“Here you are, Dread Highness,” Farin handed Klar a bowl of steaming hot stew. It was mostly mutton, with a hodge podge of rubbery roots. Farin’s own stew tasted plain, so she hunted for some salt and herbs to sprinkle into Klar’s, and managed to give it a passable flavor. Klar smiled weakly and shook her head. “Thank you, Farin. I’m not hungry. You eat it.” It was the second time that day she’d turned down food. And so it went, day in, and day out, until at last there was news of the princes and their company. That day, Klar ate.

Chieftain Brann, it turned out, had sent members of the Spymancer guild to keep an eye on the princes. Koll and Nava were doing well. The Chieftain gave his spies orders to pay close attention to them. Also, the younger princess had smuggled her friend along with them, a thing Klar was massively frustrated by. Klar’s spirits picked up otherwise, as they had all reached the Dawnwood unharmed, though they were approached by a large number of goblins at one point. Since then there was no word. They’d entered the Green Lion Inn in the heart of the Dawnwood, and Chieftain Brann’s men were called back for other business. Klar’s mood then resumed its descent.

“They’re strong men, all of them,” Farin said. “And they’ve got Nava to keep them from doing anything foolish. Well, more like she’ll take the blame if they do.”

Klar gave a hollow smile. “I know, Farin. You needn’t remind me.”

Farin nodded and went to work on Klar’s stew.

“Forgive me,” said the princess.

“Whatever for?” Farin asked.

Klar looked towards the entrance of her cave, out at the bright sunlight and people milling about, doing their best to recover from their tragedy. “You should have gone with your husband. You’d haven important task to keep you occupied, your family, and far better company than me.”

Farin puet the stew down on the stone trestle table the maps of Thrond had been laid out on. The maps were in disarray, and gathering dust. She rose from her stool and sat next to Klar. “There’s important work to do here, as well. And, truth be told,” she leaned forward and looked down at her boots, “I’m sparing my family from awful company by staying here.”

“To inflict it on me?” Klar managed a true smile, albeit faint.

“That’s right,” Farin snickered, “inflict one pain to mask another. I’m sounding like Nava. How I miss that girl.”

“She seems worthy as a dwarf could be.”

“She is, and more besides. She kept me together all those years.”

“You kept her together as well, Farin. You may not see it, but you have a way of giving others strength.”

Farin felt her eyes water. “That explains why I have none for myself, I suppose.” She felt Klar’s hand on her back, giving it a sisterly rub.

“Don’t confuse feeling hurt for being weak. All this is tearing my brothers apart inside, but off they went, on an errand with little chance of success, while I sit in a cave and sulk.”

Farin looked over her shoulder to Klar. Her eyes glistened, whether due to tears of some trick of the light coming into the cave, Farin couldn’t tell. “You don’t think they’ll succeed?”

Klar sighed and slumped against the back of the stone settle. “Gund and Halfur might scam some troops out of Derrion, so long as Ror can let them do the talking. And Valung will be missing more than an eye if Ror and Buri find him, but, that’s so many ifs…”

Farin leaned back and nodded. “I asked Koll what he thought the odds of finding the doomed were, with only one contact to go on.”

“And what did he say?”.

“He was hopeful,” Farin said quietly.

“Well,” Klar’s voice almost sounded cheery, “that’s good. Isn’t it?”

Farin shook her head. “He’s always hopeful, even when there’s no hope. And I’m never hopeful, even when there’s plenty. We once thought that would be a boon to our love, his being so far one way and me another. I was able to pretend it were so for a time, but after a few years we began to drive each other mad. Had he not been exiled to the underlands, he may have gone there on his own to get away from me.”

“You’ll have to introduce me to this other Koll some time, because the one I’ve met adores you to no end.”

“You’ve never seen us when we’re alone, Dread Highness.”

“No. But I’ve seen my my father vex two different wives, plus many other wedded pairs in the citadel. It’s not easy for anyone, Farin. For two people to live one life, struggle is unavoidable. And Farin, you’re my friend, and a citadel smith. Call me Klar.”

Farin felt her heart warming at Klar’s words, both the words of friendship and her reassurance. Though, to be sure, she was also feeling like a fool. She may be right, but she’s just proving how much better off Koll would be with another woman. I can’t even see a simple thing as a bit of strife for what it is. And now our whole kingdom is beset with such great woes, he needs me to give him strength, but that’s a thing I could never do even at the best of times.

