Page 115 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
Merry looked around him, his gaze wistful. “I don’t remember.”
“Probably for the best, as you’re about to blow it up.”
“Maybe, but there are some memories I should like to have had.”
Oakley put his arm on Merry’s shoulder.
Eirwen knew what he meant. For all the pain of her father’s death, she was glad, impossibly glad, that she had known him, and she would have braced that pain again for a chance to know her mother.
Cole and the Huntsman came out of a nearby house, holding a ladder between them. Wren dragged out planks behind them. They added the lumber to the pile they were collecting to fix the broken walkway up to the sunstone. Onyx took them to get started, while Eirwen helped Merry and Oakley lay some explosives.
“Do you really remember nothing about living down here?” she asked the younger dwarf.
He shook his head. “Bits and pieces. Snippets. Images is all.”
“How old were you when–”
“Not much more than a toddler, although old enough to hold a toy sword, apparently!”
Eirwen thought it was strange to have forgotten something so important, the beginning chunk of your life. Then again, it was several centuries ago.
“Doyou miss it?”
Merry glanced at her. “In a way, yes. I miss what could have been, what I don’t recall… my parents’ faces. The friends I lost. The life I could have lived.” He sighed. “Silly, right? It’s hardly like I’m miserable. It’s actually all worked out for the best.” He looked across at his husband, laying explosives at the foot of a building. His expression turned dreamy.
I wonder if anyone will ever look at me that way,thought Eirwen, and then her cheeks prickled.I wonder if someone already does.
Something clinked a few streets away. The three of them froze, laying down anything in their hands. They waited for another sound. Eirwen drew her sword.
Something heavy was being dragged across the stones. People were moving. Too heavy for shades, too much clinking. Armour?
They pressed themselves into the dark as a dozen knights turned the corner. Half of them carried a long, covered object between them, the size of a coffin. Merry and Oakley exchanged curious glances.
Don’t look at us,Eirwen prayed.Don’t look in this direction.
There were too many to fight, if a brawl broke out. The only move would be to flee–
One of them caught her eye.
“Halt!” he yelled. The guards tightened around the stolen treasure, drawing their swords. Merry moved for his pipe, but another guard twitched for his pistol.
“Stop,” said Eirwen, lowering her sword, “we have no quarrel with you. Take your treasure and be gone.”
There was a whispering amongst them. The captain stepped forward. “Princess,” he nodded curtly.
Eirwen swallowed. She had been hoping no one would recognise her, that they would decide two dwarves and a young girl weren’t any threat to them.
“If you know who I am,” she said, trying a different tactic, “then the crown you answer to is mine by right. I order you to leave us be.”
A few of the guards looked down at their feet, sharing awkward glances. They clearly did not wish to move against the princess.
“I cannot allow that, princess though you be,” said the captain. “I must take you back to Her Majesty.”
“You will do no such thing.” Cole appeared behind them, striding to Eirwen’s side.
“Prince Cole! What are you–”
“If you won’t recognise her authority, recognise mine.Iorder you to leave this place. Report back to my mother if you must, but harm the princess at your own peril.” He drew his sword. One guard shuddered.
