The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  Snow kicked up everywhere as the sled glided down the steep hill. At another time, Skyler would have thought the sledding fun, but not today. He felt every rocky bump with his two riders plopping up and down. Every bounce knocked the wind from him, but despite the danger recently left behind, the riders seemed to be enjoying themselves quite thoroughly.

  One of them turned and leaned over into Skyler’s face. It was the one who spoke coarsely to him earlier, “Sorry sir, did you say something?” Skyler was amazed at his manners, especially is such a time as this.

  “No,” was all Skyler could get out, another breath jutting out of him on a hard bump. He hoped his friends were all safe at the bottom.

  “Well then, just be a good chap and enjoy the ride.” The little man returned to his perch on Skyler’s hips and replaced his annoying little foot back on Skyler’s face. He steered the sled masterfully down the hill by shifting his weight back and forth.

  Skyler noticed the open landscape of the mountain above replaced by that of cedar trees. His riders swayed back and forth, maneuvering expertly through the forest. Farther down the slope, the forest was becoming thicker. Very large oak trees replaced the cedar trees in the lower forest. The riders let their feet dangle over the sides in the deep snow, slowing the sled. Skyler did not appreciate the flying flutter of snow that piled on his face, but again there was no room for protest. He was also quite eager to be relieved of his riders, who grew heavier as the ride went on.

  Skyler was happy to hear the familiar sound of his friend’s voices and know they were safe. The others helped stop the sled and pulled Skyler to his feet, uncovering his eyes and mouth. The little men removed the restraints from their legs, but their hands remained bound. His friends seemed no worse for the trial.

  Skyler looked to the little men standing before him, more than twice his own number, saying, “I suppose we should thank you for saving us up there.” Then he turned to his friends, reprimanding them, “Since we didn’t thoroughly check the cave for slumbering beasts that could rip our faces off!”

  The first little man to help Skyler stood forth, “Then we suppose to accept your thanks, with neither a higher nor lower degree of your supposing. You are welcome, I suppose.” He was trying to sound official but was also confused by Skyler’s words.

  The dwarves and little men stood there for a bit in awkward silence, as the dwarves looked to the little men that rode them down the hill. Each side was tilting their heads up and down in acknowledgement toward each other, several times on end. Neither side really knew when to stop.

  The first little man pulled at his suspenders with both hands, wobbling back and forth in an official gesture and said, “Well, I suppose we are done with that. I do also suppose that I am not sure what exactly we are supposed to do next.” He said it with a bit of exaggeration, thinking his play on words quite funny. The other little men shared his line of thinking and they chuckled at his witty banter.

  Shalkar broke the ambling discussion. “If you do not mind, I would like to have a fire to warm myself. I would then like a bite to eat as we exchange names.”

  “Agreed, agreed,” the little man said. He turned toward the large oak tree directly behind him. The little men began taking nervous looks around to make sure no others were close, spying on them from hidden places. The one hurriedly snuck up to the large tree and pushed on a gnarled knot at the base. Upon doing so, a door, hidden to them up to that point, fell inward. The dwarves were impressed, knowing a thing or two about working with stone and wood. This was no doubt quite a feat. The little men entered with the door quickly closing behind them without so much as a whisper or secret password. Meril tried to notice the mechanism for the opening and closing as they entered, but time, and Skyler pushing him forward, did not allow for it.

  On the inside, a steep staircase wound up to the left and an equally steep stair case wound down to the right. They followed the little men as they trounced down the steps below. They seemed to lose all concern for being quiet, for as they trampled down the stairs they were intent on stamping their feet as hard as possible on each step. Little did the dwarves know that not the slightest sound of their loud stepping carried outside the tree.

