Bakkian Chronicles, Book I - The Prophecy

by Poole, Jeffrey

  “This way, master soldier.”

  Leading them farther up into the tunnel, Breslin launched into the finer aspects of the art of blacksmithing, describing the type of metals best used for armor and the best way to spot precious gems buried in rock. He had just started to describe the types of stone diamonds were typically found in when he paused, stopping before another nondescript section of tunnel wall. All present, including the captain, had been holding their breath, waiting for the dwarf to finish his last train of thought. No such luck. The dwarf had now turned to face his charges again.

  Rhenyon turned to look at the wall. He was still unable to spot any irregularities to indicate an opening of another tunnel. Breslin had been studying the human in charge.

  “Can ye see it, human? This tunnel is used frequently, so it is bigger than the last.”

  “Bigger?” Steve stepped up again, moving to the left, then right, as he tried valiantly to see the outlines of the entrance. Being the most direct route to the subterranean dwarven city, it was naturally disguised better than the others. “I don’t see anything this time.”

  “And ye will not,” Breslin explained, “until I open the door.”

  Stepping up to the wall, the dwarf started softly knocking at various points along the surface. Pausing every few moments he would then move several feet away and start tapping the wall all over again.

  “How the hell were we supposed to get in there?” Steve complained. “I mean, look at what he’s doing. You’re telling me that the instructions we should have been given instruct us to do exactly that? There’s no way!”

  The dwarf stopped his repetitive knocking and stared at Steve for several seconds before bursting out in loud guffaws. After much knee-slapping, Breslin moved to a completely different section of the wall and pushed. A large chunk of the wall slid smoothly out of place to reveal a well lit passageway behind. Light flooded into the tunnel to illuminate everyone’s faces, including Steve’s, who was scowling at the dwarf. Breslin wiped the last of the big, fat tears that were streaming from his face with his beard before finally apologizing to Steve.

  “I am sorry, lad, but I could not help myself. We do not get many visitors down here.”

  “I can see why,” Steve muttered under his breath.

  After everyone had moved into the larger tunnel, Breslin moved the stone door back into place and with a soft chink, the tunnel was sealed, cutting off all access from the other side.

  “You sure do take precautions about not being found,” Sarah commented. “Can I ask why?”

  “All dwarven tunnels used to be as open as ye saw with yer own eyes. Recent times have forced us to seal the direct routes into our city.”

  “Are you trying to keep someone out?”

  “Ye could say that.”

  “Could you not ask them to leave in peace?”

  “If we could, we would have, rest assured.”

  “Could ye not force them out?” Rhenyon asked.

  “Again, if we could, we would have.”

  “Well, could you –”

  “Forgive me lass, but it is not my place to say. There will be a time for yer questions later. Let us be off.”

  ****

  Three hours later they emerged into a cavern so immense that the far wall could not be seen, nor could they see the ceiling above them. The enormous cavern floor was several hundred feet below them as the tunnel had deposited them on an outcropping high up a subterranean mountain. It was at that moment that the first set of human eyes fell upon the previously unheard of dwarven city, Borahgg. The city itself was laid out in a perfect geometric circle, jutting up against an enormous black field to the west. Steve blinked. Black field? Squinting, he watched the field swaying from side to side. In fact, it appeared to be continually rolling, with the smaller folds coming closer to the city’s edge, getting smaller as it approached. Wait! It’s water! But that means… Steve’s gaze followed the outline of the lake as it increased in size and disappeared in the distance. All that was water? Holy cow! The city bordered one of the largest lakes he’s ever seen, and it was completely underground!

  Sarah was gazing at the water as well, having come to the realization of what she was looking at much faster than her husband. These people lived their whole lives underground without ever once observing the open sky! What was their source of light, anyway? Sarah looked around. Light just seemed to be everywhere. No source. Remarkable!

  “Will wonders never cease,” she breathed.

