Tranquil Fury

by P. G. Thomas

  “Sword tall?”

  “Close he be, but taller I think.”

  “Brother, what means this?”

  Bor closed Aaro’s door as he left, “That answer, many wish to know.”

  *******

  Alron tried to let them sleep in as late as possible, but Bor was anxious, “Within the hour, welcome breakfast ready will be. If late they be, then hungry they also will be. My brothers you know well. Many things they do well, wait not be one.” Bor went down to the cavalry barracks, banged on the door, and entered the room. In a loud, deep voice, he proclaimed, “Suns be up, so should you. Friends new wait on you. Best it be, if that wait be short!” He walked around the room handing out pails and towels, and kicking the beds with bodies still asleep in them. True dwarf hospitality would dictate flipping the beds over, but Alron insisted he go easy on them. Bor pointed to the back door, “Water running there you will find. Presentable yourselves make. Scruffy lads, my Mammy’s razor find I did. If beards you are not sprouting, smooth you should be.”

  Much to Zack’s relief, it was not one large communal shower, but individual stalls, and he went to one of the farthest. They were unsure of what to do with the buckets, until they got into the showers, and that was when they saw the stone plug about four feet high on the far wall, with a spiral pattern of smaller holes just above it. When one pulled on the stone plug, water shot straight out of the holes and arced out, falling about three feet from the wall. John had no problems using the shower, and was one of the first ones done. It took the others longer, because they had to keep filling their buckets to wash their hair, or rinse off. Eric stood alone in the shower for several minutes, watching the water come out at waist height, ‘Son of a motherless goat!’ They all knew it was Eric, and could well imagine what he was going through. As he continued to clean up, the others came back out into the main dormitory.

  Bor was finishing laying out fresh clothes for them, “These be midlander clothes left behind by guest past. Tight they may be, but smell they do not.” Mirtza had brought in one of his bags, and carefully got out a fresh set of clothes when nobody was looking.

  Eric finally finished showering and shaving, and had several nicks on his face, never having used a straight razor before. He saw everybody dressed in the elfin clothing, “You guys clean up good,” then walked over to where he had slept on the floor, and only found his old clothes, “What about me?”

  Bor walked over to Eric, “You, up there! Down here look. My festival best retrieve I will, but silly you will look. If known coming you were, a frost beast slain we could. With notice none, preparations the same we made. Iron and Ore, big you are. Your scent be strong, though Mammy’s pretty water, lessen it did. Smell they do, but presentable they are. But little one, understand something. In mountain range, only one thing be large enough to cloak you.”

  “What is that Bor?”

  “Mountain shadow. In this range, your size nothing be found.” When all were ready, Bor led them through a maze of tunnels to a large dining hall. A huge low table displayed their breakfast, and standing in front of it was a group of elves and dwarves.

  Alron was the first to step forward, “Please may I introduce thou to mine men, Thou does remember Panry Moonshadow, Cethail Highbreeze, Erust Huntinghawk, Babartin and Careel Dawnfalcon. I am also pleased to introduce thine hosts. Aaro, Bor, Fen, Fodu, Gor, Hakk, and their father, Master Weapon Smith Ironhouse. Last but not least, I does present thou to Gingaar Huntinghawk and Earth Mother.” The deer like ears on the last two made it perfectly clear that they were elves.

  Alron continued, “Dwarf and Elf, I does introduce thine new friends; Mirtza, Lauren, her brother Logan, Eric, Ryan, Zack, and last, John.” Weapon Smith Ironhouse’s mood changed immediately at the sight of Eric. He was old, and spending so many hours around the forges had made him crusty. He had seen too much that he did not like over the years, and it weighed heavily on his heart, however, the vision of Eric seemed to reset his disposition, as he smiled, stood taller, as though some of his youth had returned to him.

  The deep dwarf baritone voice of Bor made a booming proclamation, “Food be hot, rejoice, celebrate Ironhouse style. Tradition states it does, guests be first. My brothers hungry, so quick you should be.”

  Lauren turned to Bor, “Could you please help me decide, it all looks so good, but it is also strange to me.”

