by Leo deSouza
“Excuse me, noble sir, allow me to ask you, how should I call my new master?” Bagard asked from inside the jail as he raised and came close to the bars. But before getting an answer, he saw something that was worth more than any words.
The little weasel came from inside one of the pockets from the mysterious one’s robe, this one finally revealed himself, he pulled the hood to show who he really was, and what a mixture of surprise and joy Bagard felt when he saw there his old cellmate, the dwarf who escaped.
“Ha!” The man exclaimed. “The greasy dwarf is free! How naughty of a dwarf, I would say I never saw one like you before!”
The dwarf smiled as he approached and opened the cage door with the key in his hand.
Bagard jumped outside to the ground, there he stretched himself and looked around with a large smile that showed all his rotten teeth. “So many years living side by side with you, my friend, dealing with the same cold, the same hard work, the same scolds and the same whipping, my old friend! Montaron!” He spoke.
The dwarf smiled joyful.
“This is a name that will spread among all the Houses, Montaron, the dwarf who escaped! The legend of the greasy dwarf!” The man continued.
Now both laughed in satisfaction.
“What about the big cats? You freed them so all the guards spread on the city to deal with it, nice move, worthy of a thief! Ha! A thief! I did not think I could call you thief one more time, but here is you! Big cats around, loose, who cares about a dwarf? Smart one, I always knew. You have lost much of your weight didn’t you? Well, you have done a choice, better a thin free dwarf than a fatty caged one, right?” The man asked.
The dwarf passed by him and approached the wagon, he took from a pocket a small bottle and leaked its content on the wagon’s floor, it was oil. Then he lit a match on the metal of the wheel and set fire on the oil; in no time the straw was burning, the dwarf came to the ram and untied it, getting distance.
“This is… Odd.” Bagard spoke. “But anyway I don’t think this wagon could bring you anything good, and no one would show up to buy it from you… Actually… It would look quite suspect for you to go around with a jail wagon.”
Soon the fire became high, and a big flame spread heat around, forcing them to get even more distant. They stood there in the field for a long time, watching the jail wagon burn, fascinated with the flames, and even when it finally extinguished for having nothing more to burn, the two observers stood still for some more moments, contemplating the embers and the crackling wood.
“Well… I think this is the end. What now? I believe we have some options from now. First of all, you have a slave, you paid for it and you have it now.” Bagard said.
Montaron reached the ram’s rein out to him. “We are free now.” He spoke.
Bagard replied nothing, he just looked at the small dwarf as his eyes trembled, then spoke quietly: “You bought me to set me free, or maybe just for having a way to escape, it does not matter, my friend, I owe you my freedom, and my life.”
The dwarf shrugged and smiled, the old man bowed to hug him, now both slapped each other’s backs.
“I remember that pair of gloves, but you know what? I think they are a bad omen, I remember when you got them. You got so much more crafty with them, but it soon took you to misfortune, be careful with this.” The old one said.
Montaron was now playing with his weasel as the animal ran on his robe up and down.
“You never told me what you did find inside the coffin you stole.” Bagard spoke.
“Nothing.” Montaron replied.
“Nothing? Ha! Who keeps nothing inside a coffin?” Bagard asked. “You know what? Don’t tell me, my old days of robbing are gone. Whatever… Where are you going now? Back to your kin House? Back to the mountains?”
“Yes, it is.” Montaron replied.
“Then let’s take the road again, one more time, my friend, and maybe we can come back to our glorious days when folks stopped to watch us perform!”
So the pair took the road, walking side by side, towards the east, to the Thick Beard House, the place where Montaron used to live before he went into an ill-fated story that would led him to damnation, crime and slavery. It would be a long journey for him to come back, and during the travel alongside his mate, other dangers would show up, for fugitive slaves were not forgotten so easily. But the fate of this dwarf was different from what he conceived, at the end of his way back home, his path would cross the one from strangers who he would join in the most bracing of the adventures.
T he Narrow passage.
When Thuor’s company left the grove to enter the Narrow Passage, even the captain had no notion that it would reveal such a hard path. As they said goodbye to Kalish and entered that new place, the ambience became totally different, this path was a tight way between cliffs, a canyon that began right at the fields level and went higher as it entered the mountain, a sloping rocky trail close to the cliff, large enough for one to pass at a time, squeezed between the rocky wall and a slit that went deeper and deeper as one advanced though the path. On the other side of the tight canyon, a similar path, so these trails where divided by the slit and limited by the cliffs on its sides. That was the only path connecting the Thick Beards city and the fields on the west side of the Red Moutains, that is why they kept garrisons in the fields, for it would not be possible for an army to cross this passage constantly. There was now no vegetation except for slime and small weeds, the ambience was wet and a drizzle covered all, haze limited the sight and in the sky heavy clouds now covered the sun, everything became dark and cold. The dwarfs walked a long time after entering the passage and were now stepping path ahead as they stumbled on the wet rocks.
“We use to say a dwarf is better stepping on rock than on soft earth, well… I just came to know that some quotes like that are not to be taken literally, I lost the count of how many times I slipped and hit my fingers on these rocks!” Olaf said as he walked bluntly.
