by Sam Ferguson
Unfortunately, at the same moment, Jonathan’s left index finger triggered the latch on the muzzle, and the animal shook the restraints off of its snout.
It cocked its head up to the side and eyed Jonathan with a bright red eye as its tongue flicked out and the snout opened to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth.
“We had a deal,” Jonathan said as he slowly stepped over the falling tongue and tried to back away.
The cavedog turned its whole body and continued staring at Jonathan while flicking its tongue out and tasting the air.
“No! No, no!” Jonathan said as he stepped back.
The cavedog rushed forward under the falling tongue and then lunged up. Jonathan couldn’t remember the last time something had hit him so hard. He nearly lost his breath and the two crashed to the ground. The cavedog then nuzzled Jonathan’s cheek with its snout, though it took Jonathan a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t trying to chew his face off. The entire animal was longer than he was tall. With its snout up by Jonathan’s face, the tail extended out another three feet beyond Jonathan’s feet. Its massive, strong legs were squarely planted on Jonathan. Two on his chest, and two on his abdomen.
Jonathan’s eyes shot open wide as he realized this. He craned his neck around to look at the animal’s feet, fully expecting to find claws digging into him. As he looked down, he cried out in fear when he saw only the toes of the lizard. The claws were deep enough in him that they had disappeared!
Jonathan, his strength augmented by a surge of adrenaline, threw the animal off of him and then grabbed at his chest and stomach, but he found no holes.
He jumped up to his feet and looked down at his body. No holes, and no blood. Confused, he looked back to the cavedog. The animal cocked its head at Jonathan after righting itself, for it had fallen on its back when thrown, and then the claws emerged from its feet. It raked the ground a few times and then went back to nuzzle its fallen master.
“Retractable claws,” Jonathan said with relief as he sank to his knees. “Thank the gods!”
“You all right?” Ziegler asked as he and Jason came rushing up.
“I’m all right,” Jonathan said.
“Looks like you made a friend,” Ziegler said as he pointed out at the cavedog that was still trying to rouse its master.
“I don’t think Pa or Memaw would let us keep him though,” Jason said.
Jonathan grunted and flopped onto his back. “You never mentioned they had retractable claws,” he said to Ziegler.
Ziegler shrugged. “I didn’t know,” he said. “To be honest, I didn’t even think they could jump, shows you what I know about them.”
“But you said they could jump higher than a man is tall,” Jonathan said.
Ziegler smiled wide and Jason had to turn away to hide his laugh. “A bit of fun at your expense, I’m afraid,” he said as he offered a hand to help Jonathan up.
Jonathan swatted the hand away. “I hate you.”
Jason started laughing louder now and walked away.
Ziegler reached down despite Jonathan’s protest and helped the young man up to his feet.
“Let’s help them get sorted and then get back on our way,” Ziegler said.
CHAPTER 7
Jonathan had seen people buried before. He had even helped dig graves. Yet none of those were like how the dwarves worked. The stout people insisted on digging the graves and handling the bodies themselves. Ziegler and the others were relegated to picking up the debris and disposing of the dead attackers. Jonathan didn’t take it personally though, he respected the dwarves’ decision and traditions. After he, Ziegler, and his brother dug a large pit and covered the bodies of those who had ambushed them, they were fortunate enough to be allowed to watch the proceedings of the dwarven burials.
Each of the graves had been dug into the cliff face, directly into the rock, as was proper for a dwarf. The tombs went several yards into the stone and then branched out, allowing for private resting places for each of the dwarves who had perished in the battle.
To Jonathan’s surprise, the cavedogs that had been slain were buried in the tombs as well. Those who had dead masters were placed at their master’s feet inside the stone tombs, those whose masters still lived were given their own burial place, albeit a bit smaller than a dwarf’s.