  The lead little man carried a candle whose tired light reluctantly reached the walls. Its weary beams could only go so far. The dull light was still enough to reveal the amazing wood working skills of the elves. The men worked the steps, walls, and hand rails with perfection. The surfaces could not have been smoother or waxed to a greater shine. Marvelous tapestries also hung from the walls, with pictures Skyler assumed to be important little men of the past. No one in Lemuria besides the Dwarves held a deeper appreciation for such things. The little men were every bit equal to their skill, only in a different trade.

  Toward the bottom of the staircase, a far more adventurous light announced itself and rushed up the stairs to meet them. A large fireplace in the corner was the source, as there were the many candles lit around the large happy room that sat deep below the ground. The ceiling, a maze of roots from the massive tree above, weaved here and there in the roots normal wandering ways. Skyler thought it a mini furnace room, except the furnace room ceiling was the branches of the tree almost pushing it up from the floor, whereas this room was the roots of the tree pulling the ceiling up from the top. The similarities between the two fascinated Skyler.

  In the center of the room, there was a large table where several women were busy preparing a meal. Large black pots were suspended over the fireplace, where what Skyler hoped was a nice stew was cooking.

  There was finally ample light and time to study the little people. Their clothes, trousers for the men and floor length dresses for the ladies, were only shades of green. All wore the same pointy hats, almost sack-like, that fell to the side at the top. At the point, a small ball of yarn lazily dangled, finding its resting place between their cheek and ear. The sack sat on poufy curly hair, each color quite different from one to the next, gigantic ears that seemed fit for someone twice their size, and finally, two hedge-like eyebrows jutted across the bottom of their forehead as though it was one. Their large ears ended in a sharp point at the top.

  The contours of the chubby faces were many, wrapping around warm kind eyes, out to the pronounced cheeks that were rosy in color. The skin around the cheek was shiny also, probably due to the constantly cold weather. The other item of note were the black leather boots that everyone wore, which curled at the end upward and came to a point as the curl continued to curve back toward the foot.

  All wore large smiles that defied the menacing climate above and the even larger threat of the enemy that surrounded them every day. Down here, the little men lived happy lives, mostly unknown to the outside world.

  The first little man hugged one of the women and then turned to the dwarves, “Gentlemen, what do you think of our home? I think it’s tree-mendous.” He was quite proud of his pun.

  Shalkar laughed out loud. The note of the pun struck him hard. “Tree. Mendous. Don’t you get it?” Shalkar’s laugh died quickly as he saw Skyler’s serious face.

  “Yes, we get it, quite amazing,” Skyler allowed, not wanting to be completely rude. “Sir, your home is very impressive. I can easily and sincerely admit that.” The others also nodded their agreement, knowing the time and patience to detail that the home would have taken.

  The woman elbowed the self-considered eloquent little man in the side. He fumbled quickly, “Might I introduce to you my lady. She is the finest woman in all the land of the elves, at least in my estimation. Her beauty runs deeper than the roots of the great oak and its breadth is wider than its branches. Of course, I am her husband, so I am a little biased.”

  Skyler liked the little fellow and he was obviously fond of the use of words. Despite his strange sense of humor, he was quite skilled.

  “You haven’t told them my name,” the woman whispered to her husband, as she pinched him on the side.

  He danced away from the promptin
g, “Yes, of course. Her name is Philomena. Mine is Argus. Welcome to the land of the Elves!” Argus raised his arms to dwarves, indicating his welcome to the newly arrived. The dwarves wore a perplexed look on their faces, which the elves easily sensed.

  “Elves?” Shalkar was perplexed. “I thought you would be…. bigger?”

  “And I would have thought a dwarf would know, better than most, what it is like to be underestimated due to your height?” an irritated elf stepped forward, staring up at Shalkar. Skyler stepped between them and raised his hand to calm his friends down.

  “My apologies for my friends,” he started, shooting each of his comrades a menacing look to indicate their silence would be needed going forth, lest they be extricated from the premises. “Sometimes words fly from my friend’s mouths faster than they can register. It is just that, from what we have been told at least, elves tended to be, well, taller.” Skyler stumbled to find the correct words for the moment. In the end, he only did slightly better than his squelched friend did.