Flying near his shoulder came the fairy, Vixen.
“The path is not that bad.” Thuor replied. “It is just that we can’t even see the way ahead…”
“Luckily we developed hard ways since we left our home.” Olaf continued.
“It is like that, my friends, ye better get used to it, the dwarfs who once left the RockFoot Stronghold are not here anymore!.” Torag spoke.
“This is true! I’m not the same for sure.” Rurur said.
“None of us is the same, scars, thicker skin and whitened beards we have now.” Spoke Thuor.
“Why don’t ye sing a song to encourage us, Rurur?” Torag asked.
“Fine!” Rurur said. “I was willing to, and I think I have the most appropriate song of all for this occasion.”
“Then sing it! And let’s hope it will refresh us with new forces.” Olaf said.
Rurur began to sing:
“Clouds in the horizon.
Ground under our feet.
The road ahead is mean,
but together friends can keep.
Wind can blow,
cold can come,
but for those who dares,
the joy will always get ye some.
For a traveler is never tired,
nor is he ever sad,
beyond the mountains lies a reward,
something ye never had.
For the path is the gift
And no journey’s end can be seen.”
“That was the most muzzy of your songs, Rurur.” Torag said.
“And yet very appropriate!” Olaf replied.
Thunder was heard, a strong wind gust channeled through the canyon hit the dwarfs, the first drops of water falling from the sky hit their robes.
“Oh excellent… Kalish said he did not like these clouds, must admit the tricky little one was right.” Torag spoke.
Now a heavy rain began to fall, the wind blew so hard that the water seemed like not coming from above but like being thrown against the dwarfs as they tri
ed to advance. The ambience became even darker, the ram pulled by Rurur stirred and hesitated in going forward.
“Come on Jewelry! Don’t tell me a ram is afraid of walking on a rocky place like this.” Rurur said as he pulled the rein trying to make the animal advance, and he managed to make Jewelry to go ahead, but not without much difficulty.
Even Vixen, the fairy, was having some difficulty to follow her master, Olaf, she came flying against the wind, waving and sometimes being thrown back, till she decided to hold on to Olaf’s hair. The ground became flooded with water leaking from the cliff on their right and even some small rocks began to roll down to the slit. Now no matter how far they looked down they could not see the bottom of the cleft; Olaf walked as he hugged himself covering his torso with his robe, Thuor was as always leading the group, walking fearlessly ahead, looking with caution at the ground and pointing out dangerous places that the others should not step on. Torag was walking vigorously as he scolded and kicked rocks away from the path.
“How much more time, captain?” Olaf shouted against the noise of the blowing wind.
Thuor stopped and looked back to the others. “With the weather like this… It would take us the rest of the day.”
The other dwarfs also stopped walking.
“Day?” Torag broke in. “I think it is already night.”
The captain looked up and around as if trying to find out what time it was.
“Let’s face reality, captain!” Torag continued. “This way either we will end up falling down this slit or die by cold, the more we step up this damn sloping path the more it gets colder!”
“It is true, I think we already climbed many leagues up!” Olaf shouted.
One more time Thuor looked around. “Fine! Let’s look for shelter and wait for the storm to pass!”
The others nodded and then they stepped ahead again, now their clothes were totally wet, and even their beards were weighing down, the path continued always sloping up and was getting more steep. They reached a stretch where it was necessary to climb the rocky way almost crouching, and it got specially dangerous as this part of the path was even narrower. It took some more time for them to reach a really high place, it was the top of this part of the mountain but they could not see the vastness ahead as the storm was still covering everything with clouds and rain. Thuor pointed somewhere as he stopped walking. “There! There is a shelter.” He shouted.
The others looked out and saw a small entrance, like a cave on the cliff at some distance beside them. They hurried to get there and when they did, the quietude inside the cave made them feel like leaving a war field, everyone stirred and jumped to get rid of the water, they started taking their clothes off to dry and squeeze it out, now the dwarfs were wearing nothing but their underclothes.
“How is the firewood, Rurur?” Thuor asked.
Rurur came to the ram saddle and checked there. “Dry like a branch on the sun, it was covered.” He spoke.
“Fine, light a fire and let’s rest here.” The captain replied.
So it was, a bonfire was lit and the dwarfs gathered around it to warm themselves, the ram did the same, but they were not just resting, food and drink were also served and they chatted while the sound of the storm falling outside was heard.
“I would like to stay here till the storm is over, it’s quite a good place to rest.” Rurur spoke as he bit a piece of dry meat.
It was a small cave, a dark place with slime covering its rocky ceiling and walls, but now with the light from the bonfire and the presence of the dwarfs, somehow it became cozy, at least the most comfortable place around.
“Wait till we enter the house of our kin. Ye will see, beer, meat, sweets, adorned halls, music like ye never heard before.” Torag spoke as he rubbed his palms and reached them out to the fire, waiting for his meat to be toasted.
