Chapter Nine
WHEN I AWOKE SOMETIME LATER—not viewing the sun or stars was confusing my inner rhythms—I moved to my side, sleepy, eyes lazy, and reached for Asdren.
Cock stiffening, I imagined taking some time to explore each other more.
Perhaps he would move me onto my back to enter me as I had hoped for last night. Longing spiked as my prick grew fatter.
My hand fell to a cold bed. Blinking slowly, I sat up, rolling my shoulder while scanning the room for my lover.
Lover. I had lain with a mercenary, and I liked it.
Not that feeling things for someone who walked a delicate line between lawful and unlawful was new.
I once had a crush on a wild young elf who lived down the lane from us.
He was the one who tried to claim my arse and failed rather miserably.
Afterward, I suspected he was only lying with me due to my last name.
I have since heard that he had joined the bandit ranks.
Sad, but all too common for those with no money and no way out of poverty.
“Asdren?” I called, pulling the blanket up to my chin.
The room was empty, the fire low, his clothes and saddlebag nowhere to be seen.
Had they left without me?! Throwing the cover aside, I tumbled from the bed just as the door opened.
Asdren stepped inside. “Ah! You did not leave. Good morn. I woke with a keen urge.”
I rushed to him, cock bouncing, smiling widely. Eager to taste his mouth as he tossed me onto the bed to have his way with me. His sight darted to my prick and then flew back to my face.
“We’re moving out soon, boy-o.” I skidded to a halt beside the tub, the surface of the water murky with dirty soap scum.
His demeanor was confusing. Brusque. Not at all like the man who had petted me until I fell asleep in his arms. “Get your pert arse covered and meet us in the common room. No dallying about.”
“But I…last night…I thought…” My words were as tangled as my thoughts. “Did you not enjoy our time together last night?”
How I wish I had wrapped the blanket around myself. I felt exposed.
“Course I did. You’re a pretty elf. Real pretty. But we got more pressing matters to tend to than the call of a hard cock. Time is money. Sooner we get into the tunnels, the sooner we get out. Get dressed. We leave soon.”
He looked me over as one would a discarded shoe and then left the room.
Truly, at that moment, I felt like an old slipper.
Worn thin by the rough heel of a dwarf. Anger and hurt flared up inside me as I stalked about gathering my things.
What a foolish twat I was! I had let myself feel things for Asdren, just as I had for Pasil, and they both had trounced on my heart.
At least I had not lain with Pasil. A drunken kiss was all we had ever shared.
It had done nothing for him. For me, it had blossomed in my soul like a seedling long denied sun.
Now I had done the same thing, only with a man who I had known had only one love. Coin.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I growled to myself as I tugged on my boots one by one.
“Stupid dumb elf. Dumb. So dumb. Unable to even read properly. Stupid in all aspects of life. Stupid. Stupid!” I threw my left boot across the room.
It hit the wall with a dull thud. I rose, swiped at the dampness on my cheeks, and went to fetch my boot.
My injured shoulder was tender, but my heart ached far worse.
When I joined the troupe in the common room, the Sable Legion were waiting at the bar, finishing up a hearty breakfast. Smuta grinned at me, as did the twins, when I stalked past. Asdren sat with his nose in a mug of something hot, his sight locked on the bar.
“Chirp, you need to get some food into—”
The rest of Smuta’s words were sliced off when the door to the pub slammed behind me. I went directly to the small group of ponies waiting at a hitching post.
Hello, friend. I go now. Foot happy. You make foot good. Apples. Sing song.
I went to my knees beside Newt. Arms around his neck, I buried my face into his soft hair, inhaling the scent of horse.
“From this day forth, I will spend my days with the beasts. My heart will be stone for any who do not walk on four legs or fly.”
You have sad face. Sad friend. Eat apple. Sing song.
The simplicity of the pony’s life made me smile then moan. Why could my life not be as uncomplicated? I held him tight, humming the words to the song the horses loved so much before I pulled free, eyes moist, to check the ponies over. Newt’s bruise was much improved, the swelling down completely.
You and I have healed well. I placed his foot back on the stone walkway.
