In the second year of the King’s reign, there came an unusually wet spring. The snows had been heavy that winter, and the lake had risen nearly to Council Rock. The Dawnwood tribe had already moved to higher ground, and the Water People were preparing to take refuge at the Castle. It had been three weeks since the Realm had seen a day without rain.
Prince Allan had gone to see his friend, King Durwyn. Very few knew the trail to the Under Realm, where the Men of Earth lived. These were the dwarves of the deep places—men of great fortitude and few vices. They would never be found with strong drink, for they were all miners.
Prince Allan had heard the city was beginning to flood, and he went to find King Durwyn to see how the Realm might help.
When the Prince arrived at the digs, the evacuation was already underway.
He found the King guiding his people out and delegating tasks to ensure that no one was left behind. The entrance was becoming unstable, and rocks were beginning to tumble from the hillside. The lanterns in the tunnels were starting to go out. There were still a handful of children who needed a guide.
So the King went back in.
And with him went his most loyal friend, the Prince.
A Castle dweller and a Man of Earth worked side by side to save the last of the children. One by one, new faces emerged from the darkness only to meet a gray sky and more rain. Still, there were voices deeper in the tunnel.
So Allan and Durwyn pressed on.
They pushed past falling stones and sucking mud, deeper into the outer passage where the ground had already begun to sag. At last they reached the low place in the tunnel just as the mountain gave way.
The King shouted for the children to hold fast.
And then the sky fell.
Rock and mud came crashing down in a roar that swallowed the tunnel whole.
Then there was silence.
Up above, the runner had returned with King Ross.
He was directing all who could be moved onto boats for transport to the Castle. The rain still fell, the sky still pressed low—but when the rumble came, the King knew at once what had happened.
He removed his cloak.
He removed his crown.
And by torchlight, he went in.
He found his brother.
But he did not find King Durwyn.
Prince Allan lay pinned beneath a stone too great to move. The light flickered across his face, and already he was fading.
“Ross… my brother,” he said.
“You cannot save me… but the work is not yet done.”
The Prince’s eyes turned, not to the King—but deeper into the dark.
“Remember me…”
His voice trailed off.
And he spoke no more.
King Ross did not stay.
He crawled deeper.
Nearly fifty yards beyond the place where his brother lay, he found the last three children—huddled in darkness, silent with fear.
One by one, he led them out.
Each time they passed the body of the Prince, the King turned his back to him—shielding the children from what had been lost.
Not from shame.
But from sorrow too heavy for them to carry.
When the last boy emerged, the King placed him into his parents’ arms.
He did not speak.
He did not look back.
The cost was high that day.
A brother was lost.
But the children were saved.
There was one there that day who saw it all.
Bramble—a red-haired dwarf, scarcely four feet in height.
He had remained when others fled.
It was Bramble who retrieved the King’s cloak and crown and returned them to him.
It was Bramble who placed a handkerchief in the King’s hand.
“My King,” he said quietly,
“I saw what you did. You held fast… when others ran.”
Ross did not take the title.
“Friend,” he answered,
“I am not your King.”
“I have no other,” Bramble said,
“for my King died with your brother.”
He steadied himself.
“The last child you brought out… was my nephew.”
“For that,” Bramble said,
“I am forever in your debt.”
The King studied him for a moment.
“What is your name, friend?”
“Bramble,” the dwarf replied.
Ross gave a single nod.
“Then this day you have made a friend of me,” he said.
“Take your family. Get them to the boats. When we reach Shirzan… I will speak with you again.”
And so it was, in the rain and in the ruin of the mountain kingdom, that King Ross and Bramble first met.
Bramble did not follow Ross because of a crown.
He chose to follow a leader worth following.