  “It happens, it happens. No worries here my friend! I suspect, if history is any indication,” Argus said, using Skyler’s look now to his friends, “That before we are through I may be apologizing for something we have said.”

  “Are you their King?” Taylor asked. He did not forget Skyler’s look, just merely assumed he didn’t mean it for him. Skyler was not amused.

  Argus smiled, looking to the other elves, who did not approve of the term. It appeared from the look on Argus’s face he quite fancied it. “King? Well, King?” He was quite uneasy but stammered on, smiling as if to barely brush away the term, “Well, we have not used that term before. King, such a stately term. I suppose were we someday to sort of elevate the position, even just a tinge more, then King would be more appropriate. I suppose that if it might be easier for you to understand, perhaps King would be a word you could call me?” at the last sentence, Argus looked around for the other elves to give credence to his supposition. Credence was not ordained.

  “Now don’t you get supposin’ too much!” Philomena scolded her day dreaming husband with yet another pinch to the arm that made him jump. “Argus is the leader of the Elders, which is a small group of our people who make decisions for the village. Nothing more, nothing less.” She could not have been more embarrassed about or for her husband. Argus carried no such embarrassment.

  Shalkar blurted his giggle, unable to contain it any longer. “Small group of people! You get it right?” No one understood his point and he was ignored.

  “Since we are friends, at least I hope to be and soon, may I inquire as to what you desire to be called? To be even more specific, what are your names?” Argus was an elf of many words, which is why they were so quick to let him speak. The other elves watched Argus closely and upon his wordy completion looked in earnest at the dwarves to pick up the answers.

  “I am Skyler, and this is Shalkar and Balthar, who are brothers. This is Taylor and Meril, also brothers.”

  “Pleased to meet you. Welcome again to our country, frozen now but not always was it so. As for us elves, what did you expect? Perhaps some giant race of elegant creatures who ruled the world with magic and vast armies? Ha! Would that not be nice! No, not for us, we are simple folk who live as we always have. The forest Iberia is our home, in the vast far north of Lemuria, inside the stately land of Calonia. Well, of course you know where you are, at least in general anyway.”

  Argus laughed with the other elves. Very affable they were but the mood quickly changed as he spun on Skyler, a new thought interrupted his mind, “Why are you here?” The other elves shifted their intent with him, as they all seemed to lean toward Skyler. Their massive eye-bows furrowed, dripping with intensity.

  The mood quickly dimmed on both sides and tension flooded the room. The light even seemed to follow the lead, as the room appeared to grow darker. Argus stepped forward again to Skyler, menacing enough to make Skyler reach for his sword.

  “You are still a friend in our land but finger your weapon again and things will not be as kind as they are right now. I will ask you again, visitor in the land of ours, why are you here?”

  Skyler drew a breath, released the hold of his weapon and replied, “As much as I would like, I cannot say. I do not wish to harm our young relationship, but I am under orders from the King to keep our mission a secret.”

  “Well, well, well. Then let me tell you what I know, young dwarf. I know you have been here before, several times at least. Always you get to the same relative area and end up turning back. I am not sure why you continued this time, but you probably would have turned back if not for us at the cave. We have watched you every trip and monitored your progress. So, what is it you are looking for?”

  Skyler rethought his plan and decided to be forthright with their mission. “It is not a thing but a person. We look for the wife of the King of Tunder Bin.”

  “Allow me to introduce myself, as my wordsmith father only seems to want to introduce himself,” the elf who stepped at Skyler earlier said. Argus felt bad for again forgetting introductions, his wife shooting him a disappointed look.

  The elf continued, “I am Rufus and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” Rufus took off his hat and offered a deep bow. He then replaced his hat and continued, “A quick observation please, is this not a strange place to look for a wife of the King? Could he not search closer to his land and find a suitable companion there? You said he was the King. Am I correct? Is he ugly?” Again, the elves leaned in, as curious about the ugly King of the south as they were about dwarves standing before them.