The dwarves then lit several candles and placed them at the entrance to the tomb. One of them, a thick dwarf with oiled red hair that was pulled back into a pony tail, stood before the others and began to sing in a low voice. The words were Peish, the language of the dwarves, but Jonathan could guess easily enough what the message of the song was. It seemed no matter who died, or where, those who lived honored the dead and sped them along their way to the afterlife with the blessings of whatever gods they worshipped. Watching the proceedings, Jonathan’s mind wandered back to Sami, Rourke, Ruben, and the many others that had died since he took up the journey to find his brother in the Murkle Quags.
Tears welled in his eyes as dwarves lined up to lay offerings at the tomb’s edge. Some gave coins, others gave small, polished stones. Then the tomb was sealed and runes were carved into the stone facing outward from the tomb.
“Can’t they take them home?” Jason asked.
Ziegler shook his head. “I don’t know much about the dwarves, but from what I have read, the dwarves tend to bury their dead in the nearest mountain of rock, rather than gather them into a cemetery. If you die at home as a dwarf, then they bury you at home. If you die away from home, and away from your family, then you are buried where you fell.”
“Never to return home,” Jason whispered.
A black-haired dwarf, called Taitin by the others, approached then and shook his head. “That is where you are mistaken,” he said softly. “A dwarf is at home in the stone. Whether the rocks are in Shuldern or across the seas, all stone is connected under the surface. They are home now as sure as you and I are breathing. They’ll find peace, and their families will join them in the rocks one day. They have returned to that which gave them life.”
Ziegler nodded and offered a slight, respectful bow to Taitin. Jason smiled and then turned to Jonathan. The two brothers exchanged a glance without speaking their thoughts. Then they turned and went back to the wagons. The dwarves were a tough people, Jonathan knew, but he had expected them to at least pitch camp for the night. Instead, they all decided to push through in an effort to make up for lost time. Jonathan knew better than to question whether the dwarves felt grief at the loss of their kin, but had he not witnessed their display at the burial, he might have thought them callous.
Jonathan watched the road sail by until the darkness of night overtook everything around them. After a while, even the trees on the edge of the road were hardly noticeable as everything melded into one giant scene of blackness. Jonathan was nearly itching to light a torch, but unlike humans, the dwarves could see well enough in the dark, so no torches were lit. The cavedogs almost seemed to speed up in the cool night as they flawlessly navigated the road. The young warrior watched the driver, now a shifting dark form in the night, and listened to the calls and clicks he made to his cavedogs.
After a while, Ziegler nudged Jonathan and told him to get some sleep. Jonathan moved to the back of the wagon and made a pillow out of some stuffed sacks. He made himself comfortable and had barely closed his eyes when something big jumped up and landed in the wagon beside him. The whole wagon rocked at the added weight, but Jonathan seemed to be the only one to notice.
A heavy foot came down on his chest and a leathery snout moved in to touch his cheek. The beast made a sniffing sound and then turned to curl up next to Jonathan.
“Seems you have indeed made a friend,” Ziegler called out.
Jonathan grunted, and then put his hand out and carefully set it on the cavedog’s back. “Even if he likes me,” Jonathan began, “I can’t very well keep him as a pet now can I?”
“Oh, I would hardly call a cavedog a pet,” Ziegler said. “More of a compani
on.”
“Well, he won’t like going where we’re headed,” Jonathan argued.
“If a cavedog takes a shine to you, then there isn’t anything you can do to shake it,” the driver called out over his shoulder.
“Well, can’t you take him?” Jonathan asked.
The driver scoffed. “No!” he said harshly. “If a cavedog chooses you, I can’t simply take him away. You should be honored, not looking for excuses.”
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Jonathan said.
“Be a good master to him, boy, and honor my friend’s memory,” the driver called out. “That’s the way he would have wanted it. You look after that cavedog, and he’ll look after you.”
Jonathan sighed and let the conversation drop. There wasn’t much else to say anyway. He wondered for a moment how Pa and Memaw would react if he came strolling up the path toward the cabin with a giant lizard trotting at his side like some kind of dog. For that matter, what would trading in town be like if he had a razor-toothed animal trailing him everywhere he went? Not exactly the companion he had ever thought he would have, but then again, he supposed he could do a lot worse.
