by P. G. Thomas
“Dwarf is strong, and we do not seek Mother’s guidance,” continued Fodu. “Help she needs, help we will, but Mother and dwarf are not close. We felt the Curse, but it had no effect on us. So strong it was that Mother went quiet, and with no guidance, the forests dead, the Earth Mothers wandered away.”
Fen nodded in agreement, “Midlander and elf embrace Mother the same, and without her, they were lost. After years of six, a dark day greeted all again. An Earth Bond, but strange and strong it was.” He looked at Lauren, “Your last Earth Bond at battle end, stronger than that.”
“What do you mean by strange?” asked John.
“It told all; Mother worship no longer. Who to worship, I do not remember, as we have forgotten the name. Midlander or elf will know. To dwarf, it had no meaning, but Mother since then has been quiet.”
“With the second Curse the rains stopped, but to go forth, we had no reason,” added Fodu.
John was rubbing his eyes, “You said Aaro and Bor took Tranquil Fury and the armor to the Bright Coast? How did that happen?”
“For many years, the clans each staged the play,” began Fen. “Each year it was better, longer, but still more is added each day. After forty years, you story is still not complete, but no longer do the crowds gather, and only dwarf watches. For years many, the great halls were all filled, as elf and midlander all wanted to see, now none. When the story was great, riders came. Their request was odd, claiming special awards and a presentation had been arranged. They asked Ironhouse to come, bringing the armor and sword. My brothers, filled with pride, accepted the invitation. Honor they sought, but they did not return. Aaro, Bor, wives, and children all went.”
Fodu shook his head, “Many times Ironhouse followed, searching for all, finding none, and in the Bright Coast, the presentation was unknown to any as well.”
“Why is it that I now see legends?” asked Fen.
Ryan cast a glance at the empty mantle, “We were at home, a portal opened somehow—”
“Someone here stole our three daughters,” interrupted Lauren, reaching for Ryan’s hand.
“Earth Mother and the Unnamed united?” asked Fen.
She nodded, “Mirtza found their stroller, and he was trying to fix the machine. There was an electrical storm here and back home. Something happened, it went dark, and then we saw Mirtza.”
Both dwarves gave her a perplexed look.
“Machine, it sort of means magic where we come from.” John began to explain the rest, including Mirtza’s travel, imprisonment and escape. “A year ago he returned to Gayne’s house where he found the stroller, but it had only disappeared from our world that day, and it looks like it has been here for a very long time. I think my machine, I mean my magic, brought us back, and it also kidnapped Lauren’s children. While we are here by accident, our first concern is finding her three daughters.”
“Mountains should hold mysteries, as hidden riches are secrets for dwarf to solve. Earth Mother, I am sad for you, and Ironhouse will help again. While I do desire better stories, I cannot control what happens.” Fen walked over to the door, opened it, and commanded all back to work to empty the halls. He turned to the small group, “You will rest for now, and I shall take you to your rooms now. This night we will celebrate your return and make plans tomorrow.” Then he led them to the guest quarters. As they thanked both, several dwarves with wide eyes passed them in the hall carrying casks of ales and mugs, which they took to the meeting room. Fen pointed to the end of the hall, “If you need, use the far room for talk. Here you are guests, and our clan will leave you alone, but if you wander elsewhere, we cannot hold them back. Before the feast, I will return,” and then both left.
When Lauren opened the first door, the rooms were as she remembered. There was a huge carved stone bed frame with a feather-stuffed mattress, covered by thick blankets. A finely crafted chest of drawers stood against one wall, and a table with chairs sat under a window measuring four feet tall, twelve inches wide, with wooden shutters. Through the only door in the room, she could see the finely crafted tub and washing facilities. The room and furniture may have been crafted by dwarves, but they could never use them, as it was designed for those who were much taller. However, the one complaint they never wanted to hear was that their generosity came up short, so when tall friends visited, they always felt at home.
