdyn.... Wait!" Canth started. The dwarf put a hand on his chest and guided him back against the bed.

"I'm sure you have a gripping story for us," the squat face chided, "but you can save it for a new hearth."

"No, it's dire –"

"Indeed?" The dwarf raised a busy eyebrow. "Not as dire as your circumstance. Ha! When we found you, you couldn't even walk. Not even speak. It was a miracle we found you before the bears did." His face darkened. "Well, again, that is."

Canth sunk into the sheets as he began to remember. "Castleia. Is she...?"

"She lives. For now."

The dwarf handed him a small wooden bowl with a murky brown liquid in it. "Sip this. You need some food."

Sniffing it suspiciously, he gave it a taste. It was warm and savory with just a hit of salt. "What is this?

"Urine," the dwarf answered absentmindedly, tending to something on a stone table behind Canth's bed. A clatter of metal answered with him.

Hoping the dwarf jested, Canth let his hunger take the best of him.

As he drank, Canth took in the room. It truly was a hall as the dwarf said. Perhaps some thirty feet across, it stretched for at least two hundred feet in either direction. The ceiling was far above, lost in gloom. From wherever the ceiling hung, long chains descended with stone balls at their ends that glowed with faint, white-blue light.

Footsteps rang from one end of the hall.

Canth peered down the tunnel to see who was approaching. An uncanny sight of dwarves greeted him. The short soldiers reminded him of the guards at the legion's fort that had seemed so like statues. These did as well, metal statues of living steel if it wasn't for the eyes that glowed with life beneath their helms.

Among them a different sort of dwarf walked. His beard was a single column of thick hair, belted in rings of gold. His eyes were deep, muddy green and a huge bearskin cloak folded around his shoulders, hiding his frame and armor beneath.

"Ghrun Vhol," Canth's caretaker grunted in greeting.

"Dagn," the well-dressed dwarf nodded. "And who is this?" Canth scrambled to sit up, but the dwarf just smiled. "Calm boy."

Ghrun. Canth recognized the term. It was something roughly equivalent to governor or general. Perhaps equal in rank with the legion's commander though with more administrative duties. What is such an official doing visiting wounded wanderers?