Chapter Thirty-Six


    “I’m curious how you know,” Ambrose said, arching an eyebrow.


    Herne growled,


    “What matters is your explanation, boy.”


    Ambrose resisted the urge to unleash his spirit and show this dwarf just how much of a boy he was. He never did respond well to threats or challenges. He blew out a breath through his nose, and his voice came out in a crackling growl of kindling embers.


    “Let’s make something really clear. I am not a boy. Among my people, I am a man. I have fought a man’s battles, and tooth and nail since the System arrived. I am a leader of my own settlement, and more importantly, I am a guest here who has given you a gift.”


    Ambrose bore his gaze into the dwarf’s gray eyes, almost as if he were trying to drill a hole.


    “You will show me the respect I am owed.”


    Herne leaned back in his throne, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the armrests.


    “I see there is good metal in you. You are right, of course, and I am sorry. I must still insist on an explanation before these negotiations continue.”


    Ambrose nodded curtly; he took a breath, calming his mind, and he relaxed his muscles.


    “If it isn’t obvious, I am unfamiliar with your culture. I had no idea your people and the dragons were at odds with one another. Besides, the dragon I brought with me is really a mythical item now, an axe with a consciousness of what was once a dragon in truth. It was a reward for completing a dungeon.”


    Herne appeared to relax himself, grip loosening on the arms of his throne; tension bled from his eyes, replaced by that merry twinkle.


    “I see. This makes sense, and as you said, you were unaware of our history.”


    Moments later, scribes came into the room, some carrying a table and chair for Ambrose to sit down. The dwarves had also brought a map, which impressed Ambrose. He had yet to see one of those.


    Negotiations began in earnest at that point, with scribes logging their words and preparing what would be the main document. There were many small details, things Ambrose frankly didn’t care about, down to a guest finding objects on each other’s land.


    One discussion was very important because it involved Kellan and his people.


    “This pact would not bind him, nor any other leader amongst your people. Unless they are on board, the Incursion will not be considered closed.”


    Ambrose ran his fingers through his beard, annoyed. He wanted to be done with this.


    “How about this: you consider hostilities over with them through me. If anyone claiming to be a leader among my people attacks you or takes any hostile action, I will deal with it or support you in dealing with it.” Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Herne eyed him,


    “You would do this thing? Side with a foreign people over your own?”


    Ambrose was already shaking his head,


    “I don’t see it that way, first of all. Closing these Incursions is a priority, and besides yours, I have two more to handle that likely will not be as peaceful. My people shouldn’t be fighting if they don’t have to be. Anyone that can’t see that is no ally of mine and endangers the whole. I will gladly correct that stupidity if it comes down to it.”


    Herne didn’t look convinced,


    “Loyalty is important, especially among dwarves. I must say, you aren’t showing much of it here.”


    Ambrose crossed his arms, scowling.


    “With all due respect, Your Majesty, you do not know me or what loyalty I’ve shown. I am loyal to the people of Avalon, and I am loyal to the goal I have set myself. Everything else, everyone else, is secondary to that goal.”


    Herne lowered his head before looking up,


    “Very well, I shall agree to that. I suspect that particular agreement will come due sooner than later. Those of your people living in this desert are led by a man determined to see us ousted from this land.”


    Ambrose silently agreed, even though it irritated him. Kellan wanted this mountain and had been willing to part as allies to see it done. He had an idea for that in mind: a show of strength. It would come later.


    There were agreements about trade, land, what would happen when conflict arose, and more besides. It was so dense and boring that Ambrose considered the violent approach more than once. Water and food were brought at one point, even though he insisted he didn’t need any.


    It was traditional, so Ambrose didn’t have much of a choice.


    He managed to work on crafting agreements into the deal so Avalon could commission from the dwarves. He felt fairly proud about that one. More than once, he seriously wished he had brought Andrea along. Finally, they ratified a treaty.


    There was so much to it; Ambrose wasn’t sure the dwarves hadn’t managed to add something sneaky to the document. He read it over many times just to make sure. He felt a little better after that. It boiled down to what he had wanted. Mutual peace, neither attacking the other unless provoked, with options to peacefully trade and teleportation arrays being connected.


    Herne would also send a contingent of dwarven warriors to help close the other two Incursions. Ambrose stretched, feeling happy he had accomplished everything he had set out to.


    [You have closed an Incursion through an alliance. Two reward options offered due to recent choices. Would you like insight into a resonating Icon or experience?]


    “What?”


    Ambrose couldn’t help but say allowed. Herne looked at him, head cocking,


    “Did you receive an interesting notification?”


    Ambrose was a little hesitant to share with the dwarf king, but finally he shrugged. Maybe he could tell him something about it. He told Herne about the notification.


    Herne…looked shocked.


    “Insight from the System on an Icon is invaluable, human. People have died seeking out such a reward. I would take it, were I you. You are safe here, so I would do it now.”


    I do not like agreeing with the dwarf, but he is correct.


    Akaroth grumbled in his mind.


    Shrugging, Ambrose confirmed his option, and suddenly, he was no longer in the room.


    Hammer blows echoed throughout the darkness. Above, set in a starless night was a full moon, ever bright, its pale light shown on the embers that sparked below with each strike of the hammer that echoed in the night.


    A man was hammering something on an anvil as black as the starless night above. Ambrose realized the man was him, and what he was hammering was also him.


    Bang! Clang!


    Hammer blow, after hammer blow. The smith, Ambrose, was trying to put something inside of the version of him being hammered on. Or maybe he was trying to enhance it.


    On the anvil, he glowed with inner fire. A storm of flame that wanted to be unleashed.


    In this place, he was the forge, and the forge was him.


    Like smoke, the scene faded away, Ambrose was blinking.


    “Ah, you’re back. Good. I hope you’re ready, human. Already you must keep your agreement, for your fellow humans are here, and they bay for blood,” Herne told him grimly.