by Dave Hazel
“Sosos? No,” he yelled. “We’re not Sosos,” he shook his head wildly to let them see he had no connection with Sosos. “I think this little idiot thinks we’re Sosos,” he turned to Doninka who massaged the damage the handcuff did to her skin.
“You speak common tongue?” A gruff voice called to them while entering the room. He moved closer to look at the strangers. His enunciation of the words sounded slightly slurred and garbled, but he could be understood.
“Yes, yes,” Doninka replied excitedly.
The Dwarf who spoke looked to be unarmed. He carried himself similarly to the one with authority who had put the bully on a tight leash.
“Does he think we’re Sosos?” Mykal asked and nodded to the bully. The bully stopped when he realized communication took place between them. “We’re not Sosos,” Mykal said emphatically and he stared into the face of the new Dwarf who watched Doninka rub her leg where a welt probably started.
“What you do our home?” The gruff voice asked.
“That’s hard to explain,” Mykal said and slowed his speaking to be better understood. He didn’t want to explain the truth yet just in case his friends were wandering around inside the mountain. He didn’t want to give them away if they hadn’t been discovered. “But we are not Sosos. We are against Sosos.”
“Soso evil.”
“Yes,” Mykal replied joyfully. “Sosos are evil. We are good,” he pointed to himself and Doninka.
The bully seemed to grow agitated. He tapped his stick into the palm of his hand.
“Come,” the gruff voiced Dwarf motioned for them to follow him as he walked to the door.
“What about our friend? He’s hurt bad,” Mykal pointed.
“Come,” the little man motioned again. “We get care.” He pointed to three of the armed men and spoke their language. They put their weapons down and worked to carry Klacken.
Mykal pulled away and yanked Doninka with him. “I’m sorry,” he apologized for the brief pain he inflicted. “Here, gimme your hand.” He smiled and took her small hand into his. “This way, if either one of us goes one way or the other, it won’t hurt so much.”
Despite the grim situation they faced, she looked happy to be hold his hand. “Oh my,” she gasped and stopped in the doorway. The corridors in all directions were lined and filled with numerous armed bearded warriors.
“Damn, we’re not escaping,” he whispered.
The gruff voice Dwarf and a couple of armed soldiers led the way. They eagerly followed and didn’t want to be separated from him. Mykal felt communication could lead to their freedom. As they passed by many of the Dwarves they received dirty looks and heard grumblings. He couldn’t understand the unkind things being said, but knew by the tone of the grumblings, pleasantries weren’t being shared.
“How do you know the common tongue?” Doninka asked the Dwarf with the gruff voice when he fell back to walk beside the two prisoners.
“My people speak common tongue ages before. We speak common tongue before hoomins come this land. We speak common tongue when my people lived outside mountains,” he replied. His words were slurred and garbled, but understandable.
“That means your people have been here for ages and ages,” she replied. “My people have been rooted here for many, many generations. Hundreds of years,” she exaggerated.
“Yes. Time in past when our peoples shared together,” he said and folded his hands to show his thick fingers interlocking with each other. “Most my people not speak common tongue,” his gruff voice said the words slowly. “Only few speak common tongue.”
“Just make sure you tell your number one boss that we are not Sosos,” Mykal said as he eyed all the angry faces they passed.
“I speak to King when stand before King. Speak to Metz not be good,” he nodded to the bully who eyed their conversation as they walked through the maze of Dwarves. “Waste of talk. Metz cruel. Few want Metz company. Many fear Metz presence. One told I, you pushed Metz down,” his garbled words were directed to Mykal and he chuckled at Mykal’s bravery or foolishness. “You dead his best,” he paused to find the right word while he looked at Doninka. “Pet. You dead best pet. That not good when go before King. King not friend of Metz. King knows wrong is wrong and you have, how you say, you wrong, you trusprased?”
“Trespassed?” Mykal offered.
“Ah yes. You trespassed. You dead Metz best pet.”
“I was defending myself. I killed it, not her.”
