King of the Woodlands

Chapter 5

I H A V E N ' T A N Y I D E A H O W
M A N Y D A Y S H A V E P A S S E D

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The Eoghan Mountains were the most terrifying things Lilibeth had ever seen. They were still capped with snow from the winter, piercing the sky like needles. To Lilibeth, they looked like watchful giants.

In those Mountains lived Murback Flintbow, the Dwarf Lord, and his brethren. The dwarves had crafted the sickle of Cerridwen, the Moon Goddess, and it was said that the two founding fathers—Nyordith and Saudith, the dwarves of North and South, held the sky aloft with their fingers.

But of course, dear reader, not all dwarves are skilled miners or blacksmiths. Some dwarves prefer to tend to their gardens rather than get their hands dirty, you see.

"Why are you afraid of tiny men?" Aheiran said.

"Because they're not just tiny men," Lilibeth said. "Now shut it before I get Aithne to turn you into a donkey."

That shut him right up.

She could hear the dwarves bellowing their work chanteys, cleaving rock salt from the mountain-bellies with their long iron pickaxes. Dwarves were benevolent people, although they had a bitter rivalry with the leprechauns after the Leprechaun King, the clurichaun, had left fool's gold at a Dwarf Lord's doorstep.

Lilibeth dismounted Aheiran, smoothing her skirts and raising her chin. "Quickly, now. Do I look natural?"

"I can see your bloomers," the horse said rudely.

A beet-colored flush suffused Lilibeth's face. Indeed, a breeze had passed and he could see right up her skirts. She smoothed them down again with as much dignity she could muster.

They had no other choice than to pass through the Eoghan Mountains. There was no other way to sneak past without the dwarves knowing - their sentinels were stationed everywhere.

Lilibeth squared her shoulders and stared at the cavern of inky blackness before her.

She could've sworn something stared back.

A dwarf sentinel stepped out of the darkness. He was a round fellow barely coming up to Lilibeth's chin, with a gold-olive beard braided into three sections and leather armor polished to perfection.

"What's yer business here?" he asked in a voice rough as the rock salt he mined.

Although Lilibeth stood several inches taller than the dwarf, she'd never felt so intimidated in her life. But she kept her head high. If she were to be queen someday, she'd have to be imposing and regal.

"I am Lilibeth Faren of Brightleaf Village, and I would like to pass through."

The dwarf seemed to brighten a bit. "Well then in that case, we must show ye to our Lord! He loves visitors. Hasn't had any in years, poor bloke."

"Please," Lilibeth said. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. "We must get going—"

"Ye can wait a couple years, lass!"

Lilibeth stiffened. A couple years?

The dwarf's hands hung like heavy hams at his side. If she refused his offer, he could easily knock out half her teeth.

So she put on her most fake, saccharine smile. "Of course," she said tightly. "See to my horse, won't you, good sir?"

He bowed so low his mushroom nose nearly touched the ground. "Glarfour Barrelbeard, at your service," he said. "Your eyes are like stars, milady."