It wasn’t long before the caravan had reached Tyrwyn. Once there, Ziegler was quick to silently disentangle himself from the caravan. Jonathan offered to go with him, but Ziegler insisted that he should go alone.
Jason was eager to turn in the voucher he had received from Dignar, so Jonathan placed his newly acquired cavedog with the other cavedogs in a stable of sorts, and one of the other dwarves promised to watch after the animal until Jonathan returned. The brothers then meandered through the streets of the elven town. Unlike the other cities they had visited so far, this one meshed with the forest, incorporating trees and shrubs into the city itself. None of the buildings were so tall as to overshadow the canopy of green above them, and a few houses were built directly into the trees themselves, some up in the branches, and others into the trunks of super massive redwoods. Other building were built upon the ground, but they were situated between great oaks and tall pines.
There was no central market, however, which meant that the brothers had to search through the city in order to find the right place. Even though the dwarves had tried to point them in the right direction, they found themselves wandering through the streets for over an hour before they finally came to a building made of green stone. Tall windows of stained glass accentuated the front, and a brass sign hung over the door with one word etched into its surface.
Telwenyr.
“This has to be the place,” Jason said.
Jonathan gestured for Jason to go first. He then followed him to the door and they walked inside.
Once they entered the building they were met with the scent of pine and cinnamon. Rows and rows of windows stood against wooden racks lining the entire floor of the front room. Many of them were plain, but there were also more fanciful windows as well. They made their way to the counter in the back and found a tall elf with blonde hair and a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles sitting on his face.
“Ah, welcome, welcome. It has been a long time since I have seen humans in these parts. May the roads rise to meet your feet, and the sun light the way before you.” The elf bowed. “I’m Telwenyr, and you now find yourself in the finest window shop in all of Tanglewood Forest.” the elf said.
“I am Jason, Jason Haymaker,” Jason replied. “This is my brother, Jonathan.” Jason indicated his brother and Jonathan gave a slight nod. Jason then cleared his throat and fished the receipt out of his sock.
“Well, what can I do for you today?” Telwenyr asked as he pulled his spectacles down to polish them.
Jason came back up with the paper and handed it to Telwenyr. “I’m here to collect on this.”
Telwenyr arched a thin brow and cocked his head at the paper. “It has been a long time since I have seen that particular receipt,” he said. He reached his hand out and pulled the paper from Jason. “How did you come by it?”
“I helped Dignar with a favor,” Jason said with a shrug.
“A favor?” Telwenyr echoed questioningly. “Must have been important. These are the most expensive windows I have ever crafted. I thought the dwarf mad when he ordered their production. Tell me, where shall I have them delivered?”
Jason smiled. “My grandfather’s cabin, in Holstead. I can give you instructions if you wish.”
“You grandfather?” Telwenyr said. “You aren’t keeping them for yourself? Most humans who live in the northern part of Chamdrian Peninsula could buy their way into a better life with these windows. Even if all you did was disassemble them and sell the parts you would have more than most soldiers of fortune.”
“How did you know I was from the northern part of the peninsula?” Jason asked.
Telwenyr smiled. “Your clothes. They are too plain to be from the larger cities in the south. Not that there is anything wrong with that, of course. Many mercenaries come from the northern parts.”
Jonathan noted the elf’s glance to Jason’s sword. “We aren’t mercenaries,” Jonathan said quickly.
“Well you aren’t merchants either,” Telwenyr said. “Humans are rare enough in these parts, and those who do venture out to us usually carry swords for a very particular reason.”
“I was a soldier once,” Jason said.
“Not anymore?” Telwenyr pried.
Jason shook his head. “Just looking for a friend,” he said truthfully.
Telwenyr nodded and flicked his nose with a finger. “I’ll have the windows delivered. If I were you, I would be leaving as soon as possible. There are many prying eyes in this city, not all of them friendly to outsiders.”
