The Eastern Dwarfs: Part One - The Red Fields

by deSouza, Leo

  “What says the scriptures?” King Frar asked.

  Rurur raised his hand one more time. “Herm… Excuse me your majesty but… I don’t think we are worthy of hearing this scholarly debate, especially when it comes to scriptures.”

  Olaf snorted. “I would agree with this.”

  “Maybe we should just ask them all we want and then dismiss them.” Thuor said looking at the king.

  But King Frar gave no answer, he was actually looking displeased. He stood in silence for some moments looking at Rurur and Olaf, which made them ashamed, then finally the spoke: “And why would ye not be worthy? Ye say ye saw many strange things, what is the problem about hearing scriptures about this? I say, ye stay here till I decide to dismiss ye. Let me decide who hears and who does not.”

  Olaf and Rurur just bowed their heads. One of the elders took a piece of parchment and spoke whilst looking at it. “The old records tell about those among the old fallen kings who can cast spells and curses. Once majestic and terrible kings, then slaves of a bigger will.” He said.

  “What about the dark language?” The King asked.

  The elder continued: “It has similarity with the old descriptions. But this is not something we can confirm, except if one of us comes to hear the rider for himself.”

  “Then there is not much that we can endorse now.” The King said.

  “Your Majesty, with all due respect… Even if these two ones have no better description of what they saw, and even if that we cannot confirm by the scriptures what all this is about, we still have no other guess to mind. There is no other report about such a sorcery, or about that kind of dark rider. Like it or not all the clues led to the same point, as the only register about such things are here.” The elder said raising the parchment in his hand.

  “Besides, your Majesty.” Thuor broke in turning to the King. “No scout reported about any intruder on our lands, from the great inland sea at the eastern men’s lands to the woods in the south. And we keep scouts at every corner of our kingdom, there is no report from our guard, neither from the other houses of our cousin dwarfs.”

  “What about the peasants?” King Frar asked. “Did they see anything? There are many folks who live on the fields, men who work with weeding and woman who collect fruits, those folks have sharp eyes and keen ears, they might have something to report.”

  “Nothing was reported, your majesty. But we did not meet the peasants yet. Might be a good idea to talk to them.” Thuor replied.

  “What is the statement of the wise ones?” The King asked.

  The elders whispered as they talked to each other, then finally one of them raised his hand. “We must deliberate.”

  “So it will be.” Spoke the King. “I give ye time to decide, and when your statement is ready, then we will come to a decision. Now for ye two… Wait for my call outside, and leave this matter to the wise ones.”

  Thuor came to Olaf and Rurur and asked them to come with him outside the room. They rose from the chairs, bowed in respect to the King and left the place, closing the door, there outside they could hear the elder ones talking. The two guards were still outside, watching.

  “Guess now the King really thinks we should not hear more about this, finally.” Rurur spoke.

  “Better it is, ye can imagine about how much boring stuff they will talk about, and I’m glad this is about to have an end, at least for us. I bet that soon they will call us again and tell us we can leave. One or two more questions and it’s done.” Olaf replied.

  But it took much longer than Olaf thought, the deliberation lasted for the entire morning and they had to stay there waiting for it to end. Sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall while waiting was not the main problem for the dwarfs, soon Rurur started complaining about being hungry, but captain Thuor stood there, standing still like an obelisk, and he did not allow Rurur to leave, not even for a moment to get some food and come back. At the end of the morning Rurur’s belly was making really loud noises when finally one of the elders opened the door and asked them to come inside again, there they stood to hear one more time. One of the elders spoke: “Many things have being said inside this room, many old names evoked, and lore has been heard. But not much could be concluded as the facts are dispersed and the voices that tell us are vague and dubious. So as we deliberated, my lord, due to the lack of information, and to all the mystery around this matter. We find it wise to learn more about this rider before taking any action.”

  “And how do ye think we should do this?” King Frar asked.

  “Talking to the peasants is a good start but there is someone else who can help us better. A wise old one who has long opted for exile, his beard grown grey and his wisdom vast. Besides, he can see far from where he lies, the White Tower on the Golden Peak. The old lore says there is nothing that can escape from his sight, as he lives above all the lands. If any intruder entered this reign, then he knows about it.” The elder spoke.