“What will your King do about that?” Doninka asked.
“Not know how King rule. King fair. King just. If you have good tale for trespass King may rule no thing. Destroy rare two headed pet different. Metz get say in punishment. Metz cruel. Metz hard. Pet belong Metz. Metz decide punishment to crime.”
“Oh that sucks,” Mykal moaned.
“What?” Doninka asked. Both were she and the Dwarf confused by that term.
“Nothing,” Mykal shook his head. “What’s your name?”
“I called Krink.” A slight raise in his lip constituted a smile while slightly dipping his head.
“Whadda ya think Metz will wanna do with us?”
“I not know. I know Metz mean. Metz cruel. King must agree for punishment. Punishment too harsh to crime, King rule over, say no. Metz say angry to you. You not allow punish female.”
“What kind of punishment is usually handed out?” Mykal tried to plan a counter proposal to Metz’s desires.
“Metz may want removed hands for destroy pet. May--”
“Removed? Whadda ya mean removed?” Mykal asked.
“Removed,” Krink answered with a chopping motion of his hand. “May keep you as slave for time. Time be ruled by King.”
“That’s friggin crazy,” Mykal scoffed.
“I do not wish to have my hands cut off,” Doninka whined.
“I’m not gonna allow that to happen. I’ll try to get us outta this. Krink, Metz can’t just have us killed, can he?”
“No, no. Too harsh. King would agree, too harsh.”
“What if he tries to make me a slave? Would there be a way of appealing something like that?”
“Battle pit. You may challenge Metz to battle pit. Battle pit is fight to dead. You win, you freedom. You not win, you dead.” He shook his head as if to say that was out of the question. “Not good.”
“Battle to the death would be the only way?”
“You win, you released from punishment,” Krink replied and paused as he looked over Mykal’s body. “I not advise challenge. Not good plan. Metz mighty warrior. Biggest warrior of my people. Metz enjoy battle. Metz enjoy make pain. Metz enjoy make dead. I fear you most sure dead if battle pit Metz.”
“I would rather take a chance fighting him instead of being his slave for one minute,” Mykal replied angrily. “He’s a rotten little jerk. If it comes down to it how are the weapons chosen?”
“Metz choose weapons. Metz great warrior all weapons.”
“What are you thinking Mykal?” Doninka asked.
“We’ll see what happens. I’m not gonna be his prisoner or slave. If it comes down to that I’ll just piss him off till he wants to take me to this battle pit thing.”
“Not good plan,” Krink advised against it. “Metz great warrior. Not good plan.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mykal said when he noticed many were watching their conversation. “Is he a hot head?” Mykal asked but Krink gave a puzzled look. “Does he get angry easy?”
“Ah, yes. Big angry. Big angry easy.”
“Good.” Mykal smirked. “Krink, I would like you to tell him something for me right now.”
“What are you going to do Mykal?” Doninka’s voice carried a suspicious concern.
“Metz,” Mykal turned and called the bully to him. “Come here,” he waved to him over to them.
Metz growled words to Krink. “Metz want know what you say.”
“Before I say anything Krink, do you think he’ll let us off with leniency? Do you t
hink he will let us go free out of the kindness of his heart?” He reworded to be better understood.
Krink gave a gruff chuckle. “Metz not good heart.”
“Okay, I want you to tell him that I’m sorry for killing that dog or whatever that two headed thing was,” Mykal explained to Krink while looking at Metz. “Tell him I’m the one who killed it, not the girl,” he said and pointed to his own chest.
Krink relayed the message. Metz responded angrily.
“Now tell him, I’m sorry that I killed the dog because the dog was much better looking than its master. The master should have been killed. Not the animal,” he added with a deliberately loud laugh to get everyone’s attention.
“You not want me speak such words,” Krink said. He offered him a chance to retract his statement.
“Mykal do not say such things,” Doninka gasped. “He may try to harm you now. I need you.”
“I want you to tell him just the way I said it to you,” Mykal raised his voice.