Jonathan felt a strange tingling on the back of his neck as Telwenyr glanced up to his right. The young warrior turned, but he saw only a robin sitting outside the window.
“He can’t hear us,” Telwenyr said quickly. “I have this building shielded, but that won’t stop him from getting someone who can enter and find out who you are for themselves.”
“The bird?” Jonathan asked, thumbing in its direction. Just then the bird took off, flapping its wings in a fury.
Telwenyr nodded. “Now that you scared it off, you should hurry. The bird’s master will not be long behind. If you are looking for your friend, I would head north. There are strange ruins in the north. Some even say that the elves that have been disappearing have been taken somewhere into the forest.”
“How do you know of that?” Jason asked.
“You can trust me,” Telwenyr replied evenly. “A friend of mine went to the north in search of his cousin. Neither of them ever returned.” Telwenyr glanced toward the door nervously biting his lower lip. “You should go. I’ll deliver the windows as directed.”
Jonathan and Jason thanked the elf and left the building. Outside they ran into Captain Ziegler. The large man was wearing a frown and his eyes were darting about, scanning the streets. “I followed the lead, but found only a dead end.”
“Literally or figuratively?” Jason asked.
“Three bodies, fairly fresh. Killed maybe a week ago and poorly hidden.”
“Any further clues?” Jonathan said.
Ziegler nodded. “I think I know a bit more about who we are looking for. Come on, we should hurry. We are being watched,” Ziegler said.
Jason nodded. “We finished our business, we just have to go back for the cavedog and our backpacks.”
Ziegler pointed to a side street. “Come on, we’ll go this way.”
The three made haste back to the stables and found Jonathan’s cavedog eager to rejoin them. They gathered their backpacks and started to head out when one of the other dwarves came up to Jonathan and pulled him aside.
“There are some things you should know,” the dwarf said. “The cavedog isn’t a pet. It’s a companion. It thinks independently. It acts on instinct, but it is very intelligent. Each cavedog responds to its master differently, but it will be loyal to you.” The dwarf smiled and glanced down to
the cavedog. “They eat a lot, so be careful around farms or other domestic animals. The cavedogs know not to hurt people, and never would unless there is danger, but they’ll eat a cat as happily as a rabbit.”
Jonathan nodded and smiled. “I heard the drivers clicking and making other sounds. Should I learn some of those?”
The dwarf shrugged. “I would say yes, but seeing as how this pup is a feral cavedog that has been re-domesticated, I don’t know that it would work. This one in particular has always been a bit stubborn anyhow. Just treat it like you would a human dog, though it doesn’t need a bed next to the fire. It can make its own bed, and it can tunnel too.”
“Like a dog?” Jonathan questioned. “I don’t know any dogs like this.”
The dwarf smiled. “On second thought, best not to let it near crops either, on account of its tunneling. It will never fully get used to being topside. It’s an animal of the mountain.”
“Lot of help that does us,” Jason put in. “Don’t let it near a farm, and you can’t give us any commands because this animal is too wild to follow them. What should we do?”
The dwarf nodded and frowned. “Right. I suppose that didn’t do you a lot of good.” He put on another smile and slapped Jonathan’s upper arm. “Just be careful then, eh? Best of luck.”
“Best of luck?” Jonathan said. “Well, what’s that supposed to mean?”
The dwarf waved over his head but didn’t stop to turn around.
“Come on, we’ll figure it out as we go. Can’t be much different from taking in a dog,” Ziegler said.
“A dog with scales, massive fangs that could rip through a man’s leg, and claws that dig through mountains maybe,” Jason retorted.
The cavedog moved in and nuzzled Jonathan’s leg. Jonathan bent down and petted the animal. “How do we feed it?”
“It will hunt for itself,” the dwarf shouted back at them. “If you’re lucky, it will hunt for you too.”
“Good hearing on that one,” Jason noted.
Ziegler nodded. “Let’s go.”
Jonathan stood and patted his leg as he would to encourage a dog to follow. To his surprise, it worked.