Mossbelly MacFearsome and the Dwarves of Doom

by Alex Gardiner

  ‘Take that away,’ Leatherhead roared, pointing the sword at the crashed van.

  The largest ogre threw back his head and made a loud keening noise. A dragon swooped down and clasped the van’s roof in its talons. There was a metallic screeching as the dragon tightened its grip and the van lifted off the ground. The dragon climbed into the sky. It broke through the clouds and vanished.

  Roger couldn’t help wondering where a dragon would dump a wrecked van.

  ‘Now, this one dies,’ said Leatherhead, standing over Wullie. He raised the sword in both hands and was just about to swing the killing blow when—

  ‘King Golmar’s Braces!’ roared a voice.

  And Moss appeared, launching himself from the top of the crash barrier. His little legs pedalled furiously as he flew through the air. He thumped on to Leatherhead’s back and knocked him stumbling and jerking forward like a mad marionette. The Doomstone Sword flew out of Leatherhead’s hands, spinning backwards. It fell point down outside the safety barrier.

  Moss landed on his feet, pulled out his axes and crouched.

  Leatherhead staggered to a stop. He turned round and unsheathed his battle-axe. The two dwarves faced each other.

  ‘Finally,’ said Moss, ‘we end this. Dwarf weapons. Dwarf against dwarf.’

  ‘The Frog Gobbing Cup should’ve been mine,’ snarled Leatherhead.

  ‘Never!’ Moss roared back. ‘You gob like a mumblecrusted saddle-goose. Natterjack!’

  Both dwarves limped closer. There was a brief pause, and then Moss attacked.

  There was a great oohing and aahing from the dwarf army; some sat down, some leaned against their weapons, some got out baccy pipes and lit them. The gorefiends lowered their spears and turned to watch the battle.

  The ferocity of the fight was incredible. Moss’s arms were like pistons as his small axes rained blow after blow against Leatherhead’s battle-axe. Clashing metal rang out and sparks flew as the onslaught continued unabated. Leatherhead blocked and parried, frantically trying to find a way to counter the furious attack as he was driven backwards.

  Two gorefiends rushed Moss from either side. Without so much as a glance at them, Moss sliced one in half and killed the other with a sweeping back swipe. There was applause from the dwarf army and the giants banged their tree-clubs on the ground. Even some of the watching gorefiends nodded in approval.

  ‘Look,’ said Maddie, pointing.

  Tobias Undercut was creeping away from the fight, heading towards the sword on the other side of the barrier.

  Maddie started to move. Roger grabbed her arm. ‘I’ll go.’ He began to run, one hand holding on to the hammer at his waist. He felt a sudden flood of hope. If he could just get to the sword first!

  The nearest gorefiend’s ears waggled. It turned round and raised its spear.

  ‘Ah,’ said Maddie, stepping right up to the point of the spear. ‘Good, I was looking for you. I wanted to ask you a question. Are you heavy?’

  The gorefiend put its head to one side and twitched. ‘I’m afraid that I do not understand your question.’

  ‘Well,’ said Maddie. ‘Say I put my hands here and here.’ She put both hands wide apart on the wooden shaft of the gorefiend’s spear and gripped it tightly in her fists. ‘Could I lift you like this? Or are you too heavy?’

  ‘I am—’

  Maddie hauled on the spear and swung the gorefiend over her shoulder. It went flying off.

  ‘Oh, youuuu— Aaaaaagrgh!’ shrieked the gorefiend, as it disappeared.

  Tobias saw what was happening and began lumbering faster.

  Roger and the butler reached the safety barrier together. Roger jumped up, one foot on the barrier, then pushed himself over and sprinted forward while Tobias was still struggling to get over.

  Roger pulled the Doomstone Sword out of the ground and swung round–just as something struck him on the head. There was an explosive red flash.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-five

  Roger gently touched his head. There was a large lump just above his eyebrow. He was lying on the ground, with Tobias Undercut standing over him.

  Two gorefiends, carrying the Doomstone Sword between them, scurried back towards the fight on the other side of the barrier.

  ‘What hit me?’ asked Roger, wincing at the pain.

  ‘This,’ said Tobias Undercut, shoving the fake hammer with the gold band into Roger’s face. ‘Good shot, eh?’ He bent down and grabbed the scruff of Roger’s neck and hauled him to his feet. ‘Now move,’ he said, stuffing the haft of the hammer into his waistband.

