“Mylar,” a large voice, deep and foreboding, echoed from the back of the hall. Telon had indeed been deep into the drink, but word spread to him quickly of Tegan’s request and who his match would be with. As he approached the challenge area the crowd parted to allow him through, with Lizzy at his side.
“So glad you could make it, and a special welcome to all of your people from the fair land of the Mountains. I mean… hills. Many pardons for my mispronunciation of your land,” Telon began with a mocking bow toward Mylar and his father. His drinks had thoroughly quelled his insecurity, leaving him feeling very eloquent and free of doubt. “It has been a great event thus far. Wouldn’t you agree brother?”
“Indeed,” Tegan replied, raising his arms to the crowd. It brought another large applause from those attending. Everyone in the Great Hall stopped what they were doing, with their attention focused on the challenge area.
Telon removed the necklace Deyanira had given him so long ago, and gave it and the dark stone to Tegan, “Please hold this, it will be but a few moments,” Telon asked of Tegan.
“You will get it back, I promise,” Tegan replied. Telon then turned his attention back to Mylar.
“Mylar, so ingenious of you to challenge the soon to be crowned king. What a gift your offer was to him, a last chance to battle before his crowning. Alas, Tegan would really have someone to fear should he get roughed up, his wife would have his hide!” Again, the crowd roared. Mylar now was the one that was one being mocked, and he did not like it.
“Telon,” Mylar began in a more solemn and dark tone, “How is your scar? Did you tell your cleaning lady who gave it to you?” As he said the last part he gestured toward Lizzy, who looked down in embarrassment. The comment brought a hush over those watching. The tension mounted, along with Telon’s anger. Mylar’s put down was like a large bolt of lightning, everyone waited anxiously for the thunder that was sure to come.
Telon turned to Lizzy, lifting her chin until her watered eyes met his. He whispered to her, “You bow to no one, and apologize for nothing. Go to Milan, I will see you soon.” He then kissed her gently on her forehead and she turned and made her way to the head table, where Milan was waiting to comfort her.
Telon then turned to Mylar, as he handed his axe and sword to Tegan without breaking sight of his foe. He said to all standing close, “I suggest anyone not wanting to get in this fight back up a few paces.” Then to Mylar alone, “Are you ready, friend?”
“Always,” Mylar eagerly retorted as he handed one of his brothers his weapons as well. The two foes walked forward to the middle of the clearing, standing toe-to-toe. Mylar was a little taller, but Telon was thicker. His muscles rippled throughout his chest and arms in anticipation of the impending fight.
The men outlining the fighting pit and quickly started taking bets on who would win. Jaric again walked to the challenge mat, looked both in the eye and said, “Begin!”
The two did not move at first, as they studied each other intently. The stand-off lasted a few moments, each waiting to see if the other would make the first move.
Telon learned well over the years to not be too aggressive. He would wait for Mylar to act. Fiji had taught the brothers to control anger and think the fight through. They learned that the instigator usually lost the battle.
Mylar started, reaching aggressively with both hands for Telon’s right arm. He latched on and twisted as he stepped into Telon. He was attempting to throw Telon over, but Telon countered by placing his hand on Mylar’s back and flipping over him, with Telon landing squarely on his feet on the other side. Telon reversed the hold and did the same move in return, sending Mylar head over heels. Mylar landed hard and flat on his back, the first points in the fight went to Telon. The crowd roared with approval of the battle, with many of the little dwarves squeezed past the knees of the larger adults to get a peek at the fight.
Mylar was angered and rolled quickly to his feet. He charged again at Telon, who stepped aside to avoid the rush. He did not avoid the turning swing from Mylar, the punch landing solidly on Telon’s chin. The blow knocked Telon back, and before he could recover it was followed by two more punches to either side of his face. Telon went down to the floor as Mylar stood his ground, absorbing the praise from his followers.