Apples. Apples are happy. Face is sad. Apples make sad face happy. He tossed his head as if to nod in agreement to his own thoughts. I gave him a pat on the rump.
I will find some apples.
Apples in bag on back. Many apples.
Smiling slightly, I found two apples, sliced them, and spread the treats around for all the horses. I was sliding my eating dagger back into its sheath on my hip when Asdren and the others emerged. He flung a chunk of bread at me while giving me a stern look.
“Not sure what crawled up your arse, but we can’t haul you around like a babe when you pass out from lack of energy.
Eat, get over yourself, and follow along.
” I caught the mini loaf of dark rye. With all eyes on me, including those of early morning passersby hauling goods to market, I tore a hunk off with my teeth.
Chewing like an angry stout, I stalked around Newt, untied him, and led him downward.
I had no idea where I was going other than down.
Down was where the mines were, where we would find the tunnels that would get us to the tundra exit, and where I might club Asdren over the head with a rock.
The others caught up quickly, the twins and Smuta shooting me worrisome looks as we began the slow, circular descent.
The deeper into the ground we went, the hotter and dirtier it became.
The less homes and businesses, aside from hovels where the poorest of the poor dwelled close to the mines.
The rock dust was thick as fog now, billowing out of holes picked into the rock with regularity.
It made my eyes water, my skin feel gritty, and my lungs unhappy.
I called a pause to smear some clear gel under the pony’s nostrils to try to catch some of the grit.
For myself, I tied a cotton handkerchief around my face, leaving just my eyes and the tips of my ears exposed.
“Good thinking for the ponies,” Asdren called but did not cover his face, nor did Smuta or the twins.
Perhaps they were used to the grime, but I was not.
Never again would I question whether I truly belonged in the forests.
Clean air was a blessing from the goddess.
“We’re soon to arrive at Grimmane mines. You let me do the talking, Chirp.”
I shot him a glare that he blinked at but did not comment on. Surely he knew I was angry with him. If not, when we had a moment alone, I would tell him just what I thought of him and his shitty behavior. Then I would club him with a rock.
“You two got a burr under your balls?” Smuta asked, stepping closer to give a line of filthy miners the right of way.
They were covered in thick gray dust, their beards and skin so dirty you could see nothing of their flesh, just the brightness of their eyes.
The ponies they led, as well as the carts full of stone and gems they pulled, were just as grimy.
They looked as exhausted as the dwarves walking along with them, the poor things.
What a terrible life for a creature. Stuck down under the mountains, no grass to nibble, no pastures to run in, no sun to bask under.
I had only been down here for a day—or so I assumed, as there was no sun, so who truly knew—and I could already feel the stone pressing in on me.
How these people spent their entire lives living here was beyond belief.
“My balls are fine,” Asdren replied as he moved to a small alcove with a stone statue of the Deepdelver, mistress of the veins.
With a soft whisper of a prayer, he knelt before the goddess as he placed a large red stone, polished to a brilliant shine, atop a mountain of other such rocks.
They spilled out of the alcove onto the ground below the grotto.
Several miners stopped to join in the short prayer, their picks on their thick shoulders.
“Goddess of the Veins, guide our picks as you guard our path. Let the deep stone yield its bounteous gifts to us.”
Once the prayer ended, the miners studied Asdren closely.
He nodded at them and then herded us into a wide shaft.
The floors were thick with dirt, rock dust, and pony shit.
The rounded walls held sconces with flickering torches, the tallow used on the torches filling the tunnel with the foul smell of burning animal fat as the flames blackened the walls.
“This is not pleasant,” I mumbled into my handkerchief, my grip on Newt’s reins tight. No one other than me seemed to mind, or if they did, they failed to comment.
“These here are the drifts,” Asdren announced as we moved down the sloping tunnel.
He waved a hand at tunnels that branched off from the main one we were now moving through.
“Once we got the main tunnel secure, we start branching off it following the veins. This mine here is one of the biggest producers of amethyst for Melowynn. Back when I was working the pickaxe, this mine would give up about five tons per season, which ranks it as one of the highest producers in the Witherhorns.”