“Mykal, what are you doing?” Doninka sounded panicked.
“I’m trying to get him so pissed off at me that he’ll want to take me into the battle pit or whatever it’s called. I’m not gonna stay a slave to this little jerk.”
Mykal exaggerated his laugh when Metz exploded in rage. Suddenly the wooden rod in his hand swung down on Mykal’s shoulder. Metz then punched Mykal in the stomach and forced him to double over again. Mykal refused to fight back. He hoped to give the impression of weakness. If it came down to a battle for his freedom he believed the little bully Metz would eagerly accept his challenge.
“What did he say?” Mykal groaned while a couple of other Dwarves pulled Metz back. “Damn, that one hurt,” Mykal grunted and held his stomach. “He’s gonna get his,” he whispered to Doninka and then looked back to Krink.
“Metz say control tongue or lose tongue. He think you, I not sure of term, not good in head,” Krink pointed to his head.
“He thinks I’m crazy,” Mykal laughed. “Good.”
2.
They had walked for some time and Mykal began to wonder if they were just walking in circles to keep them from memorizing their journey. It felt like they walked for miles under the mountain. There were countless side passages down every corridor they traveled. The passages varied in size, but all looked the same as far as being made with the same material. Some could fit five abreast and some corridors were wide enough to accommodate twelve to fifteen people across.
“I hope we’re not gonna have to make a run for it,” Mykal whispered to Doninka. “We’re never gonna make it. We’re up shit creek without a paddle.
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled.
“Mykal, I am frightened. I am more frightened than I was earlier,” she said and looked to be on the verge of tears. “Do you think I will lose my hands?”
“Na, they ain’t gonna cut off your hands. I was the one who killed that thing. Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna get us outta here,” he said to comfort her, though he didn’t believe his own words. “We’ll have to tell the King that your father is the King of your people.”
“If you think it will help. However, I do not wish for you to take the punishment. Metz believes I killed the beast. I will take the punishment so you may go free.”
“Knock it off, will ya?” He smirked. “You’re coming across like a sappy drama queen. I do appreciate it though.” He winked at her.
“I am not sure what you mean.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at her. “And don’t worry about this guy. I can handle him,” he explained just as they were brought before a large set of double doors.
When the doors were opened they were blinded by light. Sun light, real sun light, poured in from above. His first thought was they had been taken outside and that would make escape much easier. After their eyes adjusted to the light they saw they were still inside the mountains. Mykal’s feelings sank.
“This is amazing,” Mykal said at the sight before them. They stood over a city of Dwarves. There were houses with yards, trees, roads and people, little people, moving to and fro like any normal city. A small lake could be seen in the distance.
Appearance wise, Mykal thought they all looked alike. They were short and stocky with long hair and long thick beards. Mykal stood utterly mystified that Doninka and her people had never heard of these people and didn’t know they existed so close to them. Another world existed inside the mountain.
While they made their downward ascension Mykal realized this city wasn’t surrounded by mountains but rather under the mountains. It looked as if the entire top of the mountain over the city have been removed. Either the mountain had been formed that way at creation or these Dwarven people have been at work for a very long time. He stared at the opening which had to be about five hundred feet high. That wouldn’t be an option for escape.
The stone stairway that wound downward seemed to have a million stairs. Stairs and walkways appeared to go in all directions. Entrances for passages dotted the mountain walls in all directions. Mykal believed there were hundreds of miles of corridors throughout the mountain. That assessment was based on what he saw before him. Outside the mountains seemed to go on forever, so there was no telling how much of the mountains were actually being used by the Dwarves.
“I find it hard to believe such a place exists,” Doninka gawked in amazement. “You came from another world and I find it remarkable. Now I learn another world exists inside my world.”
Under the sun light Mykal saw his captors clearly for the first time. Their skin looked to be a gray, almost a dull silver color flesh. Like normal people all the Dwarves had different color hair and beards, but the tone of their flesh differed from regular skin tone.
