Ascalla's Daughter

by M. C. Elam

  “If we go the wrong way, we’ll spend the day doubling back. We should separate. I’ll walk one way and you the other.”

  “Does it matter? If I find a narrow place, you’d have to come back anyway,” said Terill. “Separating isn’t a solution.”

  “What if there is no narrow place?” Hawk said.

  “Has to be a way across, Hawk. Maybe climb the wall to get past it.”

  “More rock climbing? Let’s look for a narrows first.”

  “A way across be closer than that, me lads.”

  Hawk looked around.

  “Did you hear that?” he said.

  “Aye,” said Terill. “I heard, but I don’t see anyone.”

  “Are you blind then? I be right here. Look down you oafish wonders.”

  The little man tugged at the leg of Terill’s trail leathers. One booted foot gave Hawk a sound kick.

  “Ignorant you be, the both of you. Never a lookout for others. Many’s the time I be obliged to dodge the foot falls of such as you.”

  Hawk knelt beside the little fellow. “Right you are, friend. How can I make amends?” He sensed a little charm might go a long way with the man. “My father told me stories about courageous dwarven folk. Honored to meet you. I am Hawk and he is Terill.”

  The dwarf raised an eyebrow. “Thinking to get on the good side of me, are you? Well, you could do worse. I be called Roland.”

  Hawk put out his hand, but Roland stood back and leveled him with a critical eye. The dwarf’s examination gave Hawk a fair amount of time to take measure of him as well. A curly beard covered his face and draped over his folded arms. A sparse growth of hair around his head matched the sooty gray color. He had a large bulbous nose and thick brows that were the same color as his beard. Accept for the fringe of hair that started just above his ears and circled his head, Roland was bald. He stood less than a meter high and had big hands that looked out of place at the end of his short arms. Despite a gruff demeanor, Hawk noted a hint of merriment that glittered in his blue eyes.

  “You trespass in my cavern.”

  “Yours? The caves belong to Shadall. No man owns them,” said Terill.

  “Insolent puppy, what do you know of the caves? Cavern be mine by the hand of Shadall. I harvest the jewels for her.”

  Hawk shot a warning look at Terill to keep silent. They were in for it now. One thing he learned from his father was that dwarves were talkers. Any excuse that gave them the opportunity was good enough, and Terill provided it when he challenged Roland’s right to the cave. The little man paced back and forth between them. Hawk sat cross-legged resting his elbows on his knees.

  “Sit down, Terill. Perhaps we can persuade Roland to tell us how he came to collect jewels for Shadall.”

  “If you be of a mind, I can see my way to it,” said Roland.

  “We’d be honored,” said Terill.

  He sat down. Clearly, Hawk knew how to handle the dwarf, but when Roland began the tale with his birth, he doubted they would cross the lava fissure today. While Hawk looked as calm as a summer day, his stomach complained, and his parched throat called for water. He looked at Roland and tried to take his mind off his stomach.

  “My pa had three sons,” Roland began. “One meant for the mines to gather ore and carry it to the surface, my brother, Digger. One meant to clean the ore and hone fine weapons, my brother, Dingle. Then there be me. Ma gave me the name of Roland, and Pa called it a curse. No boy, he said, with a pretty name, be strong enough to work the iron. I grew up frail as a spring lamb, and when I be no more than fifteen, they sent me off to be a holy man. But I had no calling and run off to the forest to be a wood cutter. After a time, from heaving the axe, I weren’t so frail and thought to return. But no use come of that. Weren’t no room for me at the forge, and I be ignorant of the iron. I wandered down to the sea and cast my lot with some fishermen; a band of brothers, they be.”

  “My people?” asked Terill.

  “They be other fisher people, lads, on the far shores of Shadall. I took up space with them and learned the trade fair enough for my meager needs. Good friends I made among them, true as any a man could know, or so I thought. Ah, the pints we shared when the catch be done, and the stories we told. Lass or two even smiled at old Roland. I could warble a ballad sweet as you please.” He looked away across the cave and seemed lost in the past.

  “That sounds like a fine life, Roland,” Hawk encouraged the dwarf to continue.