  Roger stumbled forward. He could see Leatherhead Barnstorm desperately trying to hold off a whirlwind of ringing axe blows from Moss.

  The gorefiends carrying the sword reached the fighting dwarves.

  ‘Master!’

  ‘Sword!’

  Leatherhead screamed and took one hand off his battle-axe. He stretched his arm backwards, his podgy fingers wriggling frantically. ‘To me!’ he yelled to his servants, as Moss renewed his attack.

  Moss battered Leatherhead’s battle-axe to one side and stepped up to deliver a killer blow... just as the gorefiends placed the hilt of the Doomstone Sword into Leatherhead’s hand.

  ‘You have it, master!’ screeched one of the gorefiends.

  Moss, immediately immobilised, stopped fighting. He dropped his axes and stood, chest heaving, then slowly backed away with his head lowered.

  Leatherhead staggered, gasping. He tried to raise the sword but could barely hold the point off the ground.

  Behind Moss, Roger could see the others, surrounded by gorefiends.

  ‘I said move,’ said Tobias, pushing Roger in the back. He shoved him all the way up to the barrier.

  Leatherhead twisted round to look at him. ‘I’m – in – charge now,’ he wheezed, as Roger was made to climb over the barrier back on to the road.

  Moss caught Roger’s eye, and gave the slightest of nods. He mouthed one word: ‘Destroyer.’

  Roger nodded back. His head was sore and he thought his eye was swelling up but he felt strangely calm as he trudged over to join his companions. There was a crazy, dangerous idea forming in his mind. Lady Goodroom was holding her arm and Maddie was rubbing her leg; there were several burn marks on the road.

  ‘Are you all right, Roger?’ asked Lady Goodroom, looking up. ‘That swine could have killed you.’

  ‘Shut up!’ bellowed Tobias. ‘You two. Kneel!’

  Roger dropped to his knees beside Maddie.

  ‘That wee rat-face there,’ said Maddie, pointing at a grinning gorefiend, ‘kicked my leg. Look, it’s all scratched.’

  ‘I said, shut up.’ Tobias looked at Moss. ‘On your knees.’

  ‘No,’ answered Moss. ‘Not for you.’

  ‘Then I’ll make you,’ said Tobias, moving closer.

  ‘Silence!’ gasped Leatherhead Barnstorm. ‘I am going to kill him. No final prayers or goodbyes. He dies now!’

  ‘Do it, then,’ shouted Moss. ‘You cowardly spit-frog.’

  ‘With great pleasure,’ said Leatherhead, just managing to point the Doomstone Sword at Moss. ‘At last... I end you.’

  ‘I had the beating of you,’ said Moss, pulling his shoulders back defiantly. ‘You were only saved by the sword.’

  ‘I was playing with you,’ whined Leatherhead, swinging the sword back. ‘Letting you think you were winning.’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ said Roger. He was kneeling, but his voice rang out clearly. ‘You’re an ugly little twerp with a big sword and a bigger mouth.’

  The sword paused mid-swing.

  ‘Well spoken, Roger,’ chuckled Moss. ‘Your name-calling is admirable. He is an ugly little twerp.’

  ‘The worst in the world,’ said Maddie, grinning. ‘Twerpiest and ugliest I’ve ever seen.’

  Wullie came to at that moment, and raised his head off the ground. ‘Ugly wee b—’

  ‘Shu
t mouths!’ screamed Leatherhead, swinging the Doomstone Sword away from Moss and pointing it at Roger. ‘You dare speak again!’

  Roger raised his head, blinked his sore eye several times and looked at Leatherhead.

  ‘You’re the droppings from a cow’s bottom. You’ve got a face like a big pancake of poo. You’re like a warty toad who’s been hit on the face by a frying pan filled with ugly warts.’

  Leatherhead swung the sword over his shoulder and brought it whistling down towards Roger’s head.

  Using his hands and feet, Roger pushed himself back as hard as he could. The tip of the blade sliced past his face and cut deep into the tarmac. Now the Doomstone Sword’s blade was buried to its hilt in the road.

  Leatherhead gave it a tug, and it began to slide it out. At that moment, Roger stood up and pulled the hammer from his belt.

  Leatherhead grunted in surprise and pulled harder.

  With the blade almost free, Roger stepped forward and struck the Doomstone Sword with the hammer.

  There was a flash of blue light and a crackling, like ice breaking. The blade of the sword shattered.

