by P. G. Thomas
Logan cut her off, “Well, first take some enjoyment that a female force now pulls my strings the way I pulled yours. I feel like a damn puppet. I am sure before we find a way home that Sister will adopt the name Lauren once she gets to know you better. Second, if they back you into a corner, just unleash your inner Mother. I still think Eric has a few big aces up his armored fitted sleeves, and when we get back to the mine, we can see if Zack can make any sense of this. I also think it’s time you started to talk to Ryan, forgive him. It’s been so long, and you shunning him, it still hurts him I think. Maybe back at school, back in town, you two could keep your distance. But let’s face it, here the five of us need to hang pretty close together. Making him an outcast, it just makes everybody uncomfortable.”
“Six, you forgot John,” Lauren reminded her brother.
“We really need to ask Zack why he is able to make more sense than John. Crazy world.”
“I just have this feeling of impending doom, like I just woke up, and realized that I forgot to study for a science exam.”
Logan’s reply was quick, “Hey do not use the S word here. This place doesn’t seem to have any of that shit, I sort of like it. John may not, but I do.”
“When we get back to the mine, we need to start making plans to head south. I have a feeling it will be like trying to push a thread through a brick wall.”
“Well in that case, they picked the right person to be their Earth Daughter. Because you are so stubborn, that brick wall really doesn’t stand a chance. I think the thread that you are trying to push through it, is really primer cord. And when they try to deny my sister, I know it will produce explosive results. They don’t know it yet, but in this game of rock-scissors-paper, they are paper and you are rock, you will smash them.”
“I thought paper beat rock?”
“That doesn’t make any sense, how can paper beat a rock. You’re tired, go get some sleep.”
Lauren did not try to explain the game to her brother, just smiled as she headed to her bedroll, but the image of a huge black-clad army, smothering her, that image invaded her dreams.
*******
As they continued their travels the next day, Lauren spent the morning explaining rock-scissors-paper to Logan, and around noon, he finally started to understand. Lauren repeated it one more time, “Scissors triumphs over the paper because it can cut the paper. It doesn’t beat the paper as it triumphs over it. Rock triumphs over scissors because it can smash them. Yes, I know, smash and beat sound like the same thing, but beat and triumph are not the same thing. Rock triumphs over scissors because it can smash them. Paper triumphs over rock because it can smother it. Do you understand now?”
“That doesn’t make any sense, a rock can’t beat paper?”
“A rock can beat a paper, but it can’t triumph over it.”
Logan thought about it for a few minutes, “I will have to ask Zack about it.” He then thought about last night, where this conversation actually began, or so he was told, “Well in that case you are scissors, you’ll shred them.”
She pushed Logan away, “Get away from me, you moron. When I am done with your—”
Logan cut her off, “Yes, when you are done with my half of the brain I would like it back.” He then crawled up beside Gingaar to see if she could explain the game to him.
Lauren chuckled to herself. He has to be adopted. In the distance, she could start to see the mountain tops of the central range start to peak their heads over the flat horizon, and welcomed the view with equal amounts of relief and dread.
*******
Ryan, Eric, and John were sitting in the dining hall, having just finished the first meal of the day, and were discussing what they could do to kill the boredom. Their conversation came to a quick end, when they heard the Ironhouse brothers arguing in the grand entrance hall, and went to investigate.
Bor looked furious, “No doubt! Sure you are?”
Hakk repeated his words, “Pony missing. Saddle and all. Stable door, open it is.”
Bor slapped the mountain wall, “Iron and Ore. Forge Slag. Gor, stay here you will, should he return. Hakk, ponies four, saddle. Aaro, Fen, and Fodu. Armor, axes now. Hakk, last to leave. Countryside, search we must.”
As the three boys stood back, Hakk raced down to the stables. Bor, Aaro, Fen, and Fodu went to their rooms to fetch their armor and weapons.
John went over to Gor, “What happened?”