  “Rufus, my son, you of a simple mind,” Argus nervously laughed, rolling his eyes to Skyler and the other dwarves. He realized it was his turn to apologize, which he predicted would be soon to come. “Skyler did not mean to say he was looking for a female to be his bride. He meant to say someone took his wife and that they are here looking for her. Is that not correct Mr. Skyler?” Argus looked to Skyler for confirmation, hoping he adequately explained the discussion and at the same time apologized for his dimwitted companion. Sort of.

  Skyler nodded, fully realizing that communicating with the elves would be a hard task. “Yes, the King’s wife is taken, and we are looking for her. Do you know of where she might be, have you seen or heard of other dwarves in the land of Calonia?”

  The elves looked to each other in dismay and whispered back and forth, “Have you seen her?” which was quickly followed by a, “Oh no, I have certainly not!”

  Finally, Argus looked to Skyler again, “We have not seen her. Of course, we don’t know what she looks like. We have taken the liberty to assume she is a dwarf. So, to answer your question again, no we have not her as we have seen no dwarves,” he paused for a moment and then added a quick, “Lately.” Once more, he looked to confirmation from his group, which they gave. “As we have not seen her, we do not believe she is here.” He was very proud of his answer. Something in the look gave Skyler reason to question.

  “Lately you say. So, you have seen dwarves before?” Skyler prodded.

  “Well, yes…” Argus began sheepishly. “It has been many, many, years. There was once a dwarf, a good friend of mine. His name was…” Argus closed his eyes to think back, searching deeply for the name, “Gulac. Gulac was his name, still is I presume.”

  Skyler did not enjoy the banter and grew irritated. He was not surprised Gulac had been there, knowing his tale. “We did not believe the Queen was here, but as this is your country, we thought you could maybe tell us where she could be. We believe a sorcerer named Herrog is holding her. Do you know of him?” Skyler learned to ask questions that are more direct.

  The elves looked to each other again, frightened at the mention of the name. This time they were well aware of the answer. Argus answered grimly and in a quiet voice so as not to be heard, “The wizard Herrog is known far and wide. His dwelling is still a ways from here but this entire land is under his control and power. He has left us alone. If we play our h
and right, we hope he will continue to do so. I think he has no concern for us due to our lack of size and the small power of our force. We know well of him and leave him be we do! I would suggest you do the same. What I cannot do, however, is allow you to draw attention to us. We would rather him leave us alone.”

  Skyler saw Herrog before and knew full well why the elves held such a strong fear of him. “I can appreciate that, but we must go to the place and find what we can of the Lady Milan. We need to know whether she yet lives. Our King has ordered us to do so and we will do our best to carry out our mission. Will you guide us there?” Skyler hoped for help but knew it was a lot to ask of the little elves.

  Argus looked again to his friends, “That is not a decision I can make alone. This very evening, I will speak with the elders and let you know. For now, eat with us and tell us tales of your land. But I caution you,” Argus made sure to make eye contact with every dwarf before him, “Do not hold high hope of our aid. Above all, do not do anything silly that will risk our hidden places in the trees. Doing so would be treacherous to your well-being.”

  The dwarves understood his words and intentions and sat down to eat. The mission was getting stranger every minute.

  Chapter 2: The Heirloom

  The waning light of the evening sun revealed a sky covered by a tapestry of pink and orange waves that drifted endlessly against the western rim of the world. The view mesmerized Tegan as he looked out from the uppermost chamber of Tunder Bin. From his perch, the brisk cool wind fought to keep him sharp against fatigue’s unrelenting grip. His well-earned exhaustion from another day’s grueling work battled hard to drag him to the ground. Tegan’s stout legs barely had enough strength remaining to overcome their worthy foe.