  Tearing her eyes away from the hypnotic effects of the black lake, Sarah turned her gaze towards the city. From this vantage point she was able to see that the vast majority of the houses appeared to have a simple, thatched roof. It looked like it would have blown off in the slightest wind. Then again, what did you expect, she asked herself, when you lived in an area devoid of any type of precipitation. All one would need is a covering for privacy.

  The dwellings were basic, rectangular in design. Yet they were larger than expected, with many having at least three chimneys. Were dwarven families large? Making a mental note to ask later, Sarah moved her gaze farther in, towards the center of the circular city. The houses started increasing in size as the stature of the occupant increased. Finally, near the center of the city, she could see large buildings set up in rows, facing each other. Hundreds of dwarves were moving about, all apparently having something to do.

  “How many dwarves call this home?” Sarah asked.

  “Perhaps a thousand.”

  “So where are we headed?”

  Breslin gestured to the center of the city, indicating several large stone structures.

  “Ye will find the Council there. But first,” he unslung his axe again, “we need to announce our presence.”

  Moving over to a small, blue circular stone set into the ground just outside the tunnel entrance, Breslin held his axe upside down, with the blunt point above the axe head resting directly over the stone. Crack! The dwarf had lifted the axe and let if fall, with the point coming into contact with the glowing blue stone. Crack! The second blow sounded like an M-80 had gone off. CRACK! The third blow to the stone had the impact of several sticks of dynamite, with the shock wave resonating well up into the city, no doubt bouncing off the far walls of the great cavern.

  Within moments hundreds of dwarves had appeared at the city’s edge, all staring up at the mouth of the tunnel they had just vacated. The sounds of muffled conversation reached their ears as numerous hands were pointed in their direction. Ten dwarves, in full armor much like Breslin’s, appeared before them. All had their axes in their hand and were staring hard at the humans, then, as one, all ten heads swiveled to glare at the dwarf who had led them into their midst.

  “Breslin! What have ye done? Why ‘ave ye brought humans here?”

  “They seek the Strathos. They have requested an audience with the Council.”

  Still skeptical, the guards motioned the silent humans to follow them.

  “Are you coming with us?” Steve asked.

  “Aye, as far as I am able.” Turning, the dwarf addressed the human soldiers. “Do not resist, and do not draw weapons. Ye are guests here. Do not abuse this honor.”

  Rhenyon nodded, turning to each of his men and repeating the order in case the soldiers needed to hear it from human lips instead of dwarven ones.

  Walking slowly throughout the city, Steve felt as though he was being paraded by all the curious dwarves as though he was a prized prisoner of war. Many of them, well, the vast majority, Steve corrected, looked as though they had just been working at a forge, which he guessed was probably accurate. Many wore thick, protective aprons which had layers of soot, pieces of chipped stone, and small curls of metal sticking out at various places. Many were still gripping hammers and files in their hands as they stared with unabashed curiosity at the newcomers.

  As they continued up the street Sarah leaned close to her husband.

  “Where are the women? I don’t see any. Do you thi
nk they might be someplace else?”

  Overhearing the question, Breslin increased his pace until he was walking alongside the peasant woman.

  “Why do ye ask that?” He looked up at the tall woman. “Ye could see just as many as I could. Dwarf women work just as hard as the men.”

  “I must have missed the women.”

  “That would be difficult, lass. They are hard to miss. They were wearing smocks.”

  Sarah’s eyes opened wide as she realized she had, in fact, seen the dwarf women. They were the ones wearing aprons? Oh, good lord! Didn’t they have beards?

  Noting the look of abject confusion on her face, Pheron started chuckling softly to himself. Rhenyon had also overhead and was smiling as well.

  By the time they finally reached the communal council chambers at the center of the city, word of their human guests had spread like wildfire. It was standing room only as their escorts pushed their way through to the head of the table. Nine elderly dwarves were all seated at the most beautiful table Sarah had laid eyes on. It appeared to be made of polished stone, but after nonchalantly running her hands over the smooth surface she could instantly tell that it wasn’t stone, but petrified wood, adorned with inlaid gold and silver that had been delicately woven into the natural fibers of the wood.