  The King squinted. “The old graybeard in the tower… Long has he left his dwelling alongside his folk, an eastern man he is, and he left the capital city of this people since before the old days of our ancestors… We don’t know if he is still there and even if he is, he dwells far to the south, it would take a long time to reach his tower by travel.”

  “He is there, my King. For we heard from the winds that one still watches the lands and sees the folks. He is still there.” One elder said.

  Then King Frar crossed his hands, he stood a long time looking at the void as if trying to conclude something, and when he finally spoke, his voice was severe and strong. “It is the advice of the elders, and we shall take it. Seems to be a good and reasonable choice. Sending someone there to consult the old man in his tower.”

  “Yes, my lord, it is at least a good place to start.” One of the elders said.

  “Master of arms and captain of the citadel’s guard, Thuor. Would you provide us any apt man to this task?” The King asked as he looked at Thuor.

  “A group of them, if necessary, my lord.” The captain replied.

  “Excellent.” The King continued. “Take someone else, and take these two too.”

  Thuor quickly looked at Rurur and Olaf and then back to the King, surprised.

  Olaf spoke nervously: “But… But my lord! We are not worthy of such task. Besides, what could we do? My arms are long ago crippled and my legs are short for long journeys, I will delay the whole enterprise!”

  Rurur raised his hand. “I would agree with him in this, we are not fit for…”

  “That’s enough.” The King broke in. “I have made my decision.”

  Rurur looked at Olaf, this one just shrugged.

  “Ye are the ones who saw the rider, so no one better than you to describe him, and to identify him in case of meeting him again. Ye go, that is it.” King Frar said.

  Thuor moved to the King’s front and bowed. “My lord, even though it much displeases me to contest a decision of yours. I think they are right, they are nothing but common folks, they do not have any experience in travelling, not to say about any possible danger on the road, what would they do, in case they meet a simple goblin, or even the Dark Rider and all his spells himself.”

  “They are going… And ye too.” The king said. “I’m sending ye, captain chief master of the arms, to lead this journey to the Golden Peak.”

  “But my lord! What about the citadel’s guard? There must be someone to be in charge.” Thuor argued.

  King Frar motioned as if ignoring him and spoke to all the audience. “And there will be, the King himself, as my arm is still strong enough to handle the hammer. I’ll take care of the stronghold by myself, the men are under my command, from now. And ye are temporarily removed from your post, to take a more important one.”

  The elders agreed with the King’s decision, Thuor himself discreetly nodded.

  “Now, captain, ye can prepare the journey together with the others, and do not forget to take one more, ye can choose this last
one by yourself. Anyone can be this last one, I advise to take a good tracker, and someone who can talk the language of men.” The King spoke.

  “A wise choice, my King.” One elder said.

  “Ye are all dismissed, prepare the journey and leave. But firstly let me put ye under the oath of silence, for ye shall not tell about anything ye heard here, not to spread rumors, not even a comment. Ye being subject now to punishment in case ye come to disobey my orders.” The king said in a severe voice.

  One more time Rurur, the captain and Olaf bowed in front of the sovereign. Thuor walked through the room and motioned to Rurur and Olaf as he passed by them, they left the room one more time. Outside they started walking down a large corridor as Rurur talked: “What is this about that the King chose us to such a task?”

  “If it is an order from him then we must take it and obey, that is all. For now and then, ye must understand that ye are under my rule.” Thuor replied.

  “And what does that involve besides walking and talking to peasants? It does not seem like something that needs someone so important like ye in charge, captain.” Rurur said quickening his pace to keep up with Thuor.

  “It involves situations of risk, when disobedience can result in death.” Thuor replied.

  “I quit!” Rurur exclaimed.

  “Quiet, Rurur. You heard the King. Besides, I’m quite sure that there is no real risk involved, captain says that just for the sake of precaution.” Olaf spoke.

  The group went out of the caves to the main stronghold courtyard, from there they walked to the archery range, an open field on one side of the main yard where guards practiced throwing axes and crossbow firing.

