to see the stars again. And bask in the sun. And feel the wind upon her face. A wistful smile crossed her face as she thought of Arumn and Josi at the Cutlass.
Delly shook the nostalgia and the self-pity away quickly as she approached a solitary figure in the corner of the large room. Cottie Cooperson didn't join in the cheers that night, and seemed hardly aware of them at all. She sat upon a chair, rocking slowly back and forth, staring down at the small child in her arms.
Delly knelt beside her and gently put her hand on Cottie's shoulder.
"Ye put her to sleep again, did ye, Cottie?" Delly quietly asked.
"She likes me."
"Who would not?" Delly asked, and she just knelt there for a long time, rubbing Cottie's shoulder, looking down at the peaceful Colson.
The sounds of eager anticipation continued to echo around her, the shouts and the cheers, the grand plans unveiled by man after man declaring that he would begin a new and better life. Their resilience touched Delly, to be sure, as did the sense of community that she felt there. All those refugees from various small towns, thrown together in the tunnels of dwarves, had bonded in common cause and in simple human friendship.
Delly held her smile throughout, but when she considered the source of the cheering, she felt more like crying.
She left the room a short while later, Colson in her arms. To her surprise, she found Wulfgar waiting for her in their room.
"I hear ye're readying to break free of the hall and march to the Surbrin," she greeted.
The bluntness and tone set Wulfgar back in his chair, and Delly felt him watching her closely, every step, as she carried Colson to her small crib. She set the baby down and let her finger trace gently across her face, then stood straight and took a deep breath before turning to Wulfgar and adding, "I hear ye're meaning to go soon."
"The army is already gathering at Garumn's Gorge," the big man confirmed. "The army of Citadel Felbarr is in sight above, approaching the Surbrin from the east."
"And Wulfgar will be there with the dwarves when they charge forth from their halls, will he?"
"It is my place."
"Yer own and Catti-brie's," Delly remarked.
Wulfgar shook his head, apparently missing the dryness of her tone. "She cannot go, and it is difficult for her. Cordio will hear nothing of it, for her wounds have not yet mended."
"Ye seem to know much about it."
"I just came from her bedside," said Wulfgar as he moved toward Colson's crib - and as Delly moved aside, so that he did not see her wince at that admission.
Bedside, or bed? the woman thought, but she quickly shook the preposterous notion from her mind.
"How badly she wishes that she could join in the battle," Wulfgar went on. So engaged was he with Colson then, leaning over the side of the crib and waggling his finger before the child's face so that she had a challenge in grabbing at it, that he did not notice Delly's profound frown. "She's all fight, that one. I think her hatred of the orcs rivals that of a Gutbuster."
He finally looked up at Delly and his smile disappeared the moment he regarded the stone-faced woman, her arms crossed over her chest.
"They're all leaving," she answered his confused expression. "For
Silverymoon and Everlund, or wherever their road might take them."
"Bruenor has promised that the way will be clear," Wulfgar answered.
"Clear for all of us," Delly heard herself saying, and she could hardly believe the words. "I'd dearly love to see Silverymoon. Can ye take me there?"
"We have already discussed this."
"I'm needing to go," Delly said. "It's been too long in the tunnels. Just a foray, a visit, a chance to hear the tavern talk of people like meself."
"We will break through and scatter the orcs," Wulfgar promised. He came up beside her and hugged her close in his muscular arms. "We will have them on the run before winter and put them in their holes before midsummer. Their day is past and Bruenor will reclaim the land for the goodly folk. Then we will go to Silverymoon, and on to Sundabar if you wish!"
He couldn't see Delly's face as he held her so closely.
He wouldn't have understood anything he saw there, anyway, for the woman was just numb. She had no answers for him, had not even any questions to ask.
Resignation smacked hard against impatience, and the woman couldn't find the