Unspeakable Secrets The Alchemist Series (A Dark Medieval Progression Fantasy)

Chapter 79 Seamus Gonghammer

They approached the front door of the inn and the two dwarven guards stared hard at them, their grips tightening around the shaft of their spears.

"This inn is fully booked by the Gonghammer caravan. Unless you have business here, I suggest you move along," said one of the guards.

Connor pressed his fist over his heart and bowed. "Kushnak furnakmoora, honored guards," Connor said.

Adelia copied the gesture and the two guards froze for a moment as their eyes widened.

Then, a smile tugged at their lips and they rapped their gauntleted fists over their hearts, returned the bow, and said, "Kushnak nakafur, Overlanders."

Connor smiled easily and the dwarves, though still ramrod straight, relaxed slightly.

"Never heard a human speak the gray tongue before. How much do you know?" one of the dwarves asked.

"I get by," Connor replied in flawless dwarvish.

The guards looked at each other and grinned with that same strange joy any person seems to experience when they meet someone who surprises them by speaking their language.

"I'd like to speak with your caravan leader if I may?" Connor asked.

"Aye, if you've come to do business, the boss'll be happy to see ye I'm sure. I'll take ye through," said one of the guards.

The guard led them into the inn. It was packed with dwarves going about their business with brisk efficiency while a few wolfed down an early lunch and washed it down with tankards of mead.

The guard led them off to one side, into a room with no door where a dwarf dressed similarly to Connor's new merchant attire scribbled something into a thick ledger. The dwarf had medium grey skin, putting him at two hundred or so years, around middle age for a dwarf. Perhaps a little over.

His thick black beard with only a hint of grey was braided neatly yet came down to his chest even so and a large hammer with runes concentrated around the head rested against his desk within arms reach.

"Why are there overlanders in my office?" the dwarf asked in the gray tongue.

"Not just any overlanders, sir. This one speaks the gray tongue," said the guard who'd led them over.

The dwarf in charge looked up at Connor and raised a bushy black eyebrow. "Is that true?" he asked in dwarvish.

Connor bowed with one fist over his heart. "I greet the furnace within you, honored merchant. My name is Jack Winters. This is my wife, Elizabeth Winters. We share a similar trade, and I think we have the potential for a mutually beneficial deal. And yes, I speak the gray tongue. Doesn't everyone?" he asked in flawless dwarvish.

The dwarf's face lit up and he set his quill to one side as he cast a sidelong glance at the guard who'd brought them to him.

"I like these ones," he said, "I, as you likely already know, am Seamus Gonghammer. Proud owner of the famous Gonghammer meadery. And, leader of the recently formed Gonghammer caravan. What brings two fellow merchants such as yourselves to seek me out?"

"We heard your caravan is heading to Magna'dur. And what better place is there for trade than one of the great dwarven cities? I've heard good things about you, and it seems like it'd be worth joining your caravan for the journey," Connor said.

Seamus nodded. "There's an upfront fee and I warn you, it's not cheap. We've negotiated hard to get good treatment at every stop along our route and my guards are far better than the usual fare. You'll be expected to obey orders and contribute to the defense and working of the caravan. That means helping anyone who gets stuck if needed, putting your wagon in the defensive formation when we stop... that sort of thing."