  A great sigh went up from the assembled dwarves, followed by a general muttering, shuffling and clanking of weapons. Queen Gwri spoke quickly to the nearest dwarf soldier, who nodded and ran towards the ogres. She then walked forward and held up a restraining hand as Moss, grinning wickedly, moved towards Leatherhead.

  ‘Please wait,’ said the Queen. She smiled. ‘My beloved.’

  Leatherhead Barnstorm stared at the hilt of the broken sword clasped in his hands. ‘How did—?’ He looked at Tobias, who fumbled at his waist and pulled out the hammer with the gold band and held it up. ‘We have possession... you can’t...’

  ‘But look what I’ve got,’ said Roger, holding up the real hammer.

  Leatherhead looked from one hammer to another, back and forward for several moments. He shook his head and turned to the dwarves and ogres. ‘Wizards, replace the Indestructabubble!’ He held up the remains of the sword. ‘Death to the race of humans. Forward!’

  There was no movement from the dwarf army.

  ‘I speak,’ screamed Leatherhead, waving the sword hilt above his head. ‘See, I have the Doomstone Sword. Obey me.’

  ‘It has been rendered as useless as murfles on a porker’s backside,’ said Mossbelly MacFearsome. ‘No one will follow your path.’

  Leatherhead spluttered for a moment and then threw what was left of the sword at Moss.

  Moss ducked.

  ‘Desist!’ shouted Queen Gwri. ‘Moss, come to my side.’

  Moss hunched forward and began pawing the ground with his right foot. His fists were tightly clenched and he was growling.

  ‘Moss,’ said Queen Gwri in a quieter voice. ‘Come to my side. The treachery is rectified. Everything is now in place.’ She spoke louder. ‘My orders must be obeyed – for your own safety. Now, please!’

  Moss straightened slowly, then walked over to stand beside his Queen.

  Roger glanced at the dwarf army; there was something strange about them. They were standing or sitting in a very relaxed manner, some were talking quietly and some appeared to be singing or whistling without making any noise. They kept glancing up at the sky. Roger looked up too, but could see nothing unusual – just the dark clouds breaking and rays of sunshine beginning to shine through.

  Nonetheless, he slowly began backing away from Leatherhead until he reached Moss.

  ‘You –’ Queen Gwri pointed at Leatherhead – ‘have betrayed dwarves and ogres, dragons and humans. You have made creatures from dead humans. And you –’ she pointed at the butler – ‘have betrayed, stolen and tried to murder.’

  ‘Lies! Lies! False truth!’ Spittle flew from Leatherhead’s mouth as he jumped up and down, shaking with rage. The gorefiends were gathering around Leatherhead and Tobias in a protective circle. ‘I will not be robbed again! The Frog Gobbing—’

  Roger thought he heard a faint whistling noise. He looked up. This time, he could see something... The whistling was growing louder. Roger stared at the thing hurtling out of the sky. It looked like—

  ‘Look out!’ shrieked Roger.

  At the very last moment, almost at the second of impact, both Tobias and Leatherhead looked up.

  But it was too late.

  Wullie’s white van smashed down on Leatherhead Barnstorm, Tobias Undercut and the gorefiends. Then the van exploded.

  The impact of the explosion made Roger take several steps backwards. He raised his arms to ward off the heat blast.

  A solitary gorefiend walked out of the flames.

  ‘Ouch!’ it said as it pitched forward on to the carriageway. ‘I didn’t see that coming.’

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-six

  ‘Wizards,’ shouted Queen Gwri. ‘Make our departure invisible. Dwarves, return to your homes. Ogres, to your sleep.’

  ‘How long do we have to sleep now?’ rumbled the largest ogre.

  ‘One hundred and thirty-seven human years left,’ said Queen Gwri.

  ‘Hardly seems worth the bother,’ grumbled the ogre. ‘We’ll be up again in no time.’

  ‘Go,’ said Gwri. ‘It is short for you but long in the life of humans. Go. I will see you soon.’

  The ogres began to walk away. They stamped on the crash barrier, trampling it flat, and threw their tree-clubs into the fields. Dragons followed the ogres, circling in the sky above them.

  ‘Queen,’ shouted a dwarf wizard. ‘Humans coming!’ He pointed towards the burning football stadium where fire engines were arriving.

  ‘Dwarves!’ Gwri raised her voice. ‘Back to your underground homes.’

  The dwarf army turned and began to march up the hill. Wizards ran back and forth chanting and waving wands.