Mylar’s premature celebration lasted too long and he turned too slow, as he found Telon had regained his footing. Mylar went for another blow to Telon’s head, but Telon was ready this time. He bent low and came in close to Mylar’s body, catching the punching shoulder with his own. Telon easily picked up Mylar and quickly dropped him back first, hard onto his bent knee, almost breaking Mylar in half. The moan forced from Mylar almost blew the candles out in the room. Telon’s followers responded to the turn with their roaring approval, but Telon paid them no heed as he focused on the fight.
Twice Mylar tried to stand but was crushed back down by a mighty sledgehammer right fist from Telon. Mylar, knowing he was close to done with little to lose, reached into his boot and pulled a metal fitting that he placed on his hand. Many saw Mylar’s foul intentions, and warned Telon of it. With the fitting around his knuckles, any landed punch to Telon’s head would surely end the fight, and maybe his life.
Tegan started to step in, but Telon raised his hand to stop him, “Stay brother, he will need more than that.”
Mylar came in with a powerful swing that Telon was barely able to avoid, but the attempt left Mylar over stepping and off balance. Telon seized his opportunity, grabbing the armed fist and twisting it into a submission hold. Telon kept applying pressure even as he heard bone beginning to break, until Mylar grudgingly let loose of the fitting. It dropped with a clang to the stone floor, where a small dwarf scampered to retrieve it, delivering it to Tegan for safe guarding.
Telon then whirled Mylar onto his shoulders and across his back, grabbing Mylar by his face with his left hand and legs with his right. Telon applied pressure until Mylar begged for mercy, which was even quicker than Telon gave him credit for. Telon then quickly spun Mylar around and slammed his body through a wooden table that was set for children to eat on. Mylar was done, and did not move.
The crowd applauded wildly, except for a few of Mylar’s close friends. Telon saw they were beginning to finger their knives and swords, with wild and reckless ideas brewing in their ignorant minds.
Telon ambled over to the table of knives that was set out for tossing at the melons. He laid out five knives and his axe in a straight line. He took a quick look at Mylar’s friends so he knew he had their attention, and then he turned and fired his first knife. It whizzed past the dwarves, just missing the head of the largest one who was readying his sword for battle. The knife buzzed by his ear right at the catapult for the melons, cutting the rope that held the catapult down. As it twanged and fell to the ground, the melon was released and sailed through the open air of the Hall, with all eyes watching its marvelous arch.
Telon then promptly turned, and while spinning non-stop, flung all four knives in rapid succession at the moving target. Each knife found its mark, landing with a thud into the flying melon. The people were cheering, but calmed as Telon reached for his axe, paused for one second, and launched the weapon. It sparkled with reflected light as it twirled through the air with a whiz that all could hear. The axe also found its mark, slashing the melon in two as the axe buried itself into a wooden arch across the hall.
The crowd roared again at the marksmanship of the prince. Telon stole another look at Mylar’s friends, who realized the error of their thoughts. Sheathing their swords and knives, they picked up the slowly waking Mylar, and took him to his room.
Telon accepted many pats on the back for his feat, and felt as though a demon had been exorcised from his past. He did not relax until the men of the Hills left the room, and then he went to Tegan.
“Well done brother!” Tegan applauded as he put the necklace around Telon’s neck. “Father would have been proud!”
Telon fingered the stone around h
is neck, and his thoughts turned south, “Father was never proud of me, but I know you have always been there for me, and I thank you.”
Tegan did not respond, letting the conversation die as Telon left him in search of Lizzy.
After Telon sat down by his lady, the remainder of the wrestling tournament ensued. Fiatt, a dwarf of the Flats, took home the title of best wrestler. The dwarves of the Flats were putting on quite a show for all tribes to see. Though Fiji certainly did nothing to brag in front of the other kings, their irritation was obvious from their twisted faces, particularly from Kilgore. Fiji’s dwarves were getting most the attention on this evening.