“Pappy, Master Weapon Smith. His mind, lately wanders it does. Today went with it he did.”
Eric had a fondness for the little crusty old man, “Can we help?”
“Friend Eric, dangers outside, many there be. Brothers, this task suited best for. Wait here, best it is.”
Twenty minutes later, the four dwarves came clattering down the stairs in their metal armor, axes with blades almost half their size resting on their shoulders. As they headed down the stairs, Hakk came running up, headed to his room to retrieve his armor and join the search.
*******
The Master Weapon Smith had risen early that morning, saddling up his pony before heading out alone. “New fabric, merchant should have. Dress Fodu will make, wife happy she will be.”
It was about two hours into the day, when the Master Weapon Smith stopped his pony on an open section of the road, and looked at the rising suns to the east. Suns, quickly they set, dark soon it will be. For last meal, late I will be. He then dug his heels into the pony, picked up his pace as he headed south, away from the mine.
*******
IT sat perched on the rocky ledge, sniffing the breeze. Wrong. Something wrong. Danger. Climb. Where wrong? Not good.
*******
The four Ironhouse brothers fanned out as they left the stables, but the sun had burnt all of the dew from the grass. They could not spot any tracks of their father’s pony, and were apprehensive about the possible outcomes. “Direction none would Pappy give. Pony east or south, wander it would, “Fen, Fodu. East.” Bor and Aaro then headed south cursing under their breath,
*******
From above, IT spotted the Master Weapon Smith, cursed. Stupid old man. Bad Men. Too far. Too late.
*******
The Master Weapon Smith scanned the surrounding countryside, could not understand why the mountains were so close, “Road to village, did I miss? Directions, young lads, help they will.”
*******
As Aaro and Bor crested the long hill, in the distance they saw their father approaching the black-clad soldiers. And when they saw him pulled from his mount, they dug their heels into the ponies. Racing to the rescue, they watched the horrified scene play out before them. Then a white frost bear exploded out of the trees, ripping into the soldiers who were assaulting their father, and they pushed their ponies even harder. The action was too intense, the speed of the ponies too great, neither brother could understand what was happening. The bear positioned itself between their father and the soldiers, protecting the motionless dwarf. Huge claws flexed from its massive paws, ripped through metal and skin, severed muscles and veins alike. The bear roared, exposing huge snow-white canine teeth, which clamped down onto the fearful soldiers. When it roared next, white teeth no longer visible, a thick red liquid now coated them. Aaro and Bor pushed their ponies harder, their Pappy on the ground had not moved since they had crested the hill, the white frost beast, still terrorized the dark figures. They were still a hundred yards away, when the frost bear picked up the last soldier, claws punctured skin, found lungs, and extinguished his scream.
The massive frost bear roared as Aaro and Bor raced towards their father. The beast turned to face the motionless dwarf on the ground. IT too late. IT tried. Not good enough.
Bor screamed so loud, birds for miles took flight. The frost beast looked up, as metal clad, battle enraged, axe waving dwarves raced down towards him. As the distance narrowed, the white frost beast, now mostly red, turned, slowly headed into the forest, leaving a trail of blood-soaked leaves where it passed.
Bor and Aaro pulled their ponies to a hard stop, almost throwing the enraged dwarves to the ground. Aaro jumped off, went to his father’s side, Bor, eyes filled with vengeance, followed the blood trail into the forest. He returned twenty minutes later, vengeance unsatisfied, to find Aaro kneeling beside the motionless body, his brother’s tears spoke the words that Aaro could not utter. Bor knelt down beside his breathless father, wanted to curse him, and his forge baked brain, wanted vengeance.
It took a few minutes, but Aaro finally spoke, “Frost beast not Pappy did kill. Black-clad sword, end his life it did.”
“Frost beast. Why protect Pappy?”
“Brother, strange this is, answers, none I have.”
