Whisper of Waves

67

21 Eleint, the Year of the Wave (1364 DR)

THE WINERY

Hrothgar stood with his arms folded, watching Devorast gather up his meager possessions. Vrengarl was still working on the wall for the human girl. The tent already seemed empty.

“It’s a mistake, Ivar,” the dwarf grumbled.

Devorast tied the strings of his rough, tattered bag. He smiled a little, but that was all.

Hrothgar sighed and said, “You’ll be a noble’s plaything.”

Devorast straightened, looking down on the dwarf. Hrothgar drew himself up too, though he was barely over half the human’s height.

“He’s not a ‘noble,’” Devorast said. “Technically, he’s just another senator, but they keep the senate at an equal number and he provides a tie-breaking vote, should that be necessary. From what I’ve heard, it almost never is. He has other responsibilities, too, but he’s no king.”

“Bah, don’t fool yerself, boy. He’s as much a king as any other, and should you tie your fate to him, he’ll burn you to cinders before he’s through.”

Devorast laughed at that and sat on the edge of his cot.

Hrothgar tried to go on, to rant and rave about the ransar of Innarlith and how Devorast going to work for him was the worst mistake of all time, but he had to admit-to himself at least-that he didn’t really believe that.

“So that’s it, then,” the dwarf said. “The ransar sends for you, and you go, just like that, leaving the winery undone.”

It was a lame attempt to play on Devorast’s inability to leave a job half done, but then-

“It’s not my winery,” the human said. Hrothgar blew a breath out his nose and sat on his own cot.

“What you haven’t said, boy, is why,” Hrothgar said. “Why now? Why the ransar himself?”

“The man he sent said the ransar received a letter from a trusted colleague that described my idea for a canal to join the Inner Sea with the great western oceans,” Devorast explained. “If he’s serious, if he’ll pay for it, organize the city-state around it, it’s worth at least riding in his coach back to the city to discuss.”

The dwarf shook his head, but they both knew he agreed.

“It’ll be lonely here without you, boy,” Hrothgar said, standing and putting out a hand to Devorast.

Devorast took his hand and said, “If he is serious, and we start work, I’ll need good stonecutters.”

“Aye, you bet your life you will. Vrengarl and I will be waiting to hear from you.”

The ransar’s man, who’d been waiting outside the tent the whole time, cleared his throat. The two of them shared another smile then Devorast walked out.

Hrothgar stood in the middle of the tent for a while, just listening to the sounds of the worker’s camp all around him.

“Bah,” he said after a time, then went back to working stone.