by Tom Liberman
There was a long silence in the group and then they busied themselves about the campsite preparing for the night. Dol spent most of the time near the fire gazing at it as if it held the answer to some great mystery. Milli watched Petra bone the first of the fish and put it on the fire.
“You need a sharp little knife for jobs like this,” said Petra. “You should never be without your knives, Milli. I’ve seen how you can handle the blade. Did the dwarves teach you that?”
Milli nodded her head as Petra handed her the third one to try and fillet. “Yes, they didn’t think the hammer or the axe was an appropriate weapon for a girl like me. Or at least that’s what they said. Everyone in Craggen Steep gets at least rudimentary training with weapons. The guardsmen are born to it. They learn weapon craft as children and never take up smith work. I learned from a crippled old dwarf who couldn’t teach the boys anymore. He was a sweetie; he’d lost an arm to the darklings but still knew a thing or two about fighting. I was never very good but he didn’t give up on me.”
“It’s good to know how to use the knife,” said Petra. “My people, all the girls are taught how to use the knife. We … you won’t think the worse of me?”
“No,” said Milli absently as she focused on deboning the little fish.
“It is not uncommon for a pretty gypsy girl to meet with a wealthy young man from whatever region we are visiting and when alone use the knife to steal his purse,” said the older woman with a shrug of her shoulders. “My people are often ill-treated by the natives of a region so they feel it is justified.”
“Did you ever do anything like that?”
Petra nodded her head, “I was young and pretty once although it’s hard to see now,” she said with a laugh. “Now you have to be decisive with your cut. If you hesitate you’ll botch the job. Your hand is steady enough; let’s see what you can do.”
Milli busied herself at the fire with the fish while Brogus wandered over to where Dol had piled two more limbs onto the already raging blaze, “Got it going enough there, Dol?”
Dol didn’t seem to notice for a few second and Brogus leaned forward ready to speak again when his friend suddenly turned his head, a look of surprise on his face, “It is rather high. I didn’t notice.” Then he broke into a loud guffawing laugh as Brogus stared at him.
The two women also turned their heads and looked at the dwarves, “At least he still has a sense of humor,” said Petra and smiled at Milli.
“He never really had a sense of humor,” said Milli a frown on her face and the knife tapping at the cutting board. “I suppose it’s better than anger though. He’s been angry a lot lately. Do you think the hammer might be doing it?”
Petra lowered her voice, “It could be. You’ve seen the way he keeps a hold on it all the time and his hand is black from the heat. You know, you never even told me how you got it or what it is. Not that I’m asking you to betray any confidences but it would help if I knew.”
Milli looked down at the board and the fish, badly cut compared to the two that Petra did earlier, and gave a low sigh as Dol continued to laugh loudly. “I don’t know if you want to hear the story.”
Petra nodded her head, “It’s up to you.”
“We stole it,” said Milli as her shoulders drooped. “But, it wasn’t like anyone was using it. It was just sitting there and the First Edos told us to do it!”
“Who’s the First Edos?” said Petra quietly sitting beside the girl.
“Should you be telling her this?” said Dol in a quiet voice from over by the fire. When Milli looked at his eyes they reflected the blaze and seemed to burn red hot like an animal peering from the woods.
“She has the right to know,” said Milli standing up, putting her hands on her hips, and giving him a firm look. “We wouldn’t have made it this far without her.”
Dol shrugged, “Tell her then. Maybe she’ll talk some sense into you. This is too dangerous. You should head back to Craggen Steep with Brogus and I’ll finish alone.”
“Stop with that already!” said Milli taking a step forward and jutting her firm little jaw at Dol. “I’ve been in this since the beginning and I won’t quit until we see it through or die trying.”
“Die trying?” said Petra with a raised eyebrow.
“You knew it was dangerous, right from the beginning, you don’t fool me,” said Milli turning to the older woman and stomping her foot.