This lasted for several hours, and all ate more than was to their content. Most drank more than what was considered excessive. It was getting late when the bartering was over and all the goods were put away until the next morning. Next up was the Parade of Tribes. Each tribe, in turn, would present a performance to the main table of kings and representatives. Each performance would portray the life and struggles of their people. These were usually accompanied by music and singing.
Telon was sitting by Lizzy, enjoying the show. The earlier events seemed like a distant memory. Deyanira, never one to allow enjoyment, approached escorting Gweneviere. “Telon,” she said, “perhaps Gweneviere could sit with you tonight? Lizzy, be kind and bring a drink for our guest.”
“Lizzy,” Telon protested as she rose, for he didn’t want her to do this.
“Its fine,” she said. “I can get us all something to drink.” She was far too nice to argue and didn’t want to get any further onto Deyanira’s bad side.
Gweneviere was greeted and welcomed by Telon, and he pulled her seat out for her. Much to Deyanira’s chagrin, Lizzy returned in a short while with drinks for all three, and together they enjoyed the rest of the evening.
The Flats gave the most entertaining performance of the evening, of course. They utilized drums only. Many, many drums, and their sound was deafening. Their show consisted of high-intensity acrobatics, which depicted the fighting story of how they had dealt with the trolls at the taking of their region. The crowd was very satisfied and gave them the loudest applause of the night. King Fiji was extremely pleased with how it went, again to the sting of Kilgore.
At the closing of the parade all settled down, and attention was given to the front table. For all the excitement of the night, the whole point was the coronation, which was about to begin. There were neither speeches nor introductions. Dwarves were in general not good at such things and thought them needless, unless of course drink was involved.
Everyone grew quiet as Tegan stood and walked solemnly to the right of the table, past all the other kings. He stood and waited as Milan did the same. Together they stood, looking the other in the eyes, understanding completely the power of the moment, which would be long remembered. Deyanira then walked behind the row of kings to where the crown sat at a special table, guarded by two armed soldiers of Tunder Bin. She then lifted it and carried toward Tegan, standing between the two. She smiled at Tegan, and then presented the crown to Milan.
Tegan knelt in front of Milan as she gently placed the crown on his head. “Being king,” she said, “means you must put the needs of our people before the needs of our family. Remember that always.”
For the first time, King Tegan, King of the lands of Lemuria, stood and beheld his people. With the crowd cheering with praise and excitement, fireworks burst at the ceiling and little could be heard for several minutes. Tegan hugged Milan first, and then Deyanira, before receiving congratulations from each of the other four kings.
The new king then returned to the front of the main table, addressing the people, “Thank you for being here. Please enjoy everything this night has to offer. Know that as the new king, I will do my best to further not only my people, but all our tribes. I will be working to bridge the gap between our people and improve our standing in the region.” Again, the crowd roared at the thought of attaining old glory.
Then came a surprise as Milan’s maidens brought forth another gift. They carried it out in a golden case and handed it to Milan. She then opened the long case and presented to Tegan a gold lined two-headed battle axe.
The handle was wrapped in leather, and at its base was placed half of the red diamond that Milan had found by the river just before the attack. All that witnessed the presentation were in awe of the gift, knowing what a weapon it would be in the hands of the King.
Tegan gazed at the axe for several moments, trying to take it all in. As he held it high the diamond began to glow. He then took some practice swings back and forth, two hands and then one. The jewel blazed red hot as Tegan wielded it.
“This is to help you protect all that you hold dear,” said Milan, “I had Jaric make it himself to have perfect balance, and he assured me it was among his best works. I have put many blessing on it, and it will not fail you.” Milan then took the axe and then placed it in a holster she tied around Tegan’s waist, where it would always be at need.
“Thank you, Milan, it will serve us well.”
She then reached back into the case and took out a simple golden necklace, and inset in it was the other half of the diamond. “These were attached when I found them. Part will always be by your side and with you in battle, and the other will remain over my heart. We will always know what the other is doing, and draw strength from one another when each of us needs it.” As she placed it around her neck, hers also began to glow.