  One of the elders finally spoke, after an adequate time had elapsed for the human female to appreciate the expert craftsmanship of their revered table.

  “I bid ye welcome, humans. Judging by the message we received from yer king, I presume that the lot of ye seek an audience with the Strathos. May I enquire as to the nature of this meeting? Our most gifted blacksmith prefers his privacy, and as such, we generally do not disturb him.”

  From the back of the room they heard a loud, derisive snort.

  “Will ye please stop with the theatrics? They have come a long way to meet with the Strathos. Why, I cannot fathom.”

  The elder dwarf turned to address the corner of the room where the voice had originated.

  “We have a right to inquire why humans would seek contact with the Strathos. We would also appreciate silence for these proceedings.”

  “Father, will ye please stop this charade? Humans are our allies. See what they want of ye.”

  “Breslin, for once, be quiet, will ye?”

  Chapter 13 – Maelnar

  “You?” Steve was close to sputtering. “You’re Maelnar? You’re this ‘key maker’ that we’re supposed to find?” He angrily turned to Breslin, who was still scowling at his father. “Why didn’t you say you were his son?”

  “Ye did not ask, human.”

  All the dwarves were now laughing, clapping each other on the back. Apparently everyone in the room was in on the joke. Everyone but the humans, that is. Maelnar rose from his seat at the table to approach their guests.

  “Ye were sent out to find me? I suppose then that ye will tell me what all this fuss is about. Why does the human king seek me out?”

  “Is there someplace more private we can talk?” Rhenyon asked.

  “Aye, through there.” Maelnar pointed through an open doorway off the side of the chamber. Inside they found several cushions to which they each sat. Sarah sank blissfully down on her cushion, relieved to be off her aching feet. Noting the woman’s actions, and correctly judging them all to be in need of refreshment, Maelnar caught the eye of an underling. The young dwarf nodded, slipping quietly out of the chamber.

  Sitting down heavily on his cushion, the old dwarf began removing some of the ceremonial garb he had rushed to put on before their guests arrived. Most of it was solely for the purpose of impressing outsiders. Removing the three various, highly decorated robes he had been wearing, he tossed his staff aside, and systematically began pulling various implements off his belt.

  “Confounded things do nothing but weigh you down. At my age, I do not need any extra weight on my belt.” He patted his round belly. “If I want to increase my mass then I will indulge in more phedras at mealtimes.” Smiling at Sarah, he winked. “I have a fondness for them, lass.”

  Sarah stifled a giggle. This was the celebrated key maker? Maelnar was not what she was expecting. A wizened little dwarf barely able to move, yes. A spritely fellow with lively eyes and a sense of humor? No.

  “So. Tell me, why are ye here?”

  “We are the Nohrin,” Steve began. “We’re here –”

  “Are ye now?” Maelnar interrupted. “I have been wondering when the famed Nohrin would appear. Have one of ye an elemental jhorun then?”

  Steve nodded, igniting his left hand as a demonstration.

  “How did you know about the existence of the Nohrin?” Sarah asked. “Are you familiar with the Bakkian?”

  “I should say so, lass. I created it.”

  “You made the prophecy?” Sarah was dumbfounded. “Then you must know why we’re here.”

  “Nay, lass,” Maelnar corrected, “I do not have the ability to prophesize. The Bakkian was a favor for a sorceress, the same who made the prediction. I simply crafted the vessel in which the prediction was held.”

  “Man alive, how old are you?” Steve wanted to know.

  The dwarf snorted. “Much older than the likes of ye, lad.”

  “Okay, here it is in a nutshell.” Steve paused, wondering how to best describe their situation. “You create portal keys, right?”

  The old dwarf nodded, still smiling at Sarah.

  “You created a green portal key for the Scribes, right?”

  At this, the dwarf’s eyes jumped over to Steve’s. “Aye, that I did, lad. And a right royal pain that was. How do ye know the Scribes? Are they kin to ye?”