“We’re the same, Farin. The man I loved was sent to the same place. And I, like you, now doubt that love, and if I could ever be deserving of him.”

“You and Chief Yormun’s nephew?”

Klar nodded. Her face looked strained.

“Would you tell me the tale? Unless it be too painful…”

Klar laughed. “Farin, if we’re to avoid painful topics right now, then we best be silent altogether. Oh dearest me, I should tell someone the tale. We kept it a secret. People may have guessed, of course, but…” Tears filled her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeve. “His mother, Gund’s sister Genneth, she died only a few years after birthing Buri.”

“Was he slowborn?” Farin asked. She’d wondered at his great size and apparent strength.

“No. I was, though. I might not look it, but I’m very strong. I wear loose gowns to hide it, I suppose. I’ve no use for my muscle. I’m no fighter, as you saw when we fought that troll. Ror, you oaf,” Klar laughed again. It was a sweet sound, and Farin felt her spirits lift.

“Under every bridge, hiding from the sun, lonely ugly troll, growls at everyone…” they sang together.

“You fought better than me,” Farin said.

“Lies! I only swung harder. You fight like a soldier. I fought like a panicked hen. Oh my, if Buri would have seen my floundering about like a human queen who’d never held a spear. All right, where was I? Oh. So when we small, Ror admired Buri’s size and strength, and, as I only recently learned, Ror thought Buri would be his friend if he thought he was as strong as he was. So Ror tried to start fights with every other boy in the citadel, hoping Buri would be impressed. Of course the other boys didn’t know what to do. Ror was their prince, and they feared punishment if they fought back. And Ror is freakish strong. I’d almost say he’s stronger even than Buri, if you could believe that. But Buri just saw him as a bully, and didn’t care if Ror was his prince. He’d constantly shout at Ror to leave the other children alone, and they’d go running behind him for safety. But, my brother is as stubborn as an Obaki ram, and only admired Buri even more.

“One day he made Halfur angry, and Halfur found a dead shrew to hide in Ror’s porridge when he ate luncheon. Ror leapt over the table and held Halfur to the ground with his bowl of porridge pressed over his face. I could hear Halfur choking, so I shouted for Ror to stop. But Yemi was crying louder than the Gatebreaker Bell, so I ran to him before Buri could and pried him off. Buri was impressed with my strength.”

“As am I! You should be proud of such a gift.”

“I feel, I don’t know, it just seems unlady-like. And it’s awkward. It’s not as if I trained hard in the Provings to become strong. It feels to me like a deformity, a mutation from my strangely long time in the womb.”

“Well, it got you a man’s attention.”

Klar snickered. “Yes. Yes it did.”

“Were you not close before that?”

“Buri’s always been quiet. His mother’s death hit both he and Gund hard. Also, his father left without a word, and never returned.”

“That’s awful! Why would he have done that? Does anyone know?”

“Yes,” Klar’s voice was dry. “Yes, people know. Fat chance getting any of them to tell you. You should know something, Farin, now that you’re a woman of the citadel. The citadel is where all the deepest and darkest secrets are kept. Even the catacombs beneath the minds are more likely to be unlocked, than the many troves of lies and hidden truths our capital boasts.”

Farin remembered her Chieftain pressing her into secrecy over the weakened mannarim alloy, and she felt uneasy. “Does… does Buri know why his father left?”

“No. And I don’t know that anyone does, but I’m sure of it. You asked if Buri and I were close. Not at first, but I always cared for him. I asked everyone, and I mean everyone, and when they all tired of my persistence, my father sat me down and for the first and only time in my life, he spoke harshly to me. That’s how I’m certain at least he knows. Halfi might not, but he does, and I suspect Gund and Urum do as well.”

“They’re very important to your father, aren’t they?”

Klar nodded. “They’re the oldest men in all the citadel, and not a stone of Thrond is unknown to at least one of them. Gund commands all the armies, and Urum all the guilds. What two men could have more power, save the man who commands the two of them? Father is fortunate to have them as friends. And he knows it, and he treats them well. Better than he ever treated my uncles, even.”

Farin felt the uneasiness grow, but Klar broke into a sudden fit of sobbing.

“Oh Uncle!” she cried.

