by P. G. Thomas
For the first time in dwarf history, silence filled the great hall even though no chair was empty. This night, laughs would not echo off of the walls, and tears of joy would not find the floor—as all consumed the meal in quiet.
Lauren hated it, as the silence in the hall was deafening. With so many wanting to meet with her, it should have been different, and it would have been except for three images. Picking at the meal, she scanned the large crowd who respected her pain with silence. Looking into their eyes, where there should have been wonderment, she only saw the reflected agony that smothered her heart. The meal was only half done when she excused herself, followed quickly by Ryan. As she fled the quiet room, knowing that all eyes were on her, Fodu looked to his wife Crystal, who immediately went after them.
Eric turned to Aaro and tried to form the necessary words.
He understood the thoughts of the giant dwarf, “Brother, you need no apology. Of this, none will speak. She is legend, and they now understand her pain.”
“Fodu, I know the threat of trollmares is your priority,” began John, “but I’ve a favor to ask of you. My mithril cloak was destroyed along with the kites. We still have the chains, but can you make me a new cloak and kite?”
“Brother, do wish to torture me,” but then Fodu remembered stitching up the backs of both John and Lauren.
“It’s important, otherwise, I wouldn’t ask. Do you remember the pattern?”
“For years after you left, I drank, and tried to forget it, but I could not. If you plucked out my eyes, I could still stitch it. My fingers will never forget that pattern. As we are better with mithril, so I will make it.”
“Thanks, Fodu.” Then he reached for a jug of honey ale, filled his mug, and silently toasted the vacant chairs at the end reserved for Gor and Hakk.
With the celebration being short, when John, Eric, and Logan stood, the rest of the dwarves did the same, and then they quietly walked past the legends, exiting the great hall. Steve, Mirtza, and Gayne, feeling out of place, also followed.
*******
The next morning, John woke late. Going down to the meeting room, he found breakfast waiting and the others present. Filling a mug with hot bean juice, he went over to Lauren, “How’re you this morning?”
“Better. Crystal gave me something to sleep, and I think it’s the first time in a week that I didn’t have nightmares.”
Bor then entered the room to check up on Lauren.
“I’ve been a terrible guest, and I apologize. Last night, I saw your son and the other children. Can I please visit with them?”
“Are you sure?” asked Ryan.
“Yes, I would like to see some innocent smiles, hearing their childish laughter, and have them look upon me for who I am, not as a legend.”
Bor smiled, “To you, I will bring them.”
Twenty minutes later, Ruby led her twins, Lauren and Logan, named after the legends and first ever born to dwarves, into the room. They were about two feet tall, refusing to sit still. Then Crystal brought in her daughter, Amber. She was a little taller, leaner, and had her mother’s deer ears. The other wives of the Ironhouse brothers brought in their children: Gor and Grax. It made Lauren smile to pick up little Lauren, but when she went to pass the young dwarven girl to Ryan, he declined. Instead, walking over to the terrace door, he went out into the storm, trying to cool down. Feeling the rage growing, he wanted his magic and daughters back.
Having seen Ryan’s look, Steve followed, as he was used to dealing with delicate situations, and those that required a little more to change a perspective. It wasn’t a topic they taught you in class, you learned it on the job. Domestic disputes, homicides, fatal car accidents. The lessons came fast, hard, when you had to talk to the distraught parents, the grieving children, or the wife covered in bruises. However, when you’re sitting at home in the dark, and when your life is shattered into more pieces than the broken liquor bottle you just threw at the wall, something dies. His court-ordered psychiatrist called it post-traumatic stress disorder. Steve, he called it doing his job.
Chapter 8
“Get out of here!” shouted Ryan.
Steve was shielding his eyes from the driving rain, “Kid, you can’t let it get to you because it’ll chew up your insides. You can try to puke out the pain, but you can’t. I should know, I tried.”
“WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?”
“You took vows, honor them. She needs you, and I think you make her stronger. Right now, I’m pretty sure she’s the wind beneath your wings.”
“I have daughters out there, and I don’t know what to do.”
“We’re doing something. You have one hell of a fan club here, who said they would help, so let’s see how. John mentioned your friend Zack, saying he would also help. I understand what’s happening to you, and yeah, to be honest, I don’t. You see those little babies, start thinking of your daughters, and a million questions explode in your head. I’ve been in similar situations, but for me, it was mortar fire and RPGs. You can’t lose your cool and run out onto the battlefield, you need to think.”
Ryan sat down on one of the wet chairs, cradling his head in his hands, “What am I supposed to think?”
“I know you’re in a tight spot. You have to take that pain, pushing it to the back of your mind, pushing through it, and get to the other side.”
“Ever lost one of your children?” Then he added, “Or had them abducted?”
“Trust me, Kid. You don’t want to talk about loss or guilt with me.”
“Why, no reference points?”
“Too many.”
“Bullshit, Easy answer, easy out.”