Petra smiled and began to clean up the badly filleted fish with practiced and smooth motions, “That’s true little one. I knew there was something special about the three of you the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m not adverse to a little danger. Now, tell me about this hammer that you stole and who is this First Edos?”
“The Hammer of Fire,” said Milli with a look towards Dol who did not look back at her. “It’s a relic of Craggen Steep, it was made by the First Edos; well, no, it was put together by the First Edos hundreds of years ago.”
“Not hundreds,” said Dol quietly while his hand gently rubbed up and down the handle of the hammer.
“Anyway, a long time ago,” said Milli. “If you want to tell the story; then go ahead.
Dol said nothing.
“No? Ok, then. I’ll tell it my way. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” said Milli with a smile as she looked over to Dol and Brogus. Brogus looked back at her with a wide grin but Dol kept his eyes down and towards the fire. “It was put together hundreds of years ago.”
“Yes, you said made but then switched to put together,” said Petra. “There’s a difference?”
“As I understand it, yes,” said Milli once again looking over to Dol and Brogus. “The two parts, the handle and the head were made at different times and put together later.”
“That handle doesn’t much look like dwarf-craft, now that you mention it,” said Petra. “It’s too slim for the heavy hammer-head, and the writing on the side looks elf-wrought if you ask me, but I’ve not met too many of the faery folk in my travels. Lovely singers they are. We met up with a bunch of them once when I was a girl. They stayed up the entire night singing songs and telling stories.”
As Milli told the story to Petra, Brogus walked over to Dol and stood next to him at the fire. “Do you think she’ll want to stay with us after she knows everything?”
“I hope not,” said Dol with a sneer. “The less that come along the better. You’d be smart to convince Milli to head back. I can make it from here by myself. I’ve got a horse and directions. It’s just a matter of time.”
“I’m not very smart,” said Brogus stroking his lengthening beard. “I’m going to need a new band if I keep let it growing at this rate. Platinum doesn’t seem to be as plentiful out here in the world.”
“I take that to mean you’re not going to abandon the quest,” said Dol as a statement rather than a question.
Brogus nodded his head. “I hope Petra stays with us. She has a lot of experience about living out in the world. It’s different than in the mountains. Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s different but there are little things I wouldn’t think about, you wouldn’t think about. You know it’s true. Fishing? You couldn’t fish if your life depended on it.”
“There are fish in the mountain streams,” said Dol.
Brogus looked ahead, “Well, you may have found some fire in your spirit but you’re still as stubborn as ever. Why can’t you change that personality trait and just go along for once in your life?”
Dol looked into the fire and his right hand caressed the haft of the Hammer of Fire for a moment as he paused, “I’m not sure,” he finally admitted. “I don’t think I’m different. It’s this quest. It’s too dangerous. Milli could die and … I don’t want that.”
“I could die too,” said Brogus with a grunting little laugh that shook his belly. “You’re not worried about me?”
Dol shook his head, “Not as much, no. She’s been insulated from the brutality of the world in Craggen Steep. Taken care of. She thinks this is
all a game but we know better. We’ve seen what the darklings do to prisoners, what the real world is like.”
“I’m not so smart, as you say,” said Brogus with his head tilted to the side and his brow furrowed. “But it seems to me that the outside world is coming to Craggen Steep whether we like it not. Corancil, the armies of the north, I don’t see how we can stay hidden. Like Petra says, they probably already know about us. Even if you convinced Milli to go back, and take Petra with her, what would she find when she go there? Dwarven armies joining Corancil? War, death, destruction? How is she worse off with us, even if things go wrong, than back home?”
Dol looked down at the ground and pursed his lips making a little sucking sound, “She’d be alive.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Brogus. “You can’t see the future any more than I can.”
“I see fiery death for us all,” said Dol. “You haven’t held the hammer. It was forged in the heart of Craggen Steep and I feel the heartbeat of Gazadum. I see what waits for us in the volcano. It’s isn’t life and it isn’t pretty.”
“Then let’s all turn back,” said Brogus putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Or even just stay here in the south, explore, make a name for ourselves. With that hammer we’ll be heroes in no time. Why kill ourselves fulfilling the mission?”