  “Aye, was fine, but the day we took to the seas against the odds, everything changed. Sky was red as yonder lava pit when we set out, but the sea be still as glass. Made good time through the reef and cast our nets thinking to make an early catch and have done before the storm came at us. But Shadall turned testy and pulled us into a bed so heavy with kelp the nets got all snared and tangled. We took turns diving down to cut the kelp and free them. No use, no use at all. Then the sky went mean and shot down fire into the sea. Waves rose high around us, but kelp kept us tight, held by the nets. We took on water and bailed, but the sea come quicker. Before she could take us under, we cut the nets. Shadall turned us for home. Saved, we all rejoiced until it come from the depths. Some said they heard it plain, calling for a life to save the rest, a life to feed its hunger.”

  “What did you see?” asked Terill.

  “It be black like night and glistened all over. A mouth big as a new moon on the horizon and the whites of its eyes, they weren’t white at all. They gleamed like fire burned behind them. I be turned toward it when the brothers grabbed me from behind and threw me into the water. No blood to them is how I figure they called it. Sunk like a rock, too scared to swim, you see. But Shadall be partial to the helpless, and she carried me back to the surface. Then I saw that band of brothers. The black fish opened its mouth and took them in all at once. I heard them call my name. ‘Roland, Roland,’ they said, and I knew to the end I be the one they wanted for the fish.

  “By the gods,” said Terill.

  “Aye, lad, by the gods. The boat, the sail, and the brothers, took into that great fish, while I be bobbing around in the sea. Left alone, left to drown. Shadall made a bargain with me to harvest her jewels in the cave and, in exchange for my life, take them across the lava to the other side.”

  “Then there is a way across,” said Hawk.

  “Aye, there be a way. I’ll show you for a price.”

  “We have no coin, sir. You may look in the packs we carry for proof of my word,” Terill swept his arm toward them.

  “Coin buys nothing here. The jewels are many. If you carry them for me, I will lead you to the other side.”

  With the deal firm, Roland led them along the lava flow to the jewel stash. Bags and bags of spectacular gems lay piled near an arched stone bridge that extended across the flow.

  “The jewels—magnificent,” said Hawk.

  “Aye, the finest anywhere. A word of warning, take a single stone, and I be missing it as sure as you see me standing here. I’ll heave you into the lava and not look back to watch you cook.”

  “We are not thieves, Roland. Your jewels are safe.”

  Hawk and Terill crossed the stone bridge three times and piled the jewels where Roland indicated. By the time they made the final trip, sweat ran from their bodies as though they had plunged into water. The outside of the bags grew slippery in their arms. Terill made a misstep, and the jewels spilled on the stone bridge. Hawk stopped to help him gather them, and they finished the crossing, glad to hand the last bag to Roland.

  Roland checked each bag, ran his hands through the sparkling jewels, dropped them back, and then hefted the bags. More than once, he lifted a bag to check the weight of its contents. When he turned toward Hawk and Terill, his face was grim.

  “A stone be missing, Shadall’s most radiant diamond. One of you be a thief. You didn’t heed my warning.”

  Roland started across the cave toward them.

  “We didn’t steal anything, Roland,” said Terill. Alarm was evident i
n his voice.

  “Thought you could fool me, I’m guessing. Roland can’t be fooled, lads. One of you lifted Shadall’s diamond clean out of the bag. Hand it over, and I might spare you.”

  “Search us if you want. We did not take the stone,” said Hawk.

  “No point in that. You cough it up or die in the lava. Shadall will have it back either way.”

  “Maybe,” said Hawk. “Maybe it fell back into the lava when we dropped the bag on the bridge. You saw that happen. You saw the jewels spill.”

  Roland stopped, considering. “Mayhap that be the way of it lads, but Shadall’s diamond be gone, and you had it last.”

  “Then take me. Throw me into the lava,” said Terill. “Hawk had nothing to do with losing the diamond. It’s my fault.”

  Hawk grabbed his arm. “No, if one of us dies, we both die. Both of us guarded the stones. Both of us took the risk. I’ll not let you die alone, my friend.”