“Do you want to know why I call everybody Kid? At boot camp, I met a lot of great guys, knew everything about them. First trip overseas, all I came back with was their names. Then I started to train new recruits, knew all of their names as well— just don’t know where they died. After a while, I started to call everybody the same, that way, when those images haunted my dreams, I only have one name to remember. Do you want more? Three times, I was one of forty that walked into the unknown, but only one of ten or fewer that returned. Bad enemy Intel slaughtered over a hundred of my closest friends, and guys I barely had a chance to know. Until you walk back ten clicks, covered in blood, in that heat, knowing their bodies could be lost forever, you really don’t know what guilt is. Training civilians to provide protection in their rural towns, returning two days later, seeing the heads mounted on spikes. Schoolhouses torched, and the air thick with burnt death from innocent children. Then while wearing the blue, the senseless,—so much red. Trust me, Kid. Trading stories of loss and guilt, you don’t stand an effing chance. We’re here and doing something. Even the good Lord took seven days to create the world, and we’ve only been here for six. So yeah, I might not understand what you’re going through, but pray you never exchange dreams with me.” Steve paused, taking a deep breath. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Lift your sorry ass up off that wet chair, go back in there, and pick up one of those little children. Then imagine how you’ll feel when you hold your daughters in your hands, or if you want, I can kick your sorry ass back in there, providing you with the necessary motivation.”
“You’re lucky my magic hasn’t found me yet!”
“You’re the lucky one. You have a wife that loves you so go to her.”
Ryan stood, headed for the meeting room.
Eric, who was listening behind them, sat down, “He’s right you know. If he had his powers, he would’ve made your worst nightmares feel like the old black and white cartoons you watched as a kid. For the record, you did the right thing, and if he ever rages for the wrong reason, just keep mentioning Lauren since it confuses the machine inside of him.”
Yeah, you told me. “What?”
“John has a theory that all of those titanium parts in him, which attract the magic, form some sort of super machine in Ryan. We just never figured out if he keeps the machine in check, or if the m
achine keeps him in check.”
“Hey, what do you mean? Old black and white cartoons? How old do you think I am?” By that time, Eric had entered the meeting room. As Steve returned to the Ironhouse Mine, Fen had also walked in, and asked the small group to follow him. Then Lauren, Ryan, John, and the rest said goodbye to the wives and young children.
Guiding them down six levels, Fen opened a door into a cavernous room, having tiered stone-carved benches on the right-hand side, where Aaro and Bor waited for the group.
As they sat, Aaro pointed to the hundreds of battle practicing dwarves, “With the trollmare attacks increasing, dwarf now trains special fighters. Trollmares seek death, so dwarf will provide.” While most of the dwarves were fighting with axes, a few had swords, and the occasional one had similar to the unusual edged weapons the three had seen the day before but made from wood.
“Why not go to the western Ironhouse Mine?” asked Lauren.
“Ironhouse, we carved our first words in granite, and words many since then we have added. Only one word only was ever erased. Its offense so great, the clan leader with hammer and chisel removed it. These valleys and lands belong to Ironhouse, and we will not run. Dwarf will reclaim our lands. This day we shall make it safe again for dwarf to walk in sunlight, but we have a bigger problem. Earth Mother walks alone, being absent of her Earth Guard and this is wrong. With Bor last night, I discussed this, and we must correct this.” Aaro stood, walked to the edge of the training area, and the dwarf in charge bellowed out, ‘Halt.’ All of the dwarves immediately stopped, turning to face the stands. Aaro looked at the great assembly of warriors, his large voice sounding small in the massive room. “Years many past, dragons stalked our skies, giants of frost lands invaded our valleys, and we warred with the other clans. In those days of glory and sadness great, the clans sought out the finest warriors. Those few they trained then hard, better than best all were. A new purpose they embraced: to protect clan leaders, master weapon smiths, and more. They were named Granite Guardians, and in the dwarf hall their great legends still live, relived and retold to this day. When Ironhouse sent out our word, Trollmare Slayers we sought, and you stepped forward. Trollmares still rule our lands, dwarf lands, but that reign will soon end. Some will return to your mines, teaching others your new skills to brothers brave. Within four moons, the new weapons will all be forged, and many trained mounts wait for dwarf riders. Tomorrow, all will train with new weapons. Wood they may be, but you shall master then quickly because you are dwarf. In days numbered seven, dwarf proclaims war on trollmares, and we will take back our lands!”
As the assembled crowd let out a rousing cheer, sitting in the stands, the group covered their ears to lessen its volume, and Bor headed down.
Holding up his hands, Aaro silenced the gathering, “Your skills are great, bravery not matched by height, fear not known to you, and all accepted the challenge. We have a new challenge, as Earth Mother Ironhouse looks to us, but she is not ours alone. Over twenty clans granted the title and privilege to her, but Earth Guards do not protect her path. With my brother I talked, and this day, to the past I reach, and that which was, I reforge.”
Bor stood beside his brother, “Dax Steelfire, Siletz Deepmine, Jakel Goldfinder, Kraj Silverbright, Breax Ironhouse, and Jaykil Ironhouse, here now stand you will.”
The six named dwarves quickly ran to the front, standing tall in front of the two. Aaro scanned them, “This honor you did not ask for and can decline, but dwarf need is great. If you desire to turn away, and you will not couple with shame.”
