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Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

Page 16

by Thompson, J. J.


  “Fortunately not. But from our conversations with them, it's obvious that the dwarves aren't magical creatures like the elves are. They use magic in forging their metal work, but they are mortal like you and I.”

  “So where have they been for thousands of years?”

  “Well, according to Stanis Ironfist, that's the leader of the group that visits us, after the magic faded the dwarves retreated to their own underground halls, in the 'deep of the world' as he calls it. Apparently, the loss of the Earth's magic also rendered their weapons, armor and machines useless and they withdrew to their own cities to wait for better days. Dwarves are a patient lot,” Clara added dryly.

  “And now they're back. Wow.”

  “Yes, Simon. They're back and so are the elves, seemingly. And other things that once existed are returning as well. Not all of them will be benevolent.”

  Clara held up a hand and ticked off her fingers as she spoke.

  “Orcs, trolls, ogres, giants. Well, the list of creatures is practically endless. I've had visions of these things walking the Earth again and I believe them. We are soon going to be living in very interesting times.”

  Simon laughed shortly.

  “That's one way to put it, I suppose. If we survive.”

  “Yes, exactly.” The cleric's face became grave. “And we won't survive, any of us, as long as the dragons exist. That is our greatest threat and should be our number one priority; eliminating those monsters.”

  “I agree.”

  Simon stood up abruptly and walked to the door, sorting through his thoughts. He looked at Kronk and Aeris and then turned back to stare at Clara.

  “As I told you, I've begun thinking about how we might deal with the dragons. If we can. But the only thing I can come up with is some sort of coalition. Gathering together as many Changlings as possible who are willing and able to fight, as well as any other allies we can find. Maybe my run-in with the elves and your meeting the dwarves is more than mere coincidence. If both races were willing to help us, although why they'd want to and what they could do is a mystery to me, then perhaps we'd have a chance.”

  As he spoke, Simon became excited by the idea. A large group, using magic, dwarves attacking wearing magical armor, elves doing...whatever elves did. It was a grand vision.

  Clara didn't speak right away; she simply looked thoughtful.

  “It's a lovely idea, Simon,” she replied finally. “But none of us is ready for that. Not yet. And what could possibly motivate either of those older races to help us? Many would die in such an attack and for what? The dwarves are hidden deep enough, they say, that the dragons may never bother them. And the elves don't live in our world, according to your elvish visitor. What would they gain by joining a coalition?”

  Simon was caught short by Clara's reply, his grand vision fading to harsh reality.

  He walked back to the table and sat down, feeling deflated.

  “You're right, of course. Sorry. I got carried away by the idea for a minute.”

  “Don't be sorry, my friend,” Clara said and patted his hand gently. “I'm not saying it's a bad idea. But these things must proceed slowly. We do have several years before we must face the dragons. Years that we will all spend honing our powers. With luck, the elves will contact you again. And the dwarves are becoming friendlier with each visit. We'll keep the thought of an alliance to ourselves for now, and who knows? When the time is right, they may choose to join the fight.”

  Simon stared at her incredulously.

  “Then you agree with me?”

  She laughed at his expression.

  “Of course I do. None of us will ever be so powerful that we can take on a dragon alone. We are fighting for our world and our future, Simon, and we must do it together.” She finished her tea. “But not just yet.”

  He nodded. Clara was right, of course. It was too soon. But one day, oh yes, one day they would strike back. He would try to hold on to that hope.

  “Now, introducing ourselves to a new neighbor was not our only reason for visiting you today.” the cleric told him, suddenly sounding business-like. At Simon's inquiring look, she smiled. “Like our new dwarven friends, we'd like to instigate a bit of trade.”

  She looked over at the doorway.

  “Aeris has kept your secrets, but he did mention that you have a certain knack when it comes to growing fruits and vegetables.”

  Simon felt both surprise and a certain small pride at that news.

  “You told her that?” he asked the elemental.

