Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

Silence.

The three Dherg laughed.

“Wow. So she didn’t make a wheel,” Frost said and looked at Roan with newfound respect. “You made the wheel. The first one invented by your kind, I’m guessing. Very impressive in a sad and stunningly pathetic sort of way.”

“Don’t call Woan pathetic!” Gifford said, the fire once more in his eyes. “She’s bwilliant.”

Frost scowled. “Belgriclungreians have used the wheel for hundreds of years, mostly in mines. We put carts on them. That’s like what the cripple is making. Our wheels are made of metal, as are the axles. That’s what the pole part is called. We move thousands of pounds of rock with them.”

“Thousands? How many Belgric…Belgriclung…oh, blessed Grand Mother! There must be an easier way of referring to your kind that isn’t as insulting as Dher…well, that Fhrey word. How about Bels?”

Scowls all around. “We don’t jingle.”

Persephone had no idea what that meant.

“How about little men?” Roan asked.

Flood’s brow rose. “We are not men! And our size is perfect. It’s your kind that is freakishly tall.”

“But you are little. How about dwarfs?” Persephone said. “You know, like dwarf rabbits or dwarf wheat. They are smaller but just as good. In the case of dwarf wheat, it’s even better because we get higher yields with less acreage. Would that be okay?”

The two frowned but shrugged.

“Fine. So, how many dwarfs would it take to move a thousand pounds with your carts?”

“On level ground? One.”

“One?”

“Well, it takes a bit of effort to get it rolling, but then not much at all. Of course we affix our wheels to the axles and grease the bearings.”

“Grease the bearings?” Roan asked, looking at the little man with stern intensity.

“Yeah, at the places where the axles rub on the wheels.”

Roan nodded, a smile forming.

“Without using metal,” Persephone said, “doing what she’s trying to do here, could this thing carry a lot of clay urns of wheat and barley? And what about jugs of water and beer?”

“Easily,” Frost said. “But why not use barrels? They’d be much lighter.”

“What’s a barrel?” Persephone and Roan asked together.

Frost raised his hands in exasperation. “I’m starting to understand why the Fhrey refer to your kind as Rhunes. A barrel uses planks of wood bound with hoops of metal. Smaller than your pithos, but they weigh a fraction of all that clay.”

“And that, what did you call it, wheel? Could you help Roan carve more of them so we could make several of these carts?”

“Well, we could…but it’d be faster to down one of those huge trees from the forest and just saw disks from its trunk.”

“Saw?” Roan asked.

Frost rolled his eyes. “Dear Drome, are you really so backward? Yes, a saw is used to cut through wood. We could use one to make wooden wheels and staves for the barrel.”

“And how long would that take?” Persephone asked.

“Well, not long if we could get our hands on some metal. Rain, do you think you could dig some up?”

He nodded. “The surface around these parts has been picked clean, but there is plenty below.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Persephone said. “You help Roan, and I’ll ask Arion to talk with you. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Frost nodded.

“What do you say, Roan? Wanna work with the dwarfs and learn to make some new things?”

Tears were back in Roan’s eyes. She nodded enthusiastically while Gifford beamed a smile in her direction.

—

In less than three days, the Dherg had helped Roan create six carts and more than a dozen barrels, which were truly remarkable. When first filled with liquid, they leaked, but then the wood swelled and the metal bands held the staves in place until not a single drop escaped. Not only was Persephone able to pack up every last grain in the storage pit, but she had six full barrels of water to ensure that the people of Dahl Rhen wouldn’t go thirsty on the trip even if the streams along the way were bone-dry from the summer’s heat.

The saw was an even greater miracle. With it, a dozen wheels had been created in just a few hours, simply by slicing through the trunk of a large tree they felled at the eaves of the forest. Watching two of the Dherg push and pull it back and forth was a comical sight. Especially since they argued constantly.

With the tasks completed, it was time for Persephone to honor her promise, and she offered to act as an intermediary. She’d already obtained Arion’s consent to the meeting, and given how helpful the Dherg had been, she wanted it to go well. Besides, the Dherg were better at speaking Rhunic than Fhrey and she didn’t want any mistakes in communication to cause a rift before their request was fully aired. She led the three over to a small lean-to that was acting as Arion’s living quarters.

“Is now a good time?” Persephone asked in Fhrey.

“Good as any.”

Persephone was impressed with the change in the Dherg’s demeanor. Gone was the hostility and distrust, and they reverently bowed in greeting. “As I mentioned, the dwarfs have been very helpful. Our travel to Tirre will be much easier. They have a problem and would like to speak to you.”

“Dwarfs?”

“Yes, that’s what we’re calling them now. Can I impose on you for their audience?”

“Yes, of course.”

Persephone smiled, stepped back, and Frost came forward. “Flood and I are from Nye, that’s a small town in the south of Belgreig. We met Rain in Neith.”

Persephone translated for Arion, “These three live in a city across the sea.” Then to Frost she said, “I’ve heard of Neith. That’s directly across the Blue Sea from Dahl Tirre. It’s near Caric, right?”

“Yes. Caric is a small port city, but Neith was the first home of the Belgriclungreians. It’s largely abandoned now. Few people go into the mountain anymore. Mined out, they say. But Flood and I thought we could still find treasure there. So we put together a team and set off. That’s how we met Rain.” He gestured in the direction of the younger Dherg, and Rain bowed once more. “Rain is a digger—the finest there is. Flood and I are builders.”

“Hah!” Flood erupted. “One of us is.”

Frost ground his teeth and glared up through the bristles of his brows. “When are you going to get over that? It wasn’t my fault that the scaffolding broke. And besides, you weren’t even hurt.”

“Then why do I have this limp?”

“You don’t have a limp!”

Flood folded his arms. “No thanks to you, I can tell you that.”

“You’re an idiot.” Frost shook his head and smiled apologetically in Arion’s direction.

Before Frost could continue, Flood retorted, “Yeah, well, your mother slept with the entire village.”

“We’re brothers!” Frost replied.