Eastward Dragons Read Free

of weight to volume to profitability. The likelihood of a particular consumable that is of value throughout the commonwealth or in the western empires being more common across the high mountains that separate us from the forgotten east.”
    “I was actually considering the identity of our expedition leader,” Havil said, not wishing to engage his counterpart in an actuarial discussion. “I suppose that Lord Biho will claim that honor for himself.”
    Jarom nervously spun his snuffbox on the arm of the wide upholstered chair, upon which he crouched like a colorful frog. His head bobbed back and forth as he contemplated the question, doubtless running a long string of calculations through a mind that was nearly as prodigious as his girth. Just as Havil was beginning to enjoy the silence Jarom snorted again, cleared his throat, and said, “I am doubtful, Master A’Mar. The potential risks of the journey are nearly too numerous to calculate, as I had said when considering the potential profit and loss ratios of my own cargo. Myself, I would not even think to engage in such a dangerous venture were the finances not backed by the crown.”
    “And what of the personal risk? You do not have the reputation of a dwarf who travels far from his accounting house, yet if my sources tell the truth you have expended no small measure of influence and gold to see yourself named to this expedition.”
    “You need not be coy with me, Master A’Mar. I am old, fat, and more known for my acuity with numbers than my wit at the dinner table.”
    Havil inclined his head, agreeing with his counterpart’s statement. “Why are you going on this expedition? Surely there are others in your clan who would be better suited to the strenuous expedition.”  
    Jarom pursed lips and blew out a long stream of breath. His eyes drifted to the ornately woven patterns on the curtains, which were drawn back to reveal the rooftops of the city. Some trick of the brightflower pollen’s influence upon his brain, perhaps the same intensity that brought all of the numbers into focus in his mind when he took the snuff, caused the intertwining patterns of white and yellow threads to dance and shimmer in the late morning light, like light playing off the crystal spire of the distant temple. He chuckled and looked back to Havil A’Mar, who was watching him with narrowed eyes above his fastidiously trimmed beard and hollow cheeks.  
    “I am old and not in the best of health. The thought has come to me that perhaps the time has come in my life when I ought pay homage to my ancestry and travel the wild roads myself.”
    Havil nodded, saying nothing. He had not expected such sentimentality from the famously literal Guild Barron.  
    Just then the tall, beechwood doors to the inner office split open to emit Ranta, personal servant to Lord Biho Erdenech, master of the Commonwealth Guild Council. The wild curls of her red hair burst from beneath the shawl of her elegantly plain yellow dress, framing her pale features in a halo of fire.
    “Lord Erdenech will see you now, guild masters.”
    Havil rose slowly and nodded to the servant woman as Jarom extracted his squat body from the low chair that was provided for the comfort of the dwarves on the council. “You are as radiant as ever, Di-Ranta.”
    “Spare me your flattery, A’Mar,” she replied, turning her back on him and striding into the sunlit office of her master.
    Jarom’s soft laughter rumbled from deep within his chest as he lumbered up to stand beside Havil. “You will never win her heart, Havil. Just as well to save your efforts for the women of the court.”
    “Or I could pay for the services of the Companion Guild, as you do,” Havil shot back.  
    “When you are as old, fat, and short as I am you may find yourself less derisive of their services,” Jarom replied, passing Havil and entering the office first. His sagging face split into a wide smile and he said, “Lord Erdenech! Thank you for