Chapter Six: In Which Torroran Meets An Old Friend

The city of Mountain Pass, several days travel north of Home, was built around a tunnel carved through the mountains. The tunnel cut through an isthmus connecting the ancestral mountains of the dwarves to the south and the lower mountains which gave way to the rolling hills of the human lands. On the east side of the isthmus was the Sartron Ocean. On the west side was a long arm of the Channel Sea which extended south and then east, embracing the human kingdom. Mountain Pass allowed merchant ships to make use of this extension of the Channel Sea and cut days off their journeys, much to the profit of the city.
The Sartron Ocean was named for the large island on its other side from the mainland. Karen Fordrunner, a Sartroni, was away from the green fields of her homeland for the first time in her life. She was short, for a Sartroni, but still towered over the majority of the residents, the dwarf majority.  Her height, strong jaw, and prominent chin distinguished her from the human minority, as did her clothes, which were leather, well cured and expertly worked. Her clothes hung reasonably about her, hinting at, but not constricting, her excellent figure. She occasionally passed a reptilian Ophidian or bat-winged Pteradon and tried (unsuccessfully) not to stare.
She had been walking along the canal for hours, wondering how in the world anyone, any city or race, would have the patience to dig this much. Occasionally a ship would pass by. Fascinated by a ship sailing underground, she would watch it until it passed out of sight. She was nearing the locks on the west side and hoped that a ship would be passing through. The locks, she had heard, connected the sea with the higher lake underneath the mountain which the dwarves had used to make part of the canal. They also served as a perfect barrier. Any ship that passed through Mountain Pass went through inspection and paid the city a share.

“Toro!” she shouted, and ran towards two men looking over the side of the lock, waiting impatiently.
Torroran whirled in surprise. His foot slipped on a wet spot on the stone. Hiegler put out a hand and steadied him. “Kar…umph,” Torroran said as Karen lifted him in a hug and swung him around.
“What are you doing here?” Torroran asked, when he was finally put down.
“I’m fine.” She answered, “Daddy is well. I’m sure he would have sent you his warmest regards if he’d known I was going to run into you.”
Hiegler chuckled.
“Karen, this is Dom Hiegler.” Torroran said, “Hiegler, Karen Fordrunner.”
“A pleasure, madam.” Hiegler nodded his head in a sketch of a bow, and looked back to the west. “Here she comes, Torroran.”
“Who?” asked Karen, her voice carrying slightly less bubblyness.
“Ah,” said Torroran, “more introductions.” He looked toward the west. The Whitecap was rounding a gentle bend in the tunnel, still distant, beginning to run up signal flags to the guards at the lock. “My ship, the Whitecap.”
Karen smiled, clapped her hands together, and bounced a little. “That’s wonderful, congratulations, Tor. But why aren’t you onboard? Not that I am complaining, since this way I got to see you.”
“It left Margate without me… long story.”
“And here comes the Wetherall,” said Hiegler, “by the way, Torroran, do you think we will have enough fighting men to break the siege when get to Stone Harbor? You had all mine killed, I seem to recall.”
“Yes, the ones who didn’t jump overboard,” Torroran smirked, “but we’ve got my crew, and they bested yours, so if yours would have done I would think that mine should do better.”
“Yes, we’ve got your crew,” Hiegler agreed, “the ones that weren’t killed by mine and left back in Margate. You are under strength.”
Torroran looked thoughtful.  “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said.
“Ooh, you're going to a battle?” said Karen, looking delighted, “Can I come?”
“Ruadan, Brigid, and Bres!” Torroran swore. “Look Karen, no… I mean this isn’t like a normal battle where everyone gets killed until they get tired and go home. There are these Din, monsters, they are starving and torturing those dwarves, they can’t get out, and… I’m really not helping my case here, am I?” Karen’s face had become serious, except for a grim smile. Her hand reached up to her right shoulder where the hilt of her great sword would be if she had been armed. She turned the gesture into rubbing her neck and flexing her back and arms.
“It’s important, then.” She said. “It’s settled, I’m going.”
“But your father,” Torroran started.
“We would waste too much time if we went to pick him up.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Torroran muttered.
The Whitecap and Wetherall had entered the lock, the one remaining escort waited its turn. The water had started to rise, and planks to board inspection teams were being made ready.
“I left my sword and fighting leathers back in my room,” Karen said, brightening again. She grabbed Torroran’s hand. “Come on,” she said, “We’ll meet your ship at the east locks.” She ran towards the city proper. Torroran, perforce, ran with her.
“Have fun!” Called Hiegler after them.

Torroran sat on the edge of the bed, dressing, exhausted. At least she can hurry, he thought, the Whitecap is probably waiting in line for the eastern locks by now. He watched as Karen, now in her thickly padded fighting leathers, threw the rest of her clothes and gear into bags. She had packed for a sightseeing trip and obviously didn’t want to leave anything behind. Damn. She’s probably going to want to share my cabin. I’m going to get no rest on this trip… Well, I’ll just have to put my foot down.
A loud thump rattled the furniture as Karen stepped into one of her massive boots, pulling it up over her calf and then pulling the straps tight.
Torroran was moody, “What would your father think?”
“About the battle?” Karen asked.
“No,” Torroran said, “not about the battle.”
Karen fastened her other boot, straightened. “Daddy thinks you’re wonderful, and he’s gaga about me. I don’t see the problem. Besides, its not like he needs to know.”
“Did he ever find out about last time?” Torroran had finished dressing, but still sat on the edge of the bed.
“Is that why you didn’t come back?” Karen asked.
“A bit, yeah.”
Karen sat beside him. The bed was specially made for Sartroni visitors and only creaked a little under her weight. She looked down at Torroran. “You’ve spend some time with us, you learned to fight from my father, don’t think that makes you an expert on our way of life.” Torroran looked at her, studied her face. She went on, “Tor, trust me when I tell you that everything is all right.”
“All right,” he said as he stood up, “but it won’t be alright if we don’t catch the Whitecap soon. You have everything you need?”
Karen smiled. She threw her bags over her shoulders, the hilt of her great sword protruded over her shoulder, higher than her head, and the end of the scabbard was mere inches from the floor. She whistled as they walked toward the eastern locks.