  “The Scribes were my grandparents. They have passed away. On my world my wife and I inherited all that they had. We stumbled across this green crystal key, and we accidentally activated their portal, and presto, here we are. However, the key is still on our world.”

  Maelnar was in the midst of taking a large gulp of ale from the goblet set before him when he choked, sending it dribbling down his beard and onto his lap.

  “Confound it. Damn goblet.” He fixed Steve with a steely glare. “Ye lost the key to the Scribes’ portal?”

  “We didn’t lose it,” Steve clarified. “Why does everyone always assume that? We just went through the portal without having the key with us, so we can’t get back home. Unless…”

  The elderly dwarf scowled into his tankard. “Unless I create another key for ye, is that it?”

  Sarah leaned forward. “Is that going to be a problem? Is it that difficult to create a duplicate key?”

  “And what do you think, lass? The Scribes’ home is on another world entirely. I was tasked with creating a key that would activate a portal on that world and link it to this one. Was it easy? Nay, it was single-handedly the most difficult task I have ever encountered.”

  Rhenyon leaned forward. “I realize it is difficult, but it is something that must be done. The king’s son is being threatened by hostile enemies that want to do him harm. As of late there have been several abduction attempts. The Nohrin here will take the young prince to their world, out of harm’s way.”

  The dwarf nodded slowly. “So the need for all the urgency becomes clear. The king seeks to protect his only son. Now that I can understand.” Sighing heavily, he ran his gnarled hands through his thick hair. Leveling his gaze on the small group of humans, he singled out Steve. “This will not be easy, and will not be quick. The materials needed to craft the key are scattered far and wide. It will take me some time to collect them.”

  “Can we help?”

  “Nay, ye do not know where the sensory crystals grow. We are much better equipped for this than the likes of ye.” He sighed again, leaning back heavily on the wall. “This is bad timing, indeed. We have our own set of problems down here. In fact…” He eyed Steve appraisingly. “Ye are a fire thrower. Aye, that will do. That will do nicely. Very well. I have just set my price for doing this favor for ye.”

  Rhenyon s
puttered. “Price? Ye dare to charge us for performing this task?”

  Maelnar leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with the furious captain of the guard.

  “Do not forget this, lad,” he shook his finger at the soldier. “I am not under yer king’s rule. I cooperate at my discretion. Ye ask that I undertake an enormous task. I therefore want a favor in return.”

  Sarah laid her arm on Rhenyon’s. “That’s fair. What do you ask of us?”

  “We have a problem here that we are unable to resolve.”

  “Does it have anything to do with certain tunnels of yours having to be sealed?”

  Maelnar fixed the human woman with a piercing glare. “It does indeed, lass. It most certainly does. How much do ye know?”

  “Only what Breslin has told us,” Rhenyon answered, starting to calm down.

  At that moment, several dwarves appeared, instantly transforming the barren table before them into a sumptuous feast. Huge slabs of roast meat, fresh vegetables, pastries, wine, and beer were all brought before them.

  “Ye must be famished,” Maelnar said, indicating the heavily laden table. “Please, help yerselves to whatever ye like.”

  Rhenyon leaned forward, inspecting the offerings. Picking up an empty plate, and not entirely too certain of what he was about to eat, he selected a little of everything. Whatever he popped into his mouth melted on his tongue. Eagerly, he speared another piece of meat with his knife. Following their captain’s leave, the rest of them, Steve and Sarah included, picked up empty plates and helped themselves.

  At that moment a young dwarf set a plate of exotic looking fruit down in front of Sarah. Steve, who had been munching away on various pieces of meat, looked over the latest offerings and selected a fat, orange fruit. He waited a few moments to see if someone else would select one and show him how to eat it. Smiling inwardly, Rhein also selected a ghanje fruit and slowly sliced off the ends, peeling the skin back much like you would with a banana. Steve mimicked the soldier’s actions and took a bite. Not bad. A little tart for his taste, but the fruit was large, so he sliced a few more pieces out of it and gave some to his wife.