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"You asked to be informed when the first of the work was done, MiLor..."
Magnus winced and trailed off into silence, eyes focused on a point just above the right shoulder of the dwarf seated in front of him.
"It's alright, Magnus, no need to get your beard in a tangle, my lad," Bellus sighed, pushing aside the worn and dog-eared map he been staring at for last few candlemarks. "Bellus, Bell...even the name won't matter much if you look like you're about to present me your axe for parade inspection every time you come in here."
"Here" was a large, well used field tent, bare of all but a cot and a large table piled with and groaning under the weight of books, scrolls, maps, even the odd sample of ore and rock. Folding camp chairs were scattered around the table, one of which Bellus now occupied as he pushed himself erect and spoke again to the embarrassed young dwarf standing rigid in front of him.
" Tell me," Bellus ordered. Magnus glanced briefly to the open flaps of the tent, checking the night automatically for the darker shadows of the Iron Guard in silent watch over the new camp.
"The pallisades are up, trenches dug and spiked, caltrops spread on the only approach of any use to cavalry, the slingers and crossbowman of Steel Rain report that the engineers have cleared fields of fire, and they have fixed the known distance ranges as well set the coverage zones." "We're as ready as possible after only a few days here...Bellus," Magnus managed to say with only the slightest hesitation.
"Excellent. Thank the boys for me, and maybe let a few casks of ale find their way to the work gangs." "After all, what kind o' dwarf would me unmentionable self be if I let a chance to swill beer pass me by?" laughed Bellus.
Magnus tried not to react to the change in voice and manner he just witnessed. With a brief, aborted gesture that might have been a salute, he turned in soft rustle of chain and passed in to the dark beyond the tent.
Bellus sat back in his chair with a frown. The morning wasn't that far off, and if the map was right, the old standing stones were close. "Let's hope so," he thought, " for all our sakes...."
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"War is the father of all things..."
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