  Her friends followed her down the table as Bor named each dish quickly, and tried to describe the taste. There were buns and breads with an assortment of spreads and jams. There were items that looked like pancakes, scrambled eggs, home fries, and such. Some tasted as they expected, while others, did not. They avoided the pickled meats, goats’ eyes, anything with the word tongue in it, and the really stinky cheeses. And Zack thought that it was righteous that the breakfast meal should include beer.

  John felt odd in the assembled group, as he was used to looking up at everybody, Lauren causing him the least amount of neck strain. Here the dwarves were about four feet tall, and the elves around four and a half in total. He was standing in a room where he could see over almost everybody’s head, unless he went to go to school with them, and this was new to him.

  The dwarves were dressed in fine dyed buckskin shirts and pants. The elves had on pastel-colored woven garments, except for the Earth Mother and Gingaar, who both wore floral dresses that touched the ground. The Earth Mother while intrigued by Lauren, wished to get a better look at the strange staff, but waited so she would not arouse suspicion. After Lauren served herself, she went straight to Alron, who re-introduced her to the elf males. When the Earth Mother was sure that Lauren was distracted, she turned her gaze towards the staff—only to find it had disappeared. Perplexed, she could not even remember seeing the girl set it down anywhere, so she walked over and introduced herself.

  Most of the morning’s activities involved meeting new faces and remembering distinguishing traits, to help remember the names. Aaro Ironhouse was the eldest son, the Weapon Smith apprentice. He was four feet tall and muscular, and unlike the other dwarves, he had a short beard, which he explained in several conversations, that if he did not keep it short, the forge would ensure that he maintained the proper length.

  Bor was the second oldest, and the tallest, almost as tall as an elf. His beard was long, going down to his belt. But every few inches, he had tied a band around it, to create a long thick beard rope. There was a military air to him, and scars. His hands and forearms had many small and large injuries that had healed long ago. So much visible trauma was bound to raise questions, but he insisted on keeping the stories short, for he would need more time to do the them justice.

  Fen was the third born. Though not the tallest, he was certainly the largest. One of his primary tasks was to work the forge bellows, and as such, his arms and legs were massive and seemed to burst from his clothes. Fen was also odd, in that both his chin and scalp were bald, and looked out of place, both from his size and hairless features from the other dwarves.

  Fodu was a goldsmith. His beard was almost as long as Bor’s, but was divided and tied behind his neck, exposing a wonderful gold pendent, in the shape of a dwarf axe on a fine gold chain.

  Gor was the cook, and just as his Pappy ruled the forges, his domain was the kitchen. He did not have a full beard. Instead, he had large mutton-chop sideburns that covered most of his cheeks, explaining a beard got in the way of his cooking. He checked with the guests to see which dishes they had selected, and those that they did not like.

  Hakk was the youngest of the six brothers, used to be the captain of the cavalry. Considered young for such a position, but his skills of fighting on war ponies were second to none. When the cavalry had left so many years ago, he felt it his duty to go with them, however, tradition outweighed duty, and he stayed alongside his Pappy.

  The elves were harder to tell apart, as they were all the same height, give or take a few inches, hair and eyes were both jet-black. John noticed the one subtle difference: all w
ore belts, but each belt-buckle was different, except for Babartin and Careel Dawnfalcons, whose buckles were the same. After inquiring, Alron demonstrated how each buckle represented the various family crests, but Zack would later suggest jerseys with numbers on the back, would make it easier to tell them apart.

  At one point during the event, Logan walked over to John, “What did Alron mean when he called the elves his mine men? Do they work here in the Ironhouse Mine?”

  John shook his head, “No, from the way he used it, I think ‘mine’ in elf, means ‘my’ in English. So what he said was, ‘Please may I introduce thou to mine men’, he actually said, ‘Please may I introduce you to my men’, so no, the elves do not work in the mine.”

  “Then what is with all of the knots he keeps talking about?”

  “I think elves only have one word for a negative. He is not saying knot, spelt k n o t, he is saying naught, spelt n a u g h t. I think for the elves, it means several things, like no, never, and not, spelt n o t, maybe more.”

  Logan shook his head, “So if you had a rope, and they did not want you to tie a knot in it, would they say do not tie a knot, or do knot tie a not, or… forget it. I never wanted to learn a second language. I already have enough problems with the one I know.”