“Because that is what I’ve set out to do and that is what I will do whether I live or not. I’ll take the hammer, I’ll battle Gazadum, and I’ll most likely die in the attempt. I just don’t want you and Milli to die with me.”
“And Petra,” said Brogus.
“And Petra,” replied Dol nodding his head. “It doesn’t matter to me anymore.” Here he looked up from the fire and directly at Brogus with his eyes burning a dull red like the last coal at the center of the fire long after all the rest have turned to ash. “I know my fate. Now you know as well. Make your own decision, Brogus.”
“I’ve made my decision,” replied the dwarf with a broad smile as his hand went to the heavy axe at his side. “I’m with you, Dol. To the end, wherever that takes us. To the volcanoes, to Gazadum, to glory, or to death, I’m with you and there’s nothing that will sway me, not even the fiery gaze of Gazadum himself, if he is still around, which I doubt anyway.”
“Are you boys done deciding the rest of our fates yet,” said Milli, suddenly standing over them with her hands on her rounded little hips and a wry grin on her face. “Petra knows everything now and she’s going to stay with us. So, Dol, it doesn’t matter what you think or what you do, we’re coming along all the way. To the mountains, to Gazadum, to death if that’s where this road leads. We’re all in this together!”
Brogus rose to his feet and joined Milli and Petra as they put their hands in the center of the little circle, “Together until the end,” he said.
Dol sat by the fire and turned his gaze back towards the flickering flames and said nothing at all.
Chapter 18
“We’re lost,” said Cleathelm as the little road they followed for days eventually trailed into a babbling creek and did not emerge from the other side. There were only two of them now that Rogu ate the poison mushrooms. They had left him on the road yesterday when he proved incapable of going on.
“What difference does it make?” said the Blaggard with a shrug of his shoulders as he unstrapped a canteen. “Look, there’s a volcano over there,” he went on while pointing up and to the right.
“I see it,” said Cleathelm looking in directly the opposite direction and pointing that way.
“No, over there,” said Blaggard pointing, but as he tried to correct the dwarf he saw the second volcano also. “Well, ain’t that spit and vinegar.”
“What?” said Cleathelm and turned to the little goblin with a scowl.
“That makes two lone volcanoes, at least. I suppose one of them might be close to the group of five. Which way should we head?”
“How am I supposed to know?” said Cleathelm looking back and forth between the two mountains that were nearly in opposite directions from one another. “This place is stupid.”
“I see smoke over there,” said Blaggard pointing in a third direction. “Could be a town, could be more volcanoes.”
“Even more?” said Cleathelm with a shake of his head. “We’ll never find Dol and the hammer blundering around like this.”
“We’re ahead of them, remember that,” said Blaggard. “That mage said Dol and his group went to the desert first and from there would have to find their way here. Your uncle said the First Edos told them about the five volcanoes. One of those is where Gazadum is hiding. A creature that big can’t keep hidden for long. People have to know about it. We’ve got time to find where Gazadum is holed up and then just stake the place out and wait for Dol and the others to arrive.”
“Yeah, I guess,” said the dwarf and looped his axe on his belt. “We go that way,” he said pointing towards the volcano he spotted first.
“Why not head for the smoke?” said Blaggard looking in the other direction. “It could be a town. They’ll know if a giant fire elemental is hiding in a volcano nearby, at least you’d think so.”
“Because I’m in charge,” said Cleathelm and shoved the little goblin. “We go where I say we go.”
“What about Rogu?” said Blaggard as he staggered a few steps back from the dwarf but managed to retain his balance. Blaggard wore heavy leather boots with steel tipped toes and he thought about a swift kick to the dwarf’s knee but decided against it. There would be plenty of time to kill Cleathelm in his sleep and take his gold. Better to bide his time and take the dwarf down when the odds were more in his favor. He’d seen the coin purse that Cleathelm carelessly showed back in Das’von to the mage that sent them through the portal. Out here in the world that kind of gold could keep him in slaves and girls for many, many years. The stupid dwarf had no idea of the value of the gold in his pockets. “If I’m lucky,” thought Blaggard to himself, “someone will kill Cleathelm for his jewelry and I’ll take the rest.”