  Terill drew his dagger. “We’ll not go down without a fight.”

  Full, rich laughter rolled out of Roland’s throat. He extended his fist, relaxed his fingers, and opened his hand. Cupped in his palm, Shadall’s diamond caught the light and sparkled.

  “You had it all the time, you old beggar,” shouted Terill.

  “Aye, true enough. Since before you started across the stone bridge, she be in my care.”

  “But why?”

  “A test of loyalty,” said Roland. “Blood ties and the vow you made when you pledged to quest here be strong.”

  “I think I understand,” said Hawk.

  Roland stroked his whiskers. “Take these.” He handed each of them a small piece of hardened lava. “A memento to remember the day. Now, I be thinking you might have a bit of interest in a meal and a tankard to wash her down?”

  Nearly drooling at the idea of food, Terill took a knee in front of Roland and put out his hand. The dwarf gave it a sound shake.

  “You look a bit peaked, boys. Good feed be just the thing.”

  Roland provided a hearty fish stew, thick bread to sop up the juices, and generous refills of spring water to wash it down. When Hawk and Terill finished, he tapped a keg and drew tankards of ale all around. Hawk had dozens of questions about how food and drink appeared in the barren cavern, but the ale made him sleepy. Terill dozed nearby, and much too tired to worry about where it came from, they slept.

  ***

  “Wake up, Terill.” Hawk shook his shoulder. “Roland’s gone. Everything’s gone.”

  Terill sat up and rubbed his eyes. “What do you mean everything’s gone?”

  “Look around. The lava rift is gone. Not even a crack down there.”

  “Down where?” Terill stood; walked to the place Hawk pointed, and looked across the massive cavern. “We are on a ledge.”

  Hawk nodded. “Aye, brother, we are.”

  “I don’t remember climbing up here.”

  “That’s because we didn’t. We went to sleep a couple of hundred feet from the stone bridge.”

  “I thought we did, too. And I remember Roland sat close to us on a big rock. God’s! Hawk look.” He pointed at the cavern floor.

  “It’s the rock, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, the rock, and Roland’s sitting on top, still.”

  “But he’s part of the formation, all stone. Did we dream it?” asked Hawk.

  “I’d give it over to dreams, but my belly’s full.”

  “Maybe your gut’s still asleep and not feeling hunger yet. Wait! I know—the lava stones.”

  “What?”

  “Roland gave us each a lava stone.” He searched through his pack and found his nestled at the bottom. “Hurry, see if you have one, too.”

  “I’ve got it.” Terill held it out. “No dream, I guess.”

  “No dream.”

  Terill tossed his stone across the ledge. It bounced against the cavern wall and rolled near the edge.

  “What are you doing?” Hawk retrieved the lava stone and held it out to him.

  “It’s only a chunk of lava, Hawk, worthless.”

  “Nothing here is what it seems, remember? Look at Roland. Better hang on to it.”

  Hawk found an arrow scratched into the surface of the ledge and, never questioned that it pointed the way to the next cavern. Terill fell in beside him, and they walked along in silence. When the path narrowed, Hawk stopped to take measure of their position. The opening to the next cavern must be somewhere ahead, but he didn’t see anything.

  “I hope we’re going the right way.”

  “I saw the arrow, too. Has to be the right way.”

  Hawk grinned. “That, my friend, depends upon who placed the arrow and why. I feel as though we have come nearly full circle and still no passage into the next cavern.”

  “Second thoughts. Hawk?”

  “Aye.”

  “Might be out of sight past that outcropping just ahead of us.”

  The ledge grew narrower until they were hanging from it and searching for handholds to bring them around the projection. Terill led. Time after time, he found little cupped indentations big enough to accommodate his fingers, and Hawk mimicked his movement. More than an hour later, Hawk rounded the last obstacle. Terill grabbed his leather tunic and pulled him to safety. Before he had a chance to speak, Terill put one finger to his lips indicating silence and then pointed ahead.

  The next cavern was in plain view, but in front of the opening, gnawing on the remains of what appeared to be a haunch of beef, with juice running down its chin and over its rolling belly, sprawled a giant. It wiped its mouth on the back of its hand and made a contented belch. Overhead, sunlight streamed through an opening in the cavern ceiling. The giant stuck one meaty fist through the hole.