They watched all the little people stop to eye them as they were marched into the town like captives of war. The hustle and bustle routine of these industrious people, stopped when they approached. Dwarven people moved closer to get a glimpse of real life bigger people from the outside world.
They had to walk over a bridge that crossed a small river that ran through the middle of the city and back under the wall of mountain. “If it comes down to it,” Mykal whispered to Doninka. “We can steal a boat and take it down river.”
“Where would the river take us?”
“I don’t know? I’m not thinking ahead. I’m just thinking of different plans as we go. Let me know if you see anything that may look like an option.”
Mykal grew anxious as many of the smaller people gathered around to ogle the prisoners. Metz began to put on a show. Metz paraded around them and acted triumphant. He boastfully pointed to his captives while shouting his victor’s chant. He seemed to be bad-mouthing his catch. Mykal feared there would be trouble when the little man with the big reputation walked before them arrogantly making a show of them. Mykal noticed most Dwarves who watched didn’t seem to respond favorably. He wasn’t sure if that would help them later or not.
Suddenly Mykal and Doninka were face first on the ground. Metz had given an order for his soldiers to trip them. Their legs had been pulled from beneath them.
Doninka started to cry.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. I am frightened,” she sobbed.
“Don’t give that creep the satisfaction. Stop crying!” He snapped angrily when he saw Metz laugh at them. Mykal wanted to jump up and shoot Metz in both kneecaps just to cut him down in front of his people and see who would have the last laugh. But he realized if he responded to his embarrassment that would be the death of them. It would definitely ruin his plans for freedom.
While on the ground Mykal caught sight of something that nearly took his breath away. The ground was covered with glass like stones. He wasn’t a gemologist, though his uncle was. His uncle tried to get him interested in the trade before he joined the Air Force. From all the studying he had done prior, he felt confident, at first glance, that these were raw, uncu
t, diamonds. The sizes were staggering. While on the ground he grabbed a handful and stuffed them in his pocket to examine later.
Mykal ignored the laughter of those who gathered around. He noticed there were far more that, not only didn’t laugh, but looked disappointed at their treatment under Metz. Krink said most of the Dwarves didn’t like Metz. Metz continued to taunt them. Per Metz’s orders his men pulled them along roughly.
Mykal and Doninka were led down a street toward a building bigger than all the others in the city. The street they traveled was lined with armed warriors. Mykal concluded they were being led to the King’s palace. Had they been led to the prison the guards would be on the inside not outside. They approached the gates to the fancy building and Mykal saw Metz speaking to a few of his henchmen. The henchmen all laughed. He felt convinced Metz planned to do something to him.
The beauty of this secret city took Mykal by surprise. He could actually smell the pretty scent of flowers. The fragrance filled the air. The land around the palace had been manicured meticulously and there were flowers as far as his eye could see. The colors were bright and vivid. Different colors and sizes sprung up everywhere. The scents had a calming effect on him.
Suddenly his thoughts turned to his friends. He wondered what happened to Towbar, Boris and Sam. Hopefully they escaped the cave-in, got out and are in the process of getting help. Maybe they were crushed to death. Maybe they’re wandering around inside this enormous maze of a mountain. He wondered how long it would be before Kurt and Larry became curious to know when they should return?
Out of nowhere Mykal received a sudden jolting crack to the back of his head that dropped him to his knees, forcing Doninka down with him. Mykal almost faded into blackness. He fought to keep his senses, but everything became a dizzying blur and he felt his head throb. Doninka’s scream made him realize he’d been struck with something hard. Metz had to have hit him!
“Oh man,” he groaned when he touched the back of his head and he felt the flesh had been split. He looked at the blood on his finger tips to confirm it. The pain wouldn’t ease; it only increased, pushing him to the verge of yelling out. He didn’t want to give Metz the satisfaction. “I’m gonna kill that little friggin rat bastard,” he groaned at Doninka. “Damn, that hurts. That really friggin hurts,” he snarled weakly.