  “What are we doing here? I don’t think we can learn how to use crossbows that fast before the travel.” Rurur spoke.

  Thuor said nothing, he went to a small building and passed through the door entering it, there inside was a dwarf, sitting in one chair with his legs over a table as he smoked a pipe.

  “Torag.” Thuor greeted him.

  The dwarf put his feet on the ground and the pipe out from his mouth. “Captain Thuor.” He said, exhaling smoke.

  Thuor approached. “Ye are called to an immediate task.”

  “Oh am I? Captain. And what is this for?” Torag asked rising.

  “We are going to leave the Stronghold, and travel to the White Tower on the Golden Peak, among the southern mountains.” The captain replied.

  Torag frowned. “That is a quite uncommon task… Long journey it is. And who is requesting such a task?”

  “The king himself.” Thuor replied.

  Torag motioned his head and twisted his mouth. “Once there was the poor Torag resting in his peaceful place, then suddenly comes the captain asking him to join in a travel to the end of the World. Why is this so sudden? Not that I’m arguing with ye, captain.”

  “We can talk about this while we prepare to leave.” Thuor replied. “For now ye might want to know, that I came to ye looking for someone who can track and speak in the language of men and elves. Can ye still speak in these folks languages?”

  “Well… The folks in the east share a common language, that should be no problem for anyone.” Torag spoke.

  “We are counting on the possibility of meeting some of the most… Unknown folks.” Thuor replied.

  “For these ones the best language is a good and sharp axe, or a quick arrow, or even a dart. If ye know what I’m talking about.” Torag argued.

  “Not this time. This is a diplomatic committee.” Thuor said.

  Torag looked at Olaf and Rurur. “What about these ones? I know ye, Rurur, a good partner for drinking in the tavern. Can tell many stories; nothing to be trusted.”

  “They are the rest of the committee.” Thuor replied.

  “Well… At least we will have good company to talk. It is a long journey to the far southern mountains, I would say two months or so to get there, depending on the pace of these two.” Spoke Torag.

  Thuor went to a crossbow nearby, he took the weapon in his hands and started examining it, then turned to Rurur. “Ye go to the larder, talk to the keeper, ask her for as much provisions as possible to be carried on a ram’s saddle. Provisions for four dwarfs, all packed and ready to go by tomorrow. Tell her I’m the one requesting it under the King’s command. Then ye can go home and take your stuff, meet us at the main gate tomorrow morning.”

  Rurur nodded and left the place.

  “Now ye to the stalls.” Thuor spoke to Olaf. “Ask the keeper there for a good ram and a load saddle. And don’t let her give you the lame ram, after that ye can go home and take your stuff. Then meet us at the main gate too, at the same time.”

  Olaf motioned and turned back to the door, he left the room and went to the stalls that were nearby, just a while of walking. There he met the keeper, a dwarf woman in a leather clothing and heavy boots, as he entered the stalls he stepped on manure.

  “It has a good smell when it is fresh.” The dwarf woman said as she put a halter on a ram there.

  “Stinking manure and grass, rams are best baked.” Olaf replied.

  The dwarf woman smiled. “That depends on what they are for. Guess ye did not come here to find a good chop.”

  “No, I came in the name of master chief Thuor, he wants a good ram, for a journey, with a load saddle.”

  She finished putting the halter on the ram and put hands on hips looking at Olaf. “Well ye can have it, but what is this saddle for?”

  “To carry provisions, and stuff, like herm… An axe or two… And stuff for a journey, food and all.”

  The dwarf woman squinted. “Hum… The bigger one it will be.” She went to the back of the stalls as Olaf followed her, there she took a big saddle and threw it to him. “This one fits, for sure, it’s the biggest we have anyway. Can I ask where are ye going?”

  “Hunf… Nowhere that deserves attention. We are just going to talk with some peasants about… The harvest.”

  “Oh I see… As we dwarfs are not farmers, then deals with peasant men we need to do. At least to ensure grain for our bread. But I still think we could live well with just meat… Actually, some potatoes are always welcome. Are ye planning to go that far talking to peasants? I thought that just going nearby would be enough to find many of them, no need of a loaded saddle for a long travel.”

