[Arry]

‘Have to agree with you on cram, Bror.’ Skald raised his mug to his brother and grinned. ‘Just as soon eat my boot soles than try to chew a piece of it, much less swallow it.’ He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. ‘I’m sure our dear mother most likely makes the finest, most serviceable cram beneath the Misty Mountains, but I’ll be a rock lizard’s uncle if even her stuff doesn’t suck the spit right out of your mouth at first bite.’ He took a long swig of his ale. ‘Let’s go heavy on the dried meats and fruits and bring just a small amount of the Dwarven bread, eh Riv?’

‘And don’t let this go to your head, little brother, but I’m going to weigh in with you on not spreading the word about Sauron being behind all this trouble. I got the idea from Father that while he felt alright sharing this bit of news with us, he didn’t want it going any further. I think perhaps the King means to take counsel with all us Dwarves is what he was getting at – allay any fears and put a stop to any panic at the news.’ Skald shrugged his shoulders. ‘Just thinking off the top of my head, really,’ he said. ‘Nothing firm on that.’

‘About tomorrow . . . I’ll leave my gear piled here in the kitchen, Riv, for you and Uncle to load up on the cart. And Bror, there are several stonemasons’ halls I’d like to call in at as we travel along. There are a number of Dwarves round my age who were apprenticed at the same time as I. I’m sure they’d be able to lend us a hand with fetching the Elves.’

He drank down the last of his ale and pushed the cup away from him, shaking his head ‘no’ when Riv held up the ale-skin. ‘I think I’ll say good-night. Get my gear in order for tomorrow.’

Skald stood up from the table and grinned at Bror. ‘Think you can make it out of bed for an early start?’ he asked.