Farin wrapped her arms around Klar and held her tightly. How can I be so selfish? I mope around all day and night, whinging to myself about being too mopey for my husband, while this poor girl lost her dear uncle and her parents are held prisoner. I’m such a fool! Such a selfish, dreary, black-hearted fool. Oh Koll, don’t come back. Stay out there, adventuring with Nava and Buri, and the princes. Don’t let me drag you down anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” Klar said, wiping her eyes again and struggling to collect yourself.

“Dread Highness, if you apologize for your well deserved grief one more time, I’m going to forge a mannarim door for this cave and lock you in it till you stop!”

Klar smiled and tried to laugh, but another sob came out instead. She clutched at Farin’s sleeve and mouthed the words ‘Thank you’. They sat there a while longer, both sharing tears over their fallen prince. Klar never did finish the tale of her and Buri’s love. Farin was content with what she’d heard, though, and would wait to hear the rest another day.

Klar became sleepy, and Farin lay next to her in her bed until the princess was sound asleep. She looked pretty while she slept. She clasped her hands over her heart, and her head tilted comfortably back on her pillow. Her lips parted slightly as if she awaited Buri’s kiss, and her breath was even and quiet. Farin thought of how many times she almost woke Nava with her laughter when she’d see the girl sleeping with her jaw drooped to the side and her tongue hanging over her slobbering lower lip. Koll looked quite a sight while he slept as well. She thought fondly of the many faces she’d seen on him while he snoozed. And he slept deep and often, nodding off many times throughout the day. She used to play a game with Nava where they’d try to decide which animal he looked like the most. He often woke to their laughter, asking what they were going on about, only to nod off again and assume yet another beastly aspect.

Farin rolled off of Klar’s bed and stood. The stew she made her had gone cold, but she was hungry enough to eat it. The air outside the royal family’s cave was chilly, as the sun had long since departed to cast its splendor on other lands. Campfires dotted the slopes of Mount Ennead like the eyes of a thousand beasts, and the Titan’s Torch pulsed like a beating heart above distant Obrus. A cold wind blew down the mountainside, causing Farin to hug herself and shiver.

“Maiden,” said a deep, somber voice.

Someone was draping a warm sable cloak over her shoulders. She turned quickly. It was a young man with a stern, handsome face. He had the look of wealth without labor, like a well but quickly forged sword. There were many young men with that look in Ormazum. She wondered if she’d seen him before. A patron, perhaps?

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“You do not,” he said reverently, “but all of my ilk know you.”

“And who is your ilk?”

“Those who stand tall for the dignity of our realm. I spoke loudly against those who wished your husband returned to the underlands. But beyond that, all in Ormazum know the skill of the Iron Maiden. You’re an icon to our people. It pleases me to see you alive.”

She regarded him cooly in the cauldron of starlight and distant campfires. His face revealed nothing, and he stood as still as a spur of rock. There were recently won scars on his left cheek, and on his hands as well. He fought during the battle, but he’s of Ormazum, not Forvangur. What a brave young man, to go to war though not a soldier. “This is a fine cloak,” she said.

“It would be my honor for you to keep it.” He then bowed and turned to leave.

“I’ll need your name if I’m to thank you.”

He turned and looked her in the eye, his face still refusing to yield any expression. “Bok,” he said with a stoic bow. “And I need no thanks. I fought our enemies with your steel. It’s I who owe you. Sleep well, Maiden.” He was gone before she could speak again.

Something small and heavy bumped into her. She looked away from the man and saw Yemi rubbing her eyes. “You almost knocked me over,” Farin said playfully.

“I guess neither of us had our eyes open,” Yemi said. She trotted off to the cave and climbed into bed next to Klar.

She’s a funny little thing. Farin wrapped Bok’s sable cloak tightly about her and went to the dugout that she, Koll and Nava had made their home. There were many of the Explorer’s Guild grouped around fires nearby. They all greeted her and gave her their good wishes for Nava and Koll. She thanked them kindly, then went to the dugout and lay in their bed. It was warm in their meager space, but their bedfurs felt cold without Koll under them, so she favored the cloak instead. It was warm and smooth to the touch, and smelt of clean stone and sweet cider. Also, it was the perfect size to cover just her, and somehow that made her feel less lonely. She felt sleep creeping up on her quickly, and she closed her eyes peacefully as her dreams took their stage