Bor stood, wandered to where the bodies of the black-clad soldiers were scattered, kicked each one, hoping that one still breathed, would be a target for his anger. The ground was red, red as the rage in Bor’s eyes, but none would rise to his battle challenges that he screamed at them. Bor returned to Aaro, helped to gently place their father on the distraught pony. They walked in silence up the hill, each holding one of the reigns of the pony with their father on it, their mounts, obediently following. With heavy hearts, they took to the saddle, and started the silent journey to the mine. When they came to the section where the east and south roads met, Aaro turned to the Ironhouse Mine, to take his father home. Bor headed east, to look for his brothers, to deliver the news they would not want to hear.
It was past noon when Gor saw the two ponies crest the hill, only one rider sitting upright in the saddle. As he rushed down to the stable entrance, John, Ryan, and Eric fell in behind him. He pushed open the stable door, saw Aaro, saw the look on his face, and screamed. Aaro dismounted his pony in the field, led both into the stable, the Master Weapon Smith was returning home for the last time, the body draped over the second pony, lifeless, looked wrong. Aaro went over to his father, cut the straps that held his feet tied to the stirrups, and went to the other side, cut the straps that bound his hands. He slowly pulled his father off the pony, cradled him in his arms, and took him to a nearby table. Like a punctured bellows, the Master Weapon Smith was broken, and Walward Ironhouse was no more.
Aaro, with his back to the group, his eyes wet with dwarf tears started, “Tracks none to follow, brothers split up we did. Bor and I south we rode. Hillcrest, spot Pappy we do, black-clad soldiers, with him there are. Pony stupid, wanders fast it did. Far away we were, chance none to act.” Aaro paused, “Odd next it does be, question me not. Frost bear huge, from forest comes. Bear white, black-clad battle it does. Before we arrive, frost beast gone, black-clad no more, Pappy…” It was a simple word, four letters, yet Aaro could not say it, dead. He slammed his axe into the stone floor, the dwarven edge strong, stone cracked, accepted the unspent rage of the Master Apprentice. Aaro could not face his brother, did not know what to say. He headed over to a different table, stripped off the heavier sections of armor, threw them at the wall, screamed. When he was down to the padded armor, he headed to the exit, “Forge, start I will,” and then left the stables.
Gor, tried his best to hold back the tears, but as his brother exited the mine, Gor’s tears came forth. He went to his father, saw the gaping sword wound, screamed. Gor had retrieved his axe from the kitchen while they had waited for his father to return, in case there was danger. Gor placed his axe in the stone floor with the same anger as Aaro, screamed again.
Ryan, John, and Eric just looked at each other, not sure of what they should do, tears forming, choked with sadness, unable to speak.
Eric realized something had to be said, approached Gor, “Your father was a great man. Is there anything we can do?”
Gor did not turn to meet Eric’s gaze, “Back, bring him?”
“Gor, if I could I would. I can’t”
“Brother Eric, know this I do. Still….”
Eric stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Gor, “What happens now?”
Gor pushed Eric’s arm off him, “Tradition. Aaro forge does fire bring. Pappy and forge, together they will be.” Gor was always the most considerate of the Ironhouse brothers, but today was different, “Alone, leave me now.”
Eric realized there was nothing he could do or say, and re-joined John and Ryan. They wandered out of the stable entrance into the grassy field. “What did Gor mean when he said Aaro was lighting the forge John?”
“I think they are going to cremate their father.”
The three boys waited outside of the stables, saw the silent four dwarves ride back. They watched as one by one, each brother went up to their father’s lifeless body on the table. Four more axes, rage unsatisfied, were buried into the rock floor of the stables. Aaro returned an hour later, went to his father, gently picked him up from the table, and headed out the back door. John, Eric, and Ryan started to follow, but Bor just held up his hand, they were not welcome.
Chapter 25
The next day, three suns rose high into the sky. Deep in the mine, six dwarf sons shrouded themselves in the dark. John, Eric, and Ryan were still confused, and distressed at what had happened the previous day, still not certain of what they should do.