“Ye are right, the worst part is gone, I mean, we went all the way through the fields, now it is all about entering the mountain. I’m looking forward to this.” Olaf replied as he reached a small piece of bread to fairy Vixen who was sitting on his shoulder, the small bright creature refused it, quickly shaking her hands.
“I don’t think she eats the same food as us.” Rurur said.
“Did not ye realize it yet, Olaf?” Torag asked.
“Well… She never asked me for food before.” Olaf replied.
“That is because she does not eat, you fool!” Torag said.
“What she feeds from then?” Olaf asked.
“Who knows?” Torag continued. “Light, maybe.”
“I once heard that these creatures feeds from their master’s love, once they chose one.” Said Thuor.
“Means if Olaf abandon her, she will die?” Torag asked.
“Who said about abandoning her?” Asked Olaf.
“We can leave right when the storm is over, but I don’t think it will dissolve so fast, guess we will need to pass this night here.” Thuor broke.
“This is not bad, I mean, after sleeping without any ceiling above our heads for a long time, this small cave is something comforting for a needy dwarf.” Torag spoke.
“So we are about to enter the so called Underground Path! Means a long covered way, no sky above us, just rock! That seems appropriate, and no Dark Rider flying on beast will bother us there!” Olaf said.
“Not Dark Rider, we must call him Warlock now! Don’t ye remember what Altar said?” Rurur broke in.
“Whatever, the point is we don’t need to worry about him anymore…” Olaf insisted.
“Yes.” Thuor replied. “For now, but still we need to enter the city and talk to the Thick Beards, ask them to allow us to go ahead.”
“I think this will be simple to do, right? There is no impediment for it after all.” Rurur spoke.
“Unless something happened there so serious that they are blocking the passage, though I don’t think such a thing could be.” Thuor said.
“Fine.” Torag spoke. “At the end of the Underground Path is the house of the Steel Fist ones, the toughest of all the houses! Smart, strong and brave they are!”
“And then what?” Olaf asked.
“Then we take the way to the last of the four dwarf houses of the east, the CoalLock, house of lords and nobles. There lays the White Tower on the Golden Peak, where the wise one rests, our final destination.” Thuor said.
“It seems it finally got better. Travelling between friendly houses, and most of the way covered, under the mountain, the worst part is for sure gone.” Olaf spoke.
“What about the underground passage itself? Guess it is a long way, what is there inside?” Rurur asked.
“If ye ask about any danger, Rurur, don’t worry, there is a footbridge all along the path, we will walk on it in safety, no matter what is below.” Thuor explained.
Rurur was now joyful, chewing his meat. “That’s it, I wonder when we finally come back home… Guess what they will tell about us, captain Thuor and his company! Heroes of the East!” He spoke.
“What makes ye think ye turned into a hero? Ye did nothing more than walking, eating and running around when the Warlock tried to kill ye.” Torag replied as he smiled.
“We all ran a lot since we left our home, and sometimes our lives got into serious risk, even ye, Torag.” Thuor said.
“True.” Torag replied. “Ye know what? I think ye are right, now that we are here, I can think about our King rewarding us generously for all we have done, I know it was our duty to come but gratitude is always welcome.”
“There is only one thing bigger than the vastness of the skies in this world, and this thing is Torag’s greed.” Olaf said.
The sound of the wind blowing outside hissed thought the cave, but they were deep and close enough to the fire to avoid the cold. The meal was over and everyone lay down on the ground, their clothes were stretched on the rocky ground to dry, but the dwarfs were not uncovered, they were napping under their sheets and with their backpacks being used as pillows, except for Rurur who was
leaning against the ram’s body as the animal was lying down. From now on they slept, but not before Thuor pointing Rurur to be the first sentinel, even if he himself did not believe any danger could come to the cave through the storm. There the dwarfs passed the night, not waking up till the next morning, as they were all tired of the climbing, and somehow willing to enjoy the rest. When they woke up, they noticed that the fog outside was still dense, though the rain was over, the sentinels always kept the bonfire alight, so the sleeping was satisfactory, and their clothes were now almost dry as they found out when wearing them again.
“Finally.” Torag spoke as he stretched himself. “Going to meet our cousins! They will welcome us with a celebration.”
Olaf smiled and looked at Rurur while imagining the reception. “Yes, yes… But for now a good meal will be enough to calm my homely instincts.”
“No meal for us now.” Thuor spoke. “We are almost reaching the Red Star City and I’m planning to pass as little time as possible in this canyon, ye can eat as we walk.”
Rurur made a vexed expression and after gathering their stuff, the company came out of the cave. The sky was becoming clear again and was just half covered by clouds, the sunlight shined on the wet rocks, rivulets could still be seen coming down the cliff, passing over the path and finally going down the slit toward the deep bottom where now a large stream could be seen running. The path made some slight curves, they advanced as the morning passed, always going up, and as Thuor promised they ate as they walked. When noon came, the sun did not show up, the clouds were again covering all the sky, and a cold wind was blowing, as if predicting the new storm that was about to fall. When the rain finally began, Thuor ordered the others to speed up their step, again the rain came, with all its addendum, wind, darkness and noisy thunders.