The eight, sitting in the stands, all noticed the single element that the dwarves had in common: a wooden model of the strange weapon.
As they watched, Steve leaned over to John, “What is this, a Top Gun school?”
“I guess so, never been down to this level before.”
“So what’s going on?” asked Steve.
“I don’t know.” From the far end of their group, he felt the cold stare of Lauren.
Walking up to Dax Steelfire, Bor asked him his name, which he replied, ‘Granite Guardian.’ Bor handed him a leather strip, which he accepted, and tied around his beard. Pulling out a long dagger, he cut his beard off, giving it to Bor, who continued to the next dwarf where the same scene played out. After asking the last, he walked up to Aaro, showing him the beards.
Aaro looked at the six, “Your clans are proud. In your blood, pride flows, like forged metal: thick and pure. Earth Mother Ironhouse anguish is great, and her daughters she must find, but we cannot make her wait. This month two events great happened. We have struggled long, but we now have an advantage. The new armour and weapons have been tested, and with them, he once known as Jaykil Ironhouse slayed a trollmare single handed.”
At that moment, the assembled dwarven warriors let out a loud cheer, which echoed for several minutes in the great room, and Lauren walked down the bench. Squeezing in between Eric and John, when the cheer started to die down, her confusion began to build. “What the hell is happening.”
“Just watch,” but John was uncertain of what was happening.
Aaro continued, “Seven moons past, I sharpened six weapons. The need for urgency I now understand.” Signaling to the side, six apprentices walked out of the stands, each holding a box. Aaro looked at the Granite Guardians, telling them to kneel, and then continued, “Last night I met with my brothers, and we talked long into the night. Weapons great should be named, as strength and good fortunes are bestowed to those named champion. The forge gifts heat, casts gift the design, but destiny is name forged. We decided to name them after the legends, as we could think of no greater honor.”
Aaro walked up to the first dwarf, Dax Steelfire. He removed an elongated silver curved blade from the box and held it up. “Named Beast Fang, after Legend Absent,” then handed the weapon to the kneeling dwarf. Moving in front of Siletz Deepmine, he raised the second, “Named Blood Lust, in Champion’s honor.” He continued to move down the line, raising each for all to see, and then handing it to a dwarf. To Jakel Goldfinder he handed ‘Rage Storm, named after Rage Heart.’ Then to Kraj Silverbright he gave ‘Mithril Sky, named after Unchosen,’ and to Breax Ironhouse he handed ‘Bastards Fire, named after Bastard.’ Standing in front of the last dwarf, he withdrew the weapon, raised it high, causing the assembled group of dwarves to exhale in amazement. It was the same size as the rest, having more runes carved on it, and half a dozen large red gemstones mounted. Then Aaro exclaimed, “Heart of Earth Mother,” and the crowd exploded with a round of deafening cheers.
“What the hell’s happening?” asked Lauren.
He would tell her later that the cheering crowd drowned out her question.
Aaro clapped his hands, which silenced the crowd. “This night, we will celebrate the victory of the one known as Jaykil Ironhouse, but he will be absent. When he returns, his victory we will celebrate again.”
“This is done,” advised Bor. “Tell all, Granite Guardians you saw this day. This night we will celebrate. Now leave.” He pointed to the group in the stands, signaling for them to join him.
Lauren, realizing that something was about to happen, felt confident she was not going to like it.
When she and the others were standing beside Aaro, he turned to the group, “To you I present the Granite Guardians. Six is not enough, but we cannot more afford.”
She looked at him, “I don’t think I understand.”
“You asked for help, so here it is, Earth Mother. You are Earth Guard absent and need protection, so you now have it.”
“I don’t want another Earth Guard.” Lauren was fighting to hold back the tears of anger, “No, I release you. Go kill trollmares or whatever. You will not die because of me.”
Aaro pointed to where the beards lay, “You already saw their deaths, as they are no longer dwarf. In one hand, honor they may hold, and in the other, there is nothing. If they collect their beards, they will have honor, and be dwarf again once again. If they do not, the
y will be dead. Only one question remains; honor or shame.”
“I’m not an Earth Mother anymore,” replied an angry Lauren, “and I don’t need anybody to protect me.”
Aaro stomped his foot, “When you arrived here, brothers Eric and John were not recognized not. How did you introduce yourself?”
She was unable to say the three words.
“I proclaimed you Earth Mother, and many dwarf granted the same honor: the first dwarf Earth Mother ever. Should something happen to you, I will anger many clans if I do nothing. You are Earth Mother Ironhouse. MY CLAN NOW. YOUR PROTECTION FALLS TO MY SHOULDERS. Where Earth Mother Ironhouse goes, so do her Granite Guardians.” Then Aaro stormed off.
Lauren looked to John, however, having no idea on what to say, he turned to Bor.
He turned to the Granite Guardians, “Go make your preparations. I will protect your beards,” and then turned to the eight, “We will go upstairs so that I can explain.”
*******
The never-ending storm outside had finally lost some of its energy, and when they returned to the guest quarters, the dwarves had set up what they thought was a celebratory lunch on the terrace.