TriNovel Icevein: Chapter 7
Icevein: Chapter 7
As Peridot entered the Owner’s Drift, she saw Rightauger standing in front of their stonehold door speaking with Garnet, daughter of Warmcoat. When she saw Peridot approach, Garnet smiled to her, waved, touched Rightauger’s shoulder, said something to him that Peridot didn’t hear, and headed further down the drift to her own family’s hold. Peridot squinted after her. She was one year past rhundal and still neither married nor apprenticed. They had all grown up together, but that hardly excused her touching him.Rightauger turned to meet Peridot, and as he did, she saw that his trousers were torn and bloody at the left knee, but she also saw at a glance that they were not otherwise dirty—not even limestone dust. Once again, he had not been in the mine. No doubt, he was training with the Ridge Wardens.
“Do you think Shineboot doesn’t know you’re skipping out?” she asked. And why Thrushbeard allowed him among the wardens, she did not know.
“That isn’t your concern,” he answered.
The stonehold door was already open, and Rightauger stepped inside. Peridot followed, carrying her baskets of radishes and turnips. Her mother had kept up her gardening during the fair weather—an occupation that made wire-making a joy to Peridot by comparison—and Peridot had jumped at the chance to carry in the full baskets from the terracesrather than remain under the sun.
By the time she had stored away the vegetables in the larder and rekindled the samovar coals, Rightauger was seated on a cushion in the reception chamber, sewing thick new patches onto his mining trousers. Even though their stonehold was beyond wealthy, it did not make sense to replace trousers each time they were torn in mining. Instead, knees and elbows were repaired again and again with heavy, multi-layered wool patches.
“Why don’t you just obey? Your rhundal is little more than ayear away. Then at least you won’t show father such disrespect.”
“I mean him no disrespect,” Rightauger answered, looking toward the inner passage. He had obviously not checked to see if others were around, but Peridot knew they were alone in the hold. “And you always think the worst of me. I was not skipping. We work in shifts, you know, and tomorrow is Day of Deliverance.”
She realized her error. She assumed, and her irritation had clouded her judgment.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Her oversight irritated her more. She it was Day of Deliverance tomorrow. She would be up preparing for the feast for many hours and rising early again for more. The workings would actually cease the shift before Day of Deliverance, an unusual occurrence when the whole mine joined in on one schedule of waking for the sake of feasting. “But just because I’m wrong this time doesn’t mean you haven’t done it.”
Rightauger sighed but didn’t respond, focusing on his sewing. She couldn’t help but assess his stitches, but they were close and neat.
“What are you going to do after rhundal? You know father doesn’t want you with the wardens.”
“He’ll have to change his mind. I can do what I want after rhundal.”
“Father is the If he does not wish you to join the wardens, he can stop you.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to go.”
“Go?”
“Stake my own claim. Do something for myself.”
“That’s a lot of mining for someone who doesn’t want to mine.”
“I like mining.”
Peridot snorted.
“Whatever made me question it?” she asked.
“Don’t you ever want to go somewhere else?”
“Why? We have a place here. It is the greatest claim there is.” She hardly even wanted to go to the surface, let alone beyond the walls. It was comforting under the stone, and the sky was disconcerting.
“So this is all you want? Making wire with mother?”
“Mother is one of the most respected—”
“—I know she is,” he interrupted. “I’m asking .”
She didn’t like that he turned the question on her. Peridot didn’t want to work wire her whole life, not by any means. She was excited for the break of Day of Deliverance, even with all the preparations. But she didn’t want to hand Rightauger an easy victory.
“Forget it,” he said, clearly tired of waiting for her response. “You’ll probably be a wif and raise and fry cave bread for the next two hundred years.”
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“And so what if I did?”
“It’s fine for . You’re a gilna.”
“There’s enough to be done here for many lifetimes, even for .”
“And many still live in Deep Cut. But left, didn’t they?”
She didn’t need to ask who were. The Owners. Father, Uncle Sledgefist, Uncle Hobblefoot, Uncle Shineboot, Savvyarm, Warmcoat, with Uncles Greal and Khlif joining later with their mother.
“They had to. There was nothing left for them there.”
“Maybe there is nothing left for me here.”
“You’re the son of the !”
Rightauger stood abruptly.
“You don’t understand,” he said, and took his trousers, needle, and thread down the hall.
“No I don’t,” she said quietly. It wasn’t that she had to argue with him. But he was infuriating, sometimes. She felt sorry for having started it, but she could not linger on remorse; her mother and Iolite would be there, soon, and she had to get a head start on preparations for Day of Deliverance. It might be a shift off for the dwarves, but wifs and maids must prepare.
The hours wore on, and Gretti paced back and forth on the few feet of level stone at the sentry post. Of all the labors he had known, this was among the most unpleasant, walking back and forth to stay alert when he should be out there finding Highlodes. Keeping watch was a duty, but it felt like idleness to him. And what was an idle dwarf?
Gretti
Gretti never wanted to feel that shame again. He had been a gilke, nothing more. He had not understood. Still, that panic had lurked deep in his heart every day since his father’s death. What if he could not finish his task? It wasn’t enough. Not yet. The shadows had deepened with the setting of the moon, making the stars stand out all the clearer. It was still many hours until dawn.
This enough—enough standing and watching when he should be after his true purpose.
Enough.