  John set down his plate, “There is something really odd about what is happening with the language. If what Mirtza said is true, and the elves are one of the oldest races, some of their words are connecting with old English Saxon roots to the words we know. Like when they say thine, it means yours. And when you hear thou, it means you.”

  Logan shook his head, “I am going to need a cheat sheet.”

  John continued, “The weird one that throws me off is ‘does.’ It seems to have multiple meanings as well; do, did, and does. Maybe more?”

  “So does means does?”

  John nodded, “And do and did.”

  “Big cheat sheet.”

  “And canst means can.”

  Logan started to walk away.

  John continued, “Shalt means shall.”

  Logan started walking away faster, maybe I can have them tattooed on my arm?

  “Hath can mean have or has...” John continued, but Logan was beyond the sound of his voice.

  It was about two hours later when Bor went to the center of the group, “A story I do smell, friends new have to tell. With blessing from father, the great hall open we will. Their stories fresh, waken the hall they shall. First, rooms new, show you we will.” The Earth Mother watched them leave the dining hall, Lauren with her staff in hand, the odd reappearance perplexing her even more. Gingaar and Bor led them out into a large antechamber, the walls adorned with huge floor to ceiling murals depicting dwarves in battle, and then up a flight of stairs.

  At the top, Bor took them down a short hall, “Rooms you may choose, accommodate your size they should.” They opened the doors to the guest rooms, and each one was similar, except for the wall colors. There were huge carved stone bed frames with feather-stuffed mattresses, a chest of drawers and a table and chair, and each had its own washroom with tub, or shower. As well, each room had a window about four feet tall, and twelve inches wide with wooden shutters. Lauren claimed the first room with a tub and shower, and nobody was going to argue it away from her.

  Bor also said, looking at Eric, “Here you will enjoy better. Bath water flows from ceiling, not wall. These be guest quarters. Well known it is, guests our same size or likes not all share. Reasonable size, employed has been, to increase your pleasure. End of the hall, gathering room for all.”

  Eric stepped forward, “Thank you for your hospitality, but I have one question, if I may?” Bor nodded. Eric continued, “I understand why these rooms are this size, but all of the other rooms, and halls in this place are so big, and yet you guys are, well, so short.”

  Bor looked up at him with pride, “Little one, lack size we may, but trust me, everything dwarf does, dwarf does large.”

  Gingaar finished making the beds and refreshing the rooms, and on her way out, she stopped by Lauren, “Earth Mother does wish to meet with thou in person, and talk. Would thou be acceptable to this?”

  “I would enjoy that very much,” Lauren replied.

  “I shalt come back for thou in two hours.”

  After they left, Mirtza asked everybody down to their meeting room, and when they had all gathered, Eric turned to John, “Can you make any sense of this?”

  John, thinking back to the hill they stood on when Mirtza was approaching, pulled a quarter out of his pocket. “Heads, yes. Tails, no.” Before anybody could say anything, he flipped the quarter into the air. All eyes watched it spin upwards, and then fall towards the floor, where it landed on its edge in a crack. John shook his head in disbelief, “Odds of that happening twice are over a billion to one.” As he picked up the coin, he summarized what he knew, “Worm hole opened, brought us here, to where the lands are populated by elves and dwarfs. And oh yeah, there is magic as well. What’s not to understand?” What the hell is happening?

