Page 55 of Ale Storm

“Yes,” Jildarin stated and looked toward Rylana. He glanced at the horn, then held her gaze for a moment, before considering the visitors.

Rylana joined him in facing a gray-haired, barrel-chested female dwarf wearing an ornamental gray and gold-trimmed sash with a king’s crown emblem. Two bare-armed male dwarves with impressive musculature stood to either side of her, an axe and a mace hanging off their broad belts, tranquility knots tying them in place. With expressionless faces, they looked distinctly like bodyguards.

“We are seeking your business partner, Rylana Avandar,” the female said, still addressing him, though Rylana now stood beside Jildarin.

The males eyed her and the horn.

“She is present.” Jildarin’s eyes slitted. “You will neither harm her nor attempt to take her from the lair of a dragon.” Power and magic—or maybe that was menace—emanated from him. Was it possible he’d spoken to Mya that morning and learned of the attack in the alley? “I require her to perform my calculations for me.” The look he gave Rylana was still heated, and she doubted calculations were what he had in mind.

“It is not our intent to do either of those things,” Shebly said. “I’ve come because she wrote a letter to King Ekton.”

“Oh.” Rylana blinked. “He received it already? Or one of his people did? Or…” She looked at the diplomat and wondered if the local dwarves might have intercepted the mail. Even though she’d paid for the speedy-delivery option, there hadn’t been time for her letter to arrive and a response to be sent back.

“He received it and sent a message to my office via magical communications.”

“Ah. That’ll cut down on some time.”

“Yes.”

“What is it that you desire?” Jildarin asked.

Rylana was tempted to thrust the horn at the dwarves, but a sash didn’t necessarily mean the female was who she said she was. She’d known about the letter, but after her encounters with dubious dwarves, Rylana wanted a little more proof of identity before relinquishing the artifact.

“I see that you’ve found what appears to be the Horn of Agomoral,” Shebly said. “King Ekton expressed curiosity and interest that it might have been rediscovered after all this time. According to his family’s history, it was stolen by a palace guard who departed with some other valuables. When the royal troops caught up with him, he no longer possessed any of the items and claimed he’d sold them. During an altercation, he was slain.”

“An altercation with swords?” Rylana asked.

Shebly smiled faintly. “I believe axes were more popular during that era. Regardless, he died before the location of the valuables could be extracted from him. Some of the other items were recovered over the years after appearing in various markets, but the horn never was. The king said he would offer a reward if you had indeed found it, but I’m not trained enough in identifying antiques to have any idea if that’s real or a replica.”

“Someone thinks it’s real,” Rylana murmured.

When the dwarf raised her bushy eyebrows, Rylana explained the two males as well as the female who’d followed her in the market. Any one of the dwarves might have been responsible for the ransacking of the storeroom. Or someone else altogether could have done it.

“I certainly didn’t send anyone, and I doubt the king did either,” Shebly said. “I only learned about the horn this morning.”

“Because of the letter I sent to him?”

“Correct. I regret that you’re being troubled.” Shebly offered an apologetic bow to Rylana and Jildarin. “I came to tell you that King Ekton is going to come personally to Tranquility. He’ll bring his court historian, who has a knack for identifying magic as well as having encyclopedic knowledge about everything related to our people.”

Jildarin had been listening without much expression, but he stirred now. “The dwarven king will come here? To the Dragon Diner?”

“I could arrange that, or you could meet him in another location.” Shebly extended her hand toward Rylana. “The offices where I work are adequate for⁠—”

“He will come here,” Jildarin stated in an imperious tone. “You will inform me of his favorite foods, and I will make a meal to please his palate.”

Rylana eyed Shebly, doubting a diplomat would appreciate being given orders by a chef. Even a dragon chef.

The two bodyguards exchanged looks. Maybe they wondered if they would be pressed into duty protecting the king when he arrived. Shebly’s eyebrows rose again.

“King Ekton does enjoy meals,” she allowed.

“He has doubtless heard of my victory in the Golden Whisk,” Jildarin said, “and will appreciate the opportunity to dine here.”

“He wants to put the king’s name on his plaque of important individuals who’ve dined here,” Rylana told Shebly so the dwarf wouldn’t think any darker ambitions prompted Jildarin’s words.

Thus far, he had only added Queen Fareesa to the plaque. Apparently, he didn’t consider any of the other diners who’d enjoyed the fare worthy of a place on it. Never mind that they’d been visited by lords and ladies, prominent business people, and numerous theater, opera, and symphony luminaries.

“I’ve heard of the Golden Whisk competition,” Shebly said. “I don’t know if the king in his underground capital a hundred miles away keeps abreast of cultural events in Tranquility.”