Seersha had brought back a Dwarf Chieftain. His name was Crace Coram, and he was something of a legend. He was the son and grandson of former Chieftains of their people, the Quare Rek, and he had inherited wars with Gnome tribes that went back several centuries. His father was killed in battle by members of one of those tribes, the Zek’ke, when Crace was just twenty, and he had been named leader by his people immediately. Only days later the Zek’ke had attacked again, knowing his father was dead and expecting to find the Quare Rek in disarray. At first, they were, fleeing in all directions. But Crace Coram rallied them in midflight, sought out the Gnome leader responsible for the death of his father, and single-handedly killed him and three others who were trying to protect him. Then, with fewer than thirty men, he drove the Zek’ke from his village and pursued them for three days through the mountains, the Dwarves under his command killing the fleeing Gnomes one by one.

When he finally caught up to the survivors, the Gnomes threw down their arms and begged for their lives. Crace Coram granted their wish, extracting a promise that none of them or any of their families or friends or members of their community would ever participate in another attack on the Quare Rek. The Gnomes not only agreed, they kept their word.

But the Dwarf legend was no longer Chieftain of his people. He had passed on that responsibility to his oldest son. Seersha had come from a neighboring village and had known Crace Coram all her life. When she had found him and explained her purpose, he had agreed at once to come back with her. His respect for Seersha and for the Druids was enormous, and if he could be of help to them he was more than willing to do so.

Besides, he had added with a smile, he had nothing better to do with his time.

Of the third choice, the strange young woman brought along by Pleysia, the Ard Rhys knew nothing at all beyond her name.

Oriantha.

She was sitting now at the bow of the vessel, deep in conversation with her friend and mentor. Pleysia was gesturing as she talked to the young woman, insistent and determined. Whatever the subject matter of their discussion, Pleysia was passionate about it. At times, it seemed to the Ard Rhys, almost angry.

“I think I need to learn something more about Pleysia’s choice,” she said to Garroneck.

She left him at the stern of the vessel, walked past the pilot box, went down the three steps to the mid-deck, and continued forward. Pleysia and Oriantha sensed her coming and ceased their conversation immediately, turning to watch her approach.

She knelt down next to them so that she was on eye level and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you settled in?” she asked Oriantha.