Zack wandered into the silent dining room, no food to greet him, confused at his three friends sitting around the table, their expressions sorrowful, “Dudes, what’s happening? Where is the grub?”
“Something happened yesterday,” stated Eric, “The Master Weapon Smith, he wandered off and was killed. His sons cremated him yesterday.”
Zack turned around, headed into the kitchen, returning with a large pitcher of ale and four mugs, “Funerals suck.”
John could not believe what he was seeing, “How can you drink at this time of the day, especially with what we just told you?”
“I do my best lamenting, when drinking something that has been fermenting.” Zack set the tray down and pulled up a chair, “So what happened?”
The detached emotionless void that Zack displayed was beginning to annoy Ryan, “You need to be more respectful when the brothers show themselves, otherwise they might just kick your ass buddy.”
John added, “Their father wandered off yesterday, ran into some black-clad soldiers, the soldiers killed him.”
“That’s a crappy way for Pappy to go. When’s the funeral?”
John just shook his head, “They cremated him yesterday.”
Zack took a drink of his cold ale, “Lit up one more time, I always wanted to go that way.”
“Zack, they were really upset yesterday.” Eric tried to warn him, “If you talk to them this way, I don’t think you will like what happens to you.”
“Lost two parents already, been there, done that.”
Eric tried to get through to Zack, “Listen, they were really upset. You better be careful what you say to them.”
“Well, maybe they are the ones that should have been more careful, made sure that their father couldn’t walk farther than they could see.”
“That’s cold Zack,” John could not believe his ears.
“Actually, it is my beer that is cold. Me, I’m more lukewarm. I feel for the little dudes. I may not have written the book about loss and disappointment, but I have had it read to me so many times, it is simply a fairy tale that does not end well for me. Yeah, death sucks. Murdered in cold blood, it sucks even more. But if you think there is something that you can say, that will make them feel better, lessen the anguish they feel, well you’re wrong. Pretty sure I have heard every stupid line that somebody can say to try to make ‘themselves’ feel better, that they have met some sort of social obligation. Besides, aren’t you overlooking something?”
Eric didn’t know if he should feel sorry for Zack, or smack him, “What have we forgotten?”
“Old Dude was killed by black-clad soldiers. How much longer before they start knocking on our door here, wanting to spoil our little party?” Zack drank in silence, as the others realized that their serene peace at Ironhouse was most likely going to end soon, and not in a good way.
At some point in the morning, the four boys went into the kitchen like a pack of mice, routed through the cupboards, looking for crumbs to satisfy their hunger. They waited in the dining hall for several hours, hoping one of the Ironhouse brothers would end his mourning, and let them know what they could do to help. But after several hours of waiting, Zack grabbed a fresh pitcher of ale, headed to the terrace that overlooked the mountain valley, and the others followed, as did the uneasy feeling of the unknown.
The suns were high in the sky, when Eric spotted Mirtza’s wagon enter the valley, and all but Zack rushed down to the stables to greet their returning friends. As Eric pushed open the stable door, Mirtza led his wagon into the stables, followed by the elves on their stags.
Alron noticed the missing dwarfs, “Where does brothers Ironhouse be?”
Eric closed his eyes, bowed his head, “Their father wandered off, ran into some black-clad soldiers who killed him. They cremated him the other day.”
Lauren and Gingaar gasped in horror, as Alron jumped off his stag, “Son of a wood sylph. Earth Daughter, does I presume that south does by thine direction?”
“I think so?”
Alron shook his head. He needed the Earth Daughter to believe, to be decisive, “Other directions canst be chosen if thou does desire?”
“I know Alron. I know there is nothing to the north. Threats occupy the east, and we cannot go west as there are no passes through these mountains this far north. So yes, south we will be going.”
“Thank thou Earth Daughter. I does go to find brothers Ironhouse, and we shalt meet in dining hall and exchange stories shortly.”