  Mirtza coughed, “Tonight they want us, more specifically you six, to tell your story of what has happened. Now I have never been around dwarves or elves, and all that I know is from books, classes and other students. One thing that is certain, dwarves love stories. Tales, sagas, epics—the longer, the better. A student, who had spent some time with them, spoke of a dwarven poem about an axe. It took three days to recite the entire poem, a week if you decided to sleep at night.” Mirtza added, “So we should probably talk about what, and how you are going to say it tonight. I am not certain of their history, culture, or beliefs. Even though we have known about them for several hundred years, contact has been infrequent. They find a way to mark their lands, making it clear that we should not trespass. There have been incidents over the years, but no major battles that I know of. Also, I have never heard of dwarves and elves living together in a dwarf mine, let alone welcoming so many outsiders with such grace.” Mirtza went quiet for a minute, “Before we figure that out, I have one favor. You are well aware that I am enrolled in a school of magic, and have seen some of the enchanted items that I borrowed, to aid me in my travels. The dwarves and elves are, well, they are, how would you say, cautious of anybody displaying such talents. They are from the ‘old-world’ and I am, for argument's sake, from the ‘new-world,’ and these two worlds have not found a way to get along at this time. So if we could selectively omit those details, I would greatly appreciate it.” After working on their story for a couple of hours, Gingaar arrived for Lauren, and after she left the room, Mirtza turned to the group. “Also, we have seen some peculiar actions from Lauren. We should avoid telling them any of that.”

  “Why should we do that? Maybe there is something important that they should know about,” said Eric.

  “I highly suspect that the elfin Earth Mother is already intrigued by Lauren, as the elves will have advised her about what happened at the healing well. If there is something going on between Lauren and Mother, the Earth Mother will untangle that riddle, and I really do not wish to get into the middle of that one. If she comes and asks you any questions, then answer her. But as for the story tonight, we should only talk about old Lauren, not new Lauren.”

  *******

  Gingaar led Lauren to a flat terrace that overlooked the foothills and mountains, where the Earth Mother was sitting at a table with a pot of tea. Gingaar poured them both a cup and then left. The Earth Mother looked at her for several minutes, “Well child, we hath been waiting for thou. Tell me thine story young one.”

  Lauren looked at the Earth Mother, “What do you mean you have been waiting for us?”

  “First, tell me thine story.”

  Lauren talked about that school day, the accident, finding herself stranded, Mirtza showing up and so forth. The story ended with the arrival at the Ironhouse Mine. She omitted the parts of the covered forest, the riders, and the strange happenings that had been occurring to her along the way.

  T
he Earth Mother smiled at her, “Now, does tell me thine good stuff.”

  “What do you mean,” asked Lauren?

  “When Alron met thou, he does watch as thou does defend against a stronger opponent, kill as well. He was sure thou would dispatch second, but help he does, and thou does know of our healing well.” She leaned forward, “May I see thine staff?” Lauren had been holding it the whole time, as it had become her security blanket, and she passed it over to the Earth Mother, who examined it from end to end, “What does thou know of this?”

  “Nothing, it is just a stick I found.”

  The Earth Mother pointed to one of the three intertwined trees, “This does be Ironwood. Straight and tall it should grow. Naught saw, axe, or fire can harm it. Trees as small as seedlings picked naught canst they be. Yet thou does possess, how canst this be?”

  “The ground was dry where I found it, maybe it was dead?”

  “If dead it does be, sword it would naught stop. Nor attackers kill. Alive it does be, I does feel it,” and the Earth Mother passed the staff back to her.

  Nervously, Lauren stated, “I feel a little tired. I would like to take a nap,” then got up and left with her staff in hand.

  Gingaar escorted her back to her room, and then returned to the Earth Mother, and sat down at the table. “These six, does they be those who thou does wait for?”

  “Yes, but expect this I does naught. Wait, welcome Mother does advise. But naught once does Mother say why. Something is up, what it does be, I does naught know. Her staff, does thou see?”

  Gingaar nodded, “One does be Ironwood?”

  The Earth Mother sounded frustrated, “Ironwood. Eighty years I does serve before Mother does grant me an Ironwood staff. Yet in weeks of two, young Lauren does naught hath one staff of power, but three. Second staff does be Sagewood, knowledge of Mother. Earth Mother first, granted such as staff, ten generations past. Back then, Mother does be young, does need help. Sagewood does help First to find places special, gifted ones and more. Mothers gift to help guide and educate. Last does be Corewood, power of Mother. All three live, their strength does be great.” Visibly shaken by the words Gingaar heard, she continued to listen to the Earth Mother. “Mother does grant daughter of First a Corewood staff. Problems were many. Forests dying, seasons short, then long. Wet then dry. Creatures foul, attacking and such. Help does Mother need with issues many. Second, she does much to make things right. I does still remember stories many, passed from mother to daughter ten generations past.”