  “What about the ram? Captain asked for a good one, not the lame.”

  “He always warns about the lame.” She said as she came back to the place where they were previously. There she stared at some rams in stalls, and finally pointed at one. “This… Quick step, strong legs, a little stubborn, but obeys well when treated well.”

  “Well, then it is.” Olaf replied.

  Meanwhile Rurur was in the larder talking to its keeper, another dwarf woman.

  “…And this is the most ridiculous thing they spread out about dwarf woman, that we have beard! Why, by the skies would a dwarf woman have beard?” She asked.

  Rurur chuckled with his sluggish face. “Ye can be sure I would die a single dwarf if it was so.”

  She shook her head. “Provisions to fill a saddle ye say…”

  “That’s it…” Rurur replied as he nodded. “Wait… Two months of travelling to get there, two months to get back, I don’t believe a single saddle is enough for four dwarfs, this is odd.”

  “Maybe the provisions are only for the going.”

  “What about the regress? What will we eat… Oh my! By the beards of the kings!”

  “Yes, no weight for the return, without having too much to carry, load the bit that is left on your backs, on the way back, the poor drudge ram turns chop.”

  “Oh dear… That’s it. Anyway, may I ask ye to provide us some of the good meals left from yesterday’s banquet?”

  “Hum… Maybe there is something left. But let me insist, ye will need to find food along the road.”

  “Yes… Probably. But my task now is to get the best I can from the larder, and be sure I’m quite good at choosi
ng food.”

  They went to a small room and started gathering the provisions.

  The muddy road.

  In the morning of next day after the audience with the King, the four dwarfs were at the main gate of the RockFoot Fortress, ready to leave. Thuor alongside Torag, they were wearing some weapons and packs, the captain held his big Warhammer, Torag had his crossbow in hands and a hawk on his shoulder. Olaf came pulling the ram already loaded with all the provisions that Rurur and the keeper arranged on the saddle.

  “Provisions for a long journey, that is it.” Thuor said looking at the saddle.

  “Yes it is.” Rurur replied.

  The captain approached the ram and gently kicked his paws.

  “Not the lame one, chief.” Olaf spoke.

  Thuor motioned as he turned to the other ones. “All right. Ye will not see many stones under your feet for now. The road is muddy, and sometimes it gets bad when it rains.”

  “I’m still hoping to see at anytime the King himself coming here to say that he was wrong about sending us.” Rurur spoke.

  “Stop complaining, Rurur!” Olaf said with a harsh voice.

  Rurur snorted in disapproval. “How many of ye had problems last night trying to explain to your wives about a sudden journey that would take months. Through the fields, with no previous warning. All of sudden, just like this.”

  “Well… Ye’ve got a point here. Last night I had a serious talk with my lady.” Olaf spoke.

  “And what did she say?” Rurur asked.

  “Hunf… Nothing much. I… I actually felt it was as if she got pleased with the idea of me taking leave. She said it is good to refresh the mind.” Replied Olaf.

  “I think she was referring to her own mind. What about ye, Torag?” Rurur asked.

  “Ye can count me out of this, I have no wife.” Torag replied.

  “That is enough. Let’s take the road.” Thuor said.

  The group went walking outside the Fortress as the guard raised the main iron gate, the sound of a metal ratchet moving gave Rurur a strange sense that he was leaving his safe place and was about to launch himself into barren and unknown lands, Olaf felt the same although he did not show it. When they passed under the gatehouse, Rurur glanced back a last time and then ahead again, the gate was closed. On the outside they counted some paces until they left the stone pavement to step on the mud. As it was not rain season the ground was firm and dusty; Thuor led the group beside Torag, then came Olaf and at last Rurur pulling the ram by a rein, each dwarf held his own backpack. The group went walking until the point where the road made a curve beside a hill and then they could not see the fortress when looking back, it was autumn and the leaves on the trees were brown and started falling, trees large enough to provide shadow by noon for a group like them.