As Lauren lay down in their bed, Ryan went to the washroom and prepared her a bath. After coaxing her into it, he wandered down to the meeting room where he found the other four. “She’s ready to explode. When we’re alone, the pain in her eyes, her lips trembling so bad she can’t even form words. I don’t know what to…”
Not knowing what to say, Eric changed the topic, “Who would have wanted to present Ironhouse with an award? And why?”
“My guess? Somebody from Darkpaye,” replied John, “and they baited the invitation with dwarf pride. Aaro and Bor wanted the world to thank Ironhouse for what they had done. With so many people wanting to see the play, maybe it went to their heads. It’s hard to say.” Then he opened the terrace door and wandered outside. The panoramic view of the snow-capped mountains filled his vision, and the fresh, crisp, clean air filled his lungs. His mind, able to formulate lengthy equations, to create plans to make things right, was now filled with dread. Following him outside, Ryan and Logan took a seat at the table.
Logan was looking into his mug of ale, “If we can’t find Sister, if Mother is quiet, the Earth Mothers are gone, Eric is without his toys, and you don’t have your magic. What’re we going to do?”
“When Mirtza lit that candle, well, my worst dreams were realized,” began John. “Then I thought, ‘hey, we’ve been here before, and we know what we need to do.’ I somehow feel like we were invited to a football game, but we brought hockey equipment because everything has changed. The first time here, nobody knew what was going on, well, not us anyways, but there was a purpose, and we were part of it. Right now, there’s nothing, except for a bag full of magic items. Look at—What—Where—” Stammering, John looked into his empty mug and then heaved it off the terrace edge, “At least gravity still works.”
Ryan slammed his mug down, “Damn it, John, you figured out this place before, and you’ll effing do it again. The rules and players might have changed, but I don’t care. My daughters are here, and we need to find them, so give that brilliant mind of yours a shake, and find the pieces to solve this damn puzzle.” He rotated his head, cracked his neck, and then went back inside. Just as the door was about to close, Steve walked out carrying several mugs, and Eric followed with a small keg of ale.
“You look like you just spelled something wrong at the Nationals,” Steve said.
“I wish it were that simple. Everything has changed, and from the sounds of it, we showed up forty years after the game started.”
“That’s not true,” began Eric. “The sky rock fell before you were born. The same with the sword, and there was that weird northern town that the dwarves found. Crap has always happened here before we arrived, just like this time. I remember sitting with a scared little kid at the forest edge, telling him I was counting on him to get us home. I didn’t think you would do it, but you did. We need that scared little kid back because he thinks differently. A long time ago, we were sitting in the backyard in Alron, and Tranquil Fury was talking. He said something like ‘Eric speaks highly of John. Calls you smart. Prove it.’ I need you to be that ‘John’ again. We all need him back! Prove it to us one more time.”
“Eric, it’s not that simple...”
“It never is, but if you give up the game before you step on the field, you have already written your final score on the board. It’s a new game, new players, new everything.”
“When we arrived here, I thought I knew everything, but I don’t,” replied John. “Everyplace we look for answers, all we find are more questions. More damn questions than the last time.”
“It might not be my place but stop.” Steve set down his mug, “I
know that nobody understands, maybe it’s the cop in me, but you said we had one more place to visit, Acorn or something?”
“Alron,” advised Logan.
“Sorry, Alron. You said you knew more people there. Let’s wait until we finish this magic bus ride, and see if we can find some of those answers.”
“Magic bus ride?” asked Logan.
“It’s a song by The Who. It’s about taking drugs and going on a magical journey.”
“Who?”
“Yes, The Who.”
Logan picked up his mug, “But who sang it?”
Steve just shook his head.
“Do you want me to guess who?”
“No, they were a Canadian band that sang American Woman.”
“Who?”
“I told you, they sang Magic Bus Ride.”
As Steve tried to explain the band names to Logan, the rest wandered back inside for some rest, or to clean up before the feast announcement would ring out.