  ‘They’ll never get away in time,’ said Roger. ‘There’s too many!’

  But just as Roger spoke, the dwarf army began to disappear. Dwarf columns were walking into a shimmering hillside and vanishing. Within minutes, all the dwarves had completely melted away except for Queen Gwri, Moss and two dwarf soldiers holding the pieces of the broken Doomstone Sword.

  Queen Gwri stood in front of Lady Goodroom, Maddie and Wullie.

  ‘My good friend,’ said Queen Gwri to Lady Goodroom. ‘You are an excellent Witchwatcher. Your loyal service is appreciated and shall be rewarded.’ She dropped her voice. ‘We must redouble our efforts to bring about a reconciliation before time runs out.’

  Lady Goodroom smiled. ‘Of course. And glad to have been of service, your majesty.’ She leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘Would you really have made him King, by Royal dwarf law?’

  ‘Oh no,’ replied the Queen. ‘It is not in our law. Not possible. But he didn’t know that.’ She gave a small smile and spoke softly. ‘Not very bright, you know.’

  Lady Goodroom laughed. ‘Same time next month, tea and tipsycake?’

  Queen Gwri smiled and nodded. She turned to Maddie. ‘You will make a great Witchwatcher in the future time. You would also be a worthy dwarf, for you have many of the attributes: impetuosity, no regard for safety and a thirst for violence.’

  Maddie relaxed her grip on Wullie. ‘I enjoyed it, thank you,’ she said, giving a bad imitation of a curtsy. ‘Quite a lot.’

  Wullie slumped sideways and slipped out of Lady Goodroom’s grasp. He crashed to the ground and groaned loudly.

  As Lady Goodroom and Maddie tried to lift Wullie, the dwarf queen turned to Roger. ‘You are a noble human, Roger. You gave much to help Captain Moss. You’re brave, resourceful and cunning. You are a true warrior, and worthy of the title, Destroyer. Go home now. Return to your maternal one.’

  Roger smiled and gave a slight nod, but did not speak; he had a lump in his throat.

  ‘And you,’ said Queen Gwri to Wullie, who was just about up on his feet again. ‘Another noble human. I hear that you have a Wullie-wife and weans to supply with food and items of little c
onsequence. Go to them.’ She scooped up a handful of pebbles and held them out – gleaming gold – to Wullie.

  Lady Goodroom heaved Wullie upright.

  ‘No bother, your queenship,’ said Wullie, almost falling again, but still able somehow to take the gold from the dwarf queen and stuff it into a pocket.

  ‘Your ladyship.’ Moss thumped his right fist against his chest and bowed towards Lady Goodroom and Maddie, who were struggling hard to keep Wullie on his feet. ‘My pleasure to fight at your side, Witchwatcher, and you, young human female, Mad-one.’

  ‘Maddie,’ said Maddie, laughing. ‘My name is Maddie, but I’ll take Mad-one. That’s good, a joke coming from you. Next thing you’ll be buying yourself a tractor.’

  Moss growled and looked at Roger. He held out his hand.

  Roger, shyly, went to shake it.

  Moss slapped Roger’s hand away. ‘Hammer!’ he snapped.

  ‘Oh! Here it is...’ Roger pulled out the hammer and handed it to the dwarf. ‘One thing. When you came over the crash barrier... I thought you couldn’t attack the bearer of the Doomstone Sword?’

  ‘I wasn’t attacking him,’ said Moss. ‘I was jumping in the air. Landed on him by accident.’

  ‘Glad you did,’ said Roger.

  ‘Some day, though, if we are lucky,’ said Moss, ‘we may still have the chance to fall in battle together, perish as true warriors should, brothers in arms.’

  Roger laughed. ‘That’s nice. I’ll look forward to that.’ He bent down a little and looked into the dwarf’s eyes. ‘And I was going to dig you out – eventually.’

  Moss smiled, an enormous smile that lit up his torn, bleeding face. ‘Goodbye, plum,’ he said, holding out his hand again. ‘Let’s make a handband.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Roger. ‘Goodbye, prune.’ He shook the outstretched hand and smiled back.

  ‘You are a good companion.’ Moss looked serious. ‘But your insults could be improved. Being likened to a toad and a profusion of warts are great compliments to a dwarf.’ He let go of Roger’s hand and gave a very large and deliberate wink.

  Roger, still smiling, winked back and then yelped with pain as it was his swollen eye he had used.