  Aeris flew over to the table and hovered near them.

  “I did. When I visited her settlement, Clara was kind enough to take me on a tour. They are growing great amounts of grain and other basic foodstuffs, but I noticed that there was a lack of vegetables. That is when I told her about your talents in the garden.”

  “Well, thanks for that.” Simon told him with a grin. Aeris nodded but stayed silent.

  “Anyway,” Clara continued, “we thought that perhaps we could trade some things that you might have need of for any crops that you'd be willing to share.”

  She looked over at the two men, both of whom stood up, grabbed their packs and walked to the table.

  “Show him what we brought, please,” she told them.

  Richard opened his pack and took out a large square package wrapped in canvas. He set it on the table with a thump and unwrapped it.

  “Smoked meat,” he told Simon as the contents were revealed.

  Simon gaped at the large block of dried meat. My God, when was the last time I ate meat, he wondered as he stared at it.

  “Our people are quite good hunters,” Clara told him. “And the fields and forests around our village are teeming with wild cattle, not to mention feral pigs, deer and many more game animals. I guessed that you might not be that great at hunting.”

  “Oh, you are so right,” Simon told her with an embarrassed grin. “I've been a vegetarian since I moved here. Not by choice, I might add. I've just never been able to think of a way to catch any game. And if I did, I wouldn't even know how to dress it, or whatever it's called.”

  Clara laughed and gave him a reassuring look.

  “I feel the same way, Simon. I'm happy to have people around me who can deal with that chore. So, we have the meat. And Michael?”

  The other man nodded and opened his backpack, resting it on the table. He carefully lifted out a wooden box, longer than it was wide and placed it on the tabletop. Simon heard the tinkle of glass from inside.

  Michael glanced at Clara, who made an encouraging gesture, and he slid the top off of the box. He began pulling bottles out and lined them up side-by-side on the table. There were six of them.

  “Wine,” Clara said simply and Simon gaped at the dark bottles of red liquid.

  “Wine? My God, you've made wine?”

  At his tone of disbelief, the three others laughed.

  “Yes. One of our people was a vintner in his previous life. He insisted on planting a vineyard once we'd begun laying out our fields for grains and root vegetables. We felt that those were the most necessary crops for a large group of people.”

  “Well, I think this is amazing. Thank you all so much.”

  The two men received his thanks with nods and went to stand near the door. Clara looked at him speculatively.

  “Now I know we've sprung this on you rather abruptly, my friend. If you have nothing to spare at the moment, I'll understand. We can trade some more in the future.”

  Simon had been thinking furiously.

  “No, no. I'm sure I have a few things you might have a use for. Kronk?”

  The little guy tapped over and stood next to his chair.

  “Yes master?”

  “Would you go down to the cold storage and grab a sack of last years apples? They're still good and I have more than enough for my needs.”

  “Yes, of course, master,” he said and hurried toward the stairs.

  “Apples? Oh, that's wonderful! Tha
nk you, Simon.” Clara sounded quite pleased. “We've had no luck with fruit. I don't know why. The soil, perhaps. The grapes grow well, but that's about it.”

  “Like my experiment with wheat,” Simon told her dryly. “Terrible results, although I've got a collection of seeds still that I'm going to try out in the future. But there's something else that I think you might like.”

  He stood up and walked to the large cabinet at the end of his kitchen counter, next to the fireplace. He opened the wide doors and rummaged through the various bags and boxes until he found a small sack tightly tied with a bit of cord. He carried it back to the table and presented it to Clara with a little bow and a smile.

  “Chamomile tea,” Simon told her as he sat down. “I've got lots and you may enjoy it on cool nights.”

  She looked delighted.

  “Lovely. Thank you, my friend. My people will be very grateful for this. Our skill with herbs is abysmal to be honest.”

  “I'm happy to share, Clara. Give me a month and I'll have fresh tomatoes for you. And now that we've established some trade between us, I'll begin planting extras. I have more than enough room in my garden to add more plants.”