Chapter 9
Old friends reuniting, it should have been reason enough for a celebration. The dwarven clan was amazed to see the five legends who entered the great hall, but they soon realized something was wrong. Before the meal began, Fen stood, his thick, deep voice filling the hall, sounding like a tunnel cave-in at the bottom of a mine-shaft. “Ironhouse is honored this night, as the Champion, Bastard, Unchosen, Earth Mother, and the Unnamed visit us. A new friend they also arrived, one called Steve, but they do not bring joy with them. The first visit they were invited, but by whom, the bards still argue. This time their arrival is an accident, and Earth Mother is sorrow chased. Her children stolen, they now search for them. This night, we welcome home clan members John and Eric. Earth Mother Ironhouse, her mate the Unnamed, her brother the Bastard, legends all. Glad fills our hearts, theirs not. Stories this night will be unspoken, as both parties must share the celebration. Tomorrow we will talk with our lost friends, asking how we can help. This night you may look upon legend, but while in body they visit, they are thought distracted.” Fen then clapped his hands, “Celebration of Sorrows, let it begin.” For the first time in dwarf history, silence filled the great hall even though every chair was occupied. This night, laughs would not echo from the walls, nor would tears of joy find the floor, and instead, all consumed the meal in quiet.
Lauren hated the deafening silence in the hall. With so many wanting to meet her, to talk to her, it should be different. However, the images of Sam, Hope, and Brooke, she was unable to shake, and the meal was only half done when she excused herself, knowing that all eyes were on her, and Ryan quickly followed.
Eric leaned over to Fen, but before he could say anything, the dwarf spoke, “Brother, all now understand. Now will judge, and they will not speak of this.”
The meal ended earlier than it should have, and as the dwarves slowly filed out of the room, all glanced at the remaining three at the head table. Fen turned to the legends, “Heavy is your burden, and early you will leave?” John and Eric both nodded. Fen sighed, “This night we will talk. Go to your meeting room, and shortly Fodu and I will re-meet with you.”
Steve sat at the table for several minutes, his mind consumed with the vision of the great hall filled with so many dwarves, who had shown the five legends the quiet respect. After draining the last of his mug, he proceeded to follow them up to the meeting room. Eric, Logan, John, and Ryan were sitting around the middle table but still quiet.
The dwarf hosts had replaced the mugs and ale kegs from earlier in the day. Steve walked over and poured himself a drink. “That’s quite a fan club you guys have here,” but nobody responded.
Several minutes later, the two brothers walked into the quiet room.
“The wrong must be great when our best ale remains untouched,” advised Fen.
Fodu walked over to the keg, poured seven mugs, handed them out, and raised his. “Victory we toast. All of you, Ironhouse you are, so act like it you should.”
Only Steve, Fen, and Fodu had their mugs raised. Fen looked first to Steve, “He is not dwarf, but you should act like him!” Then he turned to John, “At the great battle you toasted with us, Earth Mother, and you will again.”
He glared back, “Don’t call me that! You will call me John.”
“You were given many names: Chief Council, Supreme Ruler of Magic, Tester of Gravity, but only one name wakens the Unchosen. Just now, in your eyes for the first time, I saw a light as if it was forge born. That look for years dwarf bards tried to describe it, but they could not. My brothers told the stories of the Chief Council on the ledge, so loud that you were heard above the thunder from Father. Mad with victory, spelled if by Mother, but not, and John Ironhouse commanded all. Wrapped not in magic, his power was his mind. That was dwarf and this is beneath you. Act like a dwarf act or return the ring.”
John stood up, looked down at Fen, “It’s different this time.”
Fodu crushed the mug in his hand, causing beer and glass shards to explode, “Dig deeper brother—,”
Eric finished the sentence, “The best ore is found deep in the mountain.”
“Brother remembers,” replied a smiling Fen. “He is dwarf. John, what of you?”
“I haven’t given up, but on that ledge, there was an army in front of me. I finally could see an enemy, but right now, I don’t know what’s happening.”
Fodu filled another mug, “You should find the anguish source, but a fire in your eyes there should be. What plans does the Unchosen make?”
“We were going to Alron next to see if anybody there can tell us anything. From there, we’re going to take whatever we learn back to the Bright Coast.”