“What are you looking at?” said Cleathelm noting the intent gaze.
“Nothing, I was just wondering about Rogu. He might get better and catch up to us.”
“No, let’s go.”
“Maybe put down a sign in the grass or something,” suggested Blaggard digging into the turf with the toe of his boot. “If Rogu catches up to us he could be of some help.”
“No, he’s a deader for sure. You saw his face was all purple. He never should have eaten those mushrooms. You warned him. He was an idiot anyway, otherwise I would have waited longer.”
“A well-paid idiot,” murmured Blaggard to himself. He’d made a private arrangement with Rogu for a fair split of the money once they got rid of Cleathelm but that was no longer possible. To add to the misery he’d paid the burly dwarf and Cleathelm took all the gold and jewelry before they left him to die beside the road.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” said Blaggard. “I’m just thinking.”
“Goblins don’t think,” said the dwarf with a smirk. “They simply stab in the dark. That’s your job. Stab them when they ain’t looking.”
“Of course,” said the goblin with a smirk. “We little goblins must obey our dwarf masters.”
If Cleathelm heard the sarcasm he gave no indication as such and immediately marched off in the direction of the first volcano. His heavy wool jerkin and heavy chain armor immediately began to make their weight felt in the hot sun of the southern lands and it wasn’t long before he pulled a flask of water from his hip and guzzled nearly half of it in one massive swig.
Blaggard, wearing only a light leather jerkin, pulled out a similar flask, took an easy pull from it and stoppered it carefully back up.
Cleathelm wiped his brow with the container still open and water slopped out onto his hand and dripped to the ground, “Blazes hot out here. I don’t remember it being near this hot on caravan duty especially in the middle of winter.”
“I don�
��t think it is winter,” said Blaggard.
“Of course it’s winter, you dolt,” said Cleathelm with a snort. “Goblins, little heads, little brains. What else would it be?”
Blaggard shrugged.
Cleathelm got up right in the goblin’s face and smirked at him, “Was it winter when we left Das’von?”
“Yes,” said Blaggard impassively, he’d learned that arguing with someone certain of their position and also absolutely stupid was a losing proposition.
“And somehow you think it magically became summer?” said Cleathelm with a little shake of his head and a snort.
Blaggard shrugged.
“How did that happen?” asked Cleathelm.
“The evidence points to it being summer,” said Blaggard maintaining the quiet tone.
“The evidence points to it being summer,” mimicked Cleathelm in a nasally sort of voice. “That’s stupid. It was winter when we left, it’s winter now. How much of a genius does it take to figure that out?”
Blaggard shrugged again and said quietly, with little hope of penetrating the thought process of the dwarf, “The days are long, it’s hot.”
“What was that?” said Cleathelm.
“The days are long. The temperature is hot. That is evidence that it is summer.”
“I asked you before, dolt, was it winter when we left Das’von?”
“Yes,” repeated Blaggard.
“There you go,” said Cleathelm. “Once again the superior dwarf mind comes to the right answer. I don’t know how anyone could be as stupid as you.”
Blaggard shrugged again, he considered renewing his argument but decided against it, “I can’t argue with logic like that.”
“Exactly,” said Cleathelm with a smug smile. “I can’t believe how stupid you goblins are. It’s not winter, it’s summer,” he mimicked in a high pitched imitation of the goblin half-breed.
Blaggard rolled his eyes. “They might have supplies in the village. Beer.”
Cleathelm stopped and looked back at the little half-breed goblin and nodded his head, “You have a point there, my little friend. Just because I’m smarter than you doesn’t mean you can’t come up with a good idea now and again as long the concept is simple, like eating and drinking. Just to let you know there are no hard feelings we’ll head for the town. How does that sound?”