  “Excellent. If you'd like, I'll have some wheat flour delivered at the same time. It makes wonderful bread.”

  She stood up as she spoke. Kronk appeared from the basement, a bag over his back that was much bigger than he was. He carried it over to Richard and offered it up to the man, who took it with thanks.

  “Well, that's about all the time we have for today.” She looked at Simon regretfully. “It will take about three hours to get home and I'd prefer not hiking through the forest in the dark.”

  Simon stood up and watched as Richard stowed his offering in his pack and slipped it on to his back.

  “Are you sure you can't stay? I'd be happy to make you some dinner before you go.”

  “I'm sorry, my friend,” Clara said regretfully. “But my people get a little nervous when I'm gone for any extended time. And my two companions here are the best fighters we have. The village hasn't been threatened by anything, yet. But as I told you, things are heating up and, sooner or later, night creatures will be back to bedevil all of us. Richard and Michael are needed at home, just in case.”

  Simon walked around the table and shook hands with both men. They removed their gauntlets before grabbing his hand and both wished him well.

  “Gentlemen, go ahead out. I have to speak with Simon for a moment and then I'll join you.”

  They nodded and clumped out the door.

  Clara turned to Simon once they were alone. She glanced at the elementals speculatively, then shrugged slightly.

  “We've made a good beginning here, Simon,” she told him. “I hope this is the start of a long and mutually beneficial friendship.”

  “So do I, Clara. If you need to speak with me, or pass on any information, I'm sure that Aeris will be happy to facilitate that.”

  Aeris bowed to the cleric.

  “If I can help in any way, it would be my pleasure,” he assured her.

  “Thank you,” she told him. Then she looked gravely at Simon and lowered her voice.

  “I asked my men to leave because of one other thing I'd like to pass on to you,” she said quietly.

  Simon waited, wondering what she was talking about.

  “Aeris asked me, on your behalf, if there was a way for me to discover your true name,” she continued.

  With a jolt, Simon suddenly remembered the original reason that he'd wanted to speak with the cleric and felt like an idiot for forgetting in the excitement of meeting new people.

  Clara seemed to be reading his thoughts and smiled gently.

  “I prayed for guidance from the old gods and they saw fit to answer my prayers.”

  She reached into her robes and pulled out a square of yellowed, crinkled paper.

  “I wrote down exactly what I was told to write, and then promptly forgot it.” At his startled look, she shrugged. “Apparently the gods did not want me to remember your true name. Secrecy is safer for something like this.”

  She handed him the paper and Simon accepted it with shaking fingers.

  “Use it as you see fit, young wizard,” she told him with a smile. “And although you undoubtedly trust your elemental friends, it would be wise to share this with no one.”

  She tapped the hand that was holding the slip of paper tightly.

  “Destroy this after you have read it. Names have power and you cannot allow others to have such power over you.”

  Simon began to express his gratitude but Clara just shook her head.

  “No thanks are necessary. It is good to have a new ally. Call us if you need us and remember, you are welcome to visit any time you wish.”

  “The same applies to you and your people, Clara. Thank you for everything.”

  He walked her out the door and down to the gate where Richard and Michael were waiting patiently. Kronk and Aeris followed behind them.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Simon told the three visitors. “I hope that you'll come back soon.”

  “Thanks for the hospitality, wizard,” Richard said solemnly. Then he winked. “And enjoy that wine. I warn you, it has a bit of a kick.”

  Simon laughed.

  “I'll remember that. Have a safe journey home. Take care.”

  They all waved, Clara gave him a last smile and the three briskly crossed the clearing and disappeared into the woods beyond.

  Simon turned and looked at the two elementals.

  “Well, that was interesting, wasn't it?” he said.