“That is better,” Fen turned to the door, “Enter.” As he returned to the table, three dwarves in full armor entered, carrying large axes over their shoulders. The first stepped forward who was tall for a dwarf, about five feet, thick, and almost as big as Fen when they first met. Lacking a beard, thick mutton chops in the shape of lightning bolts covered his cheeks. “You may not remember, but when we said goodbye, he was present. This is Gor, son of Bor.”
The second stepped forward, who was a few inches taller than four feet, but having the same intense strength as other dwarves. His cheeks were bare, but from the base of his jaw, a thick beard almost a foot long extended down. Fen looked to the group, “My son, Grax.”
Finally, the third stepped forward, taking off her helmet to expose deer ears and feminine features. She was the tallest, just over five feet, being slim and muscular at the same time. Fen announced her to the group, “Amber, daughter of Fodu.” When he pointed to the cask, the three new dwarves each filled a mug. Then he filled his own, raised it, and waited for the rest to do the same. With a look of dwarf pride, he called out, “IRONHOUSE!” His deep, thick voice echoing off of the walls. Everyone repeated the toast before draining their mugs. Fen turned to the group, “When you depart tomorrow, Ironhouse three will go with you. When you leave Alron, return here. Ironhouse will sit council, seeing if more help we can give.”
Ryan looked at the three dwarves, realizing that they were older than he was, but also that they were the children of their dwarf protectors. “Lauren may not like this.”
“It does not matter, as Ironhouse spoken,” advised Fen. “The protection of Ironhouse will follow you. Now sleep this night, as you now have new friends and will be safe.” Then the three dwarves followed Fen and Fodu as they all left the room.
“Lauren—taking three dwarves would be one thing, but taking their sons and daughters,” warned Ryan. “If it were Fen and Fodu, Lauren would probably agree, but taking their kids, she never will.”
Eric, John, and Logan nodded in agreement.
“They’re not exactly children,” but nobody acknowledged Steve’s observation.
John rubbed his eyes, “I know, and I don’t want to take them either, at least, not until we know what we’re up against. Let’s get up early and leave from the terrace. Once we visit Alron, we can return, and see if
we want to take them back to the Bright Coast, or where ever we go next.”
The five finished off the last of the keg, hoping the golden liquid would help bring quick sleep absent of dreams.
*******
When Ryan shook Lauren awake, darkness still filled the narrow window. Explaining what had happened the night before, he told her how Fen and Fodu had advised that three of their children would join the group, but they had decided to leave early without them. Agreeing immediately, she dressed, opened the door to the hall, and cursed under her breath. At the far ends, two dwarves slept blocking the exits with one sleeping in the middle.
Closing the door, she whispered to Ryan, “If we’re quiet, I think we can sneak everybody in here to open the portal.” Then she entered the corridor, crossed the hall, and pushed open the opposite door where John was getting dressed. Advising him of the situation, he followed her back.
“Father will not be happy, and he said you would try leave early. He said you should wait for breakfast.” The voice was soft, quiet, feminine.
A thick voice from the far end of the hall filled the corridor, “Bed or breakfast, your choice, as all will go.”
Opening his door in time to hear the last comment, Logan smiled, “Then its bean juice. Not much sense in going back to bed.” All three dwarves stood as Logan knocked on Steve and Eric’s doors, “They’re on to us, so get up.” After the Ironhouse cousins had escorted the six down to the dining room, the smell of the desired liquid greeted Logan.
Amber was sitting across from Lauren, “Earth Mother, I am to honored meet you.”
“I’m no longer an Earth Mother, and I don’t want you three to go with us.”
“Once the title is granted, only one can revoke it. She has been quiet, so you are still an Earth Mother. I am honored.”
“This isn’t some play with actors. It’s real, people die, and I don’t need your blood on my hands.”
“My father was one of them,” replied Gor. “He understood like we do. Your story was heard for so long, and the play seen by all. Our fathers explained to us, lore struck we must leave behind, and our mission is serious. It was made clear that will not find a written script and props will also be absent. Blood, if seen, will be real.”