All dwarves believed their true strength came from their wives, and Tegan was no different. Milan was a strong dwarf woman, confident and beautiful, and her love for Tegan was endless. Neither desired anyone else and all watching were happy for their union and Tegan’s coronation.
Chapter 10: The Young Sorcerer
Milan’s family was known to keep company with sorcerers. They were heavily frowned upon by most dwarves, as they distrusted anything magical. This was particularly true of the people in Tunder Bin, who thought themselves the most traditional of the tribes. Milan was from the Ring Mountains, where magic was far more acceptable and appreciated. Milan was so loved by the people of Tunder Bin that they paid no heed to where she was from, having convinced themselves the rumors just weren’t true. The only dwarf from Tunder Bin to have had any contact with magic recently was Timo, Tegan and Telon’s cousin.
Timo’s interest in it had gotten him sent away many years earlier. He was a silly dwarf at best, who was of little use in the mines or battlefield. He loved to laugh and joke, and especially he loved to drink. He was sent to live in the Ring Mountains, which was mostly arranged by Milan. He studied under Quelna, the Sorcerer of King Dorir. Quelna was a great and powerful sorcerer, and was feared by many for his terrific, terrible powers. Years ago, it was rumored he worked for the King in Tunder Bin, which at the time was twice the size and encompassed the goblin stronghold. Quelna was feared for his supposed ability to predict the future.
Everyone knew of Quelna, but few knew of Timo. He was neither great nor powerful, not yet at least.
“Be careful cousin, anger your wife and she will remove you of your manhood!” Timo said as he walked up to surprise his cousin.
“Timo, you have returned!” exclaimed Tegan as he grabbed his cousin, lifting him off the ground. Being in the air made Timo very uneasy. He was hefty and seldom left the ground for any reason.
Telon, who walked up with Timo, added, “Show them this trick you have been telling me about and prove to us that in the past many years you have been gone you have learned something.”
“I know plenty,” Timo boasted, as Tegan lowered him back down. “Watch this!” He looked to Milan, “Maybe some flowers for the Lady?” He took off his hat and as he waved his hand over it, a light appeared and began to emulate from the brim. He reached his hand in while muttering a spell, and to his dismay he produced a turtle for Milan. She giggled at the mishap, “Don’t worry Timo, I love turtles!” she said consolingly, trying not to embarrass him. The othe
rs held nothing back, and failed to control their laughter.
“What, where did I go wrong?” Timo said to himself. He was not happy and quite embarrassed. Timo tried his best to ignore it and kept going over the steps of the trick in his mind.
As Tegan calmed his laughter he said to Timo, “I have no doubt you will be a great sorcerer in time. Until then, and after, you will be the first official Sorcerer of Tunder Bin.”
Timo was thrilled with his appointment and quickly forgot his foul-up. “I will not let you down,” Timo said, bowing low. “But what will the people say?”
“They will say I’m crazy, so you better do something great before they run me out!” All laughed again, save Timo, who knew he would have to do better if he was interested in his new appointment.
Erol grew weary of the party, and lest any more drunken dwarves challenge him to a wrestling contest, he decided it was time for him to leave. He went below to walk the halls, wandering for a long time past many small gatherings of dwarves. He eventually came to one of the opening that looked out over the mountain, and saw a small fire lit. There, next to the fire, sat an older dwarf. His dress said he was a dwarf of the Flats. The dwarf saw Erol approaching and so he invited Erol to join.
“Hello Erol, I have heard of you and what you did for Milan. Without you, tonight would not have been possible, so we thank you! My name is Fiji.”
“Without Tegan and Telon I would be dead,” Erol explained as he sat by the fire. It was cold outside but the warmth of the fire and the fresh air made this a comfortable place to sit and rest. Both preferred the open sky and feel of the breeze on their face to the stuffy, dark, underground of Tunder Bin. Fiji spoke of his people by the ocean, and the many differences between his and the other tribes.
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