  Chapter 12

  After his evening meal, which included several slices of smoked meat, Simon cracked open one of the bottles of wine. Unfortunately he didn't have a wine glass and ended up deciding to use his teacup instead.

  “Seems almost insulting to use this,” he muttered to himself and then shrugged. “Oh well. I'll appreciate it just the same, I suppose.”

  He let the wine breathe for a few minutes and then took the cup and bottle and climbed the stairs and walked into his study. He set them on the desk, then opened the window and looked at the grounds in the approaching twilight.

  The gates were closed and locked and the wall glowed with the power of his protective runes. He wondered idly if anyone but he could see that glow.

  He turned around and sat down on his leather chair with a weary sigh. It had been an amazing day and he was tired. It was more of a mental exhaustion than a physical one.

  With a flick of power, he lit the two candles on his desk. That much he could do now without even thinking about it, and he was pleased at how useful the little trick was.

  Simon filled his cup and then sipped the wine. He swallowed carefully, not knowing what to expect. And then he smiled broadly. The wine was smooth with a slight bite and tasted wonderful. He had another mouthful and then set down the cup.

  He reached into a pocket of his robe and pulled out the square of paper that Clara had handed him. He had resisted looking at it all day, still absorbing the visit and the future relations he had to look forward to.

  He'd learned so much so quickly that he had needed some time to correlate it all.

  But now it was time to read the note. Both Kronk and Aeris were outside patrolling the grounds. He hadn't asked them to do that, but it seemed that they had decided between them that it was part of their duties and Simon was grateful.

  Even though he was alone, he looked around the room one last time before unfolding the note. Then he opened it and spread it flat on the desk. The candlelight flickered over the word that was printed there in clear, square letters but he could read it clearly.

  'Valagar,' he read silently. And as he did, he felt the skin on his neck tighten and the hair on his arms rise up with goosebumps.

  Simon's eyes watered as if from a bright light and he felt tears trickle down his face.

  What the hell is going on, he wondered. His body began to tremble and he gripped the ar
ms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles showed through his skin like lumps of ivory.

  Slowly, joint by joint, the fit passed and he wiped sweat and tears off of his face with his sleeve. He looked at the note again and watched, wide-eyed, as the letters slowly faded. In a moment they were gone and he was staring at a blank piece of scrap paper.

  Well, so much for having to destroy it, he thought numbly. Nonetheless, he picked up the paper and lit one corner with a candle. The note burst into flame and was quickly consumed, leaving nothing but ashes and an acrid burnt smell in the air.

  Simon sat back, ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.

  So that's my true name, he thought. Valagar. He shrugged unconsciously. He'd never heard a word like it before and certainly it wasn't a name that he'd ever used. But from his body's reaction, he was sure that Clara had been right. That was his true name. Now he just had to figure out how to use it.

  Were you supposed to keep it in mind as you cast a spell? No, that didn't sound right. It would only be a distraction. Aeris had mentioned inscribing it on a staff or a ring or...he swallowed at the thought: his body.

  He considered the implications of Aeris' suggestions. Obviously, you used your true name as some sort of channel, strengthening your powers. He examined the idea. Yes, it felt right somehow.

  So, what about a staff? He pictured himself, a long-haired skinny kid waving a staff around and casting spells and snorted with amusement. No, bad idea. A wand was just as ridiculous. Maybe a ring or bracelet?

  Those were definite possibilities. But his mind kept coming back, reluctantly, to the idea of a tattoo. He'd never had one back in the old days, although lots of his fellow competitors in strongman competitions were covered with the damned things. Simon thought they looked silly. Why ink a picture on your body that you wouldn't care to hang on your wall? What was the point?

  Now though, now he had to consider it. He smiled to himself humorlessly. Imagine, having to be reborn to finally get a tattoo. Was that irony? He wasn't sure. But it was oddly funny.

  He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He stood up and picked up one candle by its holder and blew out the other one. He decided to sleep on it. Maybe a better idea would present itself overnight.

 

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