"But there's no other way," Jim Harad shook his head. "The Cynthians won't play fools forever. A super-heavy trebuchet standing sixty-four feet tall will be plainly visible from their walls over four thousand feet away. The Cynthians who questioned us will quickly recognize us—'refugees' hauling timber."

  Walin Barklo Vaslov feigned ease. "Maybe they won't send troops so fast," He traced lines in the dirt with a stick. "Cynthia's main city has no western gate. The nearest hidden door or tunnel is reportedly on the far side. Even as a royal escape route, such a passage could accommodate only three horses abreast. The Cynthians won't risk exposing these secret exits by using them carelessly."

  "Don't forget the Black Riders," Wilton said. "Their main camp is in West Wymar. They could sweep into Sunblaze Forest with ease. We," his eyes burned like coals, "need our own plan."

  "Very well." Toyef cleared his throat. "From what you've all said, I have a proposal. If—and this is only if—we fail, and our friend can't breach the walls, one thing is certain—"

  "The Godma cavalry at West Wymar's edge will retreat immediately."

  "—Exactly, Wilton. In that case, we flee without delay. No one will come to our aid."

  "Agreed," Walin murmured. "And if we encounter the Black Riders?"

  "Then may fortune favor us, Master Harad," the red-haired dwarf snorted. "Even ten Wiltons couldn't guarantee escape from those caped demons."

  "No, we couldn't," Wilton affirmed.

  "But should luck smile upon us and the Triad of Destiny grant their blessing—forgive me for invoking southern gods—the Godma forces will follow their original plan and storm Cynthia through the breach. Then we can wait briefly for reinforcements before departing together. Their black steeds outpace ours by far."

  "Or they never planned to rescue us at all."

  "That's the worst scenario, Wilton," Toyef Bilinski heaved a sigh. "If fortune truly abandons us..."

  "Then the young ones leave first."

  All eyes turned to Walin.

  He continued, "And the mother with her child."

  The red-haired dwarf burst into laughter. Thorin Durin and Fendi Firshield were roasting beef, Blue Rascal and Green Varmint tickled each other mercilessly, the boy contemplated how fireflies produced their glow, and the startled mother shrank into the grass.

  "You're young yourself, Walin," Toyef said. "Barely past a hundred."

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  "I meant those younger still."

  Jim asked, "Even if they leave first, what then? The Black Riders will overtake them."

  "We'll stay to hold them off, or make them believe we four are the architects of this scheme... Whatever it takes to ensure they escape safely from this blood-soaked forest."

  "Four of us? I'm not even ninety," the brown-bearded dwarf gave a bitter smile. "You're right, Master Harad. You should go with them..."

  "Go fuck yourself, drunkard Toyef," Jim Harad's fists clenched tight. "I said, go fuck yourself."

  "You're all talking nonsense," Wilton's voice rose uncharacteristically. "We are dwarves, as are they. No dwarf has ever fled battle or abandoned comrades. We've resisted giants, slaughtered elves, and challenged humans. Even in our darkest hours, dwarves have never forsaken their kin..."

  "We don't seek glory now. Let humans chase that. We lost it long ago when we invaded the elves and Illuviλofer," Walin Barklo Vaslov drew his dagger and thrust it into the ground. "What we need are witnesses—those who have seen our magnificent works built upon this earth and beneath these skies. Someone to ensure humans honor their promises and break our chains. Someone to carry our story back, to testify to our deeds, to explain why we committed these sins, and to reveal how humans will repay us dwarves—and all non-human races. They must be our messengers," he turned toward the youngsters, "we can only rely on them to return and tell our tale."

  Wilton fell silent. "You've made your decision." The black-bearded dwarf nodded. "They may refuse to leave," Jim said. "Fendi at least. He'll want to fight alongside us to the end."

  "Thorin won't leave either!" Toyef gnashed his teeth. "Nor those twins!"

  "Easy, brother," Walin said soothingly. "The worst may not come to pass."

  Toyef Bilinski looked at Walin and said, "I too hope for the best—that we needn't attack innocent people for Godma's benefit. That our guilds won't be forcibly disbanded, our workers arbitrarily dismissed. That we won't face an eighty percent residency tax, and that in courts, humans will be willing and permitted to stand for dwarves and other humanoid races, while dwarf lawyers may defend humans. But these hopes..." he sighed, "they're too distant. Far too distant."

  Walin offered no response.

  "Dinner is ready, gentlemen," Thorin Durin said shyly, seizing a long-awaited moment to speak.

  "Thank you, lad," Jim Harad rose, ruffling Thorin's red hair. "Come, everyone." He gazed down at the gathering. "Time to savor our last supper."

  Medros Ancard peered through the candlelight, struggling to make out Elisa's features. "Who are you?! You're not Daisy Clawyn, are you?"

  The old man wore round spectacles that gave him the appearance of having four eyes. Gray-haired and stooped, his four eyes alternated examining the girl from top to bottom. Elisa sensed this man must once have been tall and dignified, with confidence befitting his frame. (But now he's withered,) she thought, (like a collapsed tower.)

  "That's correct, I'm not Lady Clawyn."

  "Hmm? You're not?" He grew agitated, like an insect fluttering its wings. "Then why are you here? What brings you here?" The governor ignored the maid's attempt to explain and seized Secretary Portilo by the collar. "Why did you bring her, Portilo? Hmm?"

  The secretary remained unfazed. "She requested an audience, my lord."

  "She wanted to see me? Hmm? You?" His gaze fixed on the maid's chest. "What do you want from me?"

  "I have something to tell you, my lord," Elisa calmly endured his stare.

  "Something to tell me?" Confusion twisted Medros Ancard's face. Before the maid could speak, he suddenly trembled violently. "What do you need to say? Speak quickly! Tell me what's happened to her!"