  “It’s looking for something,” said Hawk. His voice was a whisper. He hunkered low on the narrow ledge beside Terill, and the two of them watched in silence.

  A grunting roar escaped the giant. The search ended, and it dragged a struggling steer through the hole. The animal bawled, a frightful sound of pure terror that was like nothing Hawk had ever heard. The giant pulled off the head with his bare hands and began to eat.

  “By the gods! What demon do we face,” said Terill.

  “Quiet. It will hear us.”

  “Aye.”

  They watched the giant with a hideous fascination as it ate, discarded the mutilated carcass, and stretched out in front of the opening to the cavern. Hawk and Terill squatted on the ledge, and tried to remain inconspicuous while they waited for it to fall asleep. Their knees screamed anguished warnings about being too long in one position until they gave in and sought a more comfortable posture.

  “We must get past it,” said Hawk.

  “Aye, but how?”

  “We can try once it sleeps.”

  “That would be now, brother. I hear it snoring.”

  “Let’s wait a few minutes more. Be sure.”

  Terill started along the ledge. “Sooner or later we have to crawl over it, Hawk. Better when it is sluggish with a full gut.”

  They crept along the ledge and eased toward the giant. Its back rested against the opening. Terill began to climb up its shoulder to a place where he thought he saw the dark portal into the next cavern. As though he was no more than a bothersome fly, the giant brushed at him once or twice with its hand and settled into a deeper sleep. Terill held tight to its hide jerkin. When its breathing grew steady, he reached for a fistful of hair on the nape of its neck and used it like a rope to inch closer to the opening. If he could reach the place where the ball of the giants shoulder rested against its ear lobe, he intended to climb up to the opening.

  But then Terill slipped. The steady hands that sought the most meager hold in a rock facade lost their grip, and he tumbled across the giants head and came to rest on the ledge in front of Hawk. The giant grumbled, sat up, and rubbed the place where Terill’s boot had scraped away a sliver of skin that now hung like a bloody banner just below its ear lobe. It scented the air
and turned around. Never had Hawk felt such fear. Never had the urge to run been stronger. He held his breath. Terill lay frozen at his feet. They waited, one minute, two, an hour, and then the giant yawned a terrible wide-mouthed yawn and went back to sleep.

  Hawk and Terill backed away to the place where they first came around the rocky protrusion.

  “What now?” asked Terill.

  “The shrinking potion, but how do we get him to swallow it?” said Hawk.

  “Pour it into his mouth while he sleeps?”

  “Aye, we can try that, but what if it doesn’t shrink him small enough? Something isn’t right. Even if we manage to shrink him, why would we need the restore potion?”

  “You’re right. Shrinking him can’t be the answer, and the feign death potion makes no sense either,” said Terill.

  “Then the only thing we can do is wait for him to move.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  Hawk shook his head. “The river rocks?”

  “What good are they against that thing?”

  “Terill, I don’t think it can see very well. When it woke up, it scented the air.”

  “Aye, and it looked straight at us without notice.”

  Hawk sighed. Frustrated and tired of facing repeated obstacles, he wanted to go home. He wanted Evangeline and the clean meadow air of Ascalla. He’d had quite enough of salt and sand and sea, enough of dismal caverns that stank of sulfur and iron and human sweat, his sweat. Given the chance he’d run from the cavern, leave Terill to face that disgusting colossus. He put his head in his hands, surprised to find he fought tears. What a pathetic coward he was. Abandon Terill? Not a chance, but the idea festered despite his resolve to block it.

  “A thought is not a deed.”

  Hawk jumped. He looked at Terill. “Did you say something?”

  “No, did you?”

  “Not until just then.”

  “Funny, I thought I heard you say something, too,” said Terill.

  Hawk shrugged. “We’ve been in here too long.”

  “I agree. I have an idea. Give me your bag of stones,” said Terill. He got to his feet.

  “What are you going to do?” He handed over his bag of river stones and watched Terill tuck them into his knap sack