The Eastern Dwarfs: Part Two - The Underground Journey

by Leo deSouza

  “It is true, the beard is a symbol of respect among the Thick Beards, when someone commits infringement, they shave his beard, it is like a sign for a renegade.” Thuor added. “Yes, the crime. Did ye kill anyone, Montaron? Don’t be shy to tell us this.” Torag insisted.

  “I did not kill… I robbed.” Montaron replied.

  “Ah… Robbing is for sure a serious crime. From whom did ye steal?” Torag continued.

  Montaron laughed archly. “He had a big coffin in his house... I… I actually robbed nothing.”

  “Hah! I believe ye!” Torag exclaimed. “No guilt, no regret.”

  “No guilt, no regret.” Montaron replied.

  “Why don’t ye tell us the entire story?” Rurur asked. “Why did ye first leave the Red Star City?”

  “Looking for a job.” Montaron replied.

  “I heard a different story, they say ye had a devious habit.” Torag spoke.

  “They say…” Montaron muttered.

  “It is like that in the Thick Beard realm. They are traditional folks, sons follow the craft of their fathers, a smith’s son will become a new smith, and so on.” Thuor said.

  “Why did not ye follow the craft of your parents?” Olaf asked.

  But Montaron did not answer, Thuor knew he had no family, and his story was still shady.

  “Right, keep on.” Torag continued.

  “I had a good friend, we made good presentations, people stopped to watch us.” Montaron spoke.

  “Presentations, like theater?” Rurur asked.

  “Yes… Like this.” Montaron replied.

  “Go ahead…” Rurur prompted, getting interested in the story.

  Montaron sighed and continued: “I met a man, he told me to take something, from someone’s house, the house of someone rich, I went to his house, and I was caught there.”

  “The coffin, what was inside it?” Torag asked.

  “Did not ye hear him? There was nothing.” Rurur broke in.

  “Nothing. Still they jailed me.” Montaron said.

  “Nothing? That was the most strange thief’s story I’ve ever heard about. Anyway a thief is always a thief, who could blame them for jailing ye?” Torag asked..

  Montaron nodded with a smile.

  “And why ye believed that man? Ye don’t seem the type one who falls into traps like that.” Torag continued.

  Montaron just smiled while shaking his head, like if even he did not know the answer for this question.

  “Then what came?” Olaf asked.

  “The guards gave me to the slave traders…” Montaron continued. “…I went in a caravan towards the Golden City.”

  “Ye were kept a slave?” Torag asked.

  “Yes, as slave.” Montaron replied.

  “What was your job there?” Rurur asked.

  “Mining in salt mines!” Torag exclaimed. “Cropping while being whipped! Being a servant for some rich lord! How much ye got beaten and how much they scolded ye?”

  Montaron shook his head. “They put me in the circus.” He spoke.

  “Ha! Haha!” Torag laughed. “A circus! What is this, a joke? Listen to this, Montaron, the slave jester! The best friend one could ask for, and the biggest taleteller!”

  The other ones laughed as they heard it. Montaron smiled and looked at them all, as if not understanding if it was a simple joke or an offense. But Thuor stood serious. “And the best one when it is needed to escape from trouble, not to say saving his friends from their foes.” He said.

  “Ye are right, captain. I would nominate ye, Montaron, witch hunter!” Torag said.

  The other dwarves agreed, nodding.

  “It is true, we owe ye, Montaron. Now tell us, what was your job about inside the circus?” Olaf asked.

  Now Montaron scratched his head nervously. “Walk on a suspended rope, above big cats.”

  “So ye are telling us, that ye can walk on a rope, not falling, even under the imminence of being devoured by ravenous cats?” Torag asked. “Tell us, Montaron, master jester, witch hunter and skilled thief. How did ye escape?”

  “I passed through the bars.” Montaron replied

  All the dwarfs burst into laughter, except for Thuor.

  “Did they send someone after ye?” Rurur asked.

  “Yes, Black Viper Assassins.” Montaron said.

  One more time everyone, including the captain, stared at him, they looked at the talking dwarf as if finally taking him seriously.

  “The same guild that tried to kills us back on the fields…” Torag whispered.

  Montaron continued his story: “They killed my friend, I hid in a swamp, in a tree, something in the water devoured them.”

  “So how did ye leave the swamp after the assassins were devoured by whatever it was?” Torag asked.

  “I stayed there till the swamp dried.” Montaron replied.

  One more time the dwarfs laughed.

  “All right I think it is enough for today.” Torag said as he walked inside the room. Right ahead of them, something they had already seen, but only now was receiving the deserved attention. The floor was of rock as before, but divided in many tiles, like a chess board, each tile was square and large like five steps of a dwarf, and in each one there was a dwarf rune carved in low relief. Six rows of tiles showed ahead, and in each row eight tiles, no space to circle and go ahead.

  “What now?” Olaf asked as he was about to step on one of the tiles.

  “Wait!” The captain said, holding him. “That might be the puzzle we read about.” He pointed the ground. “There is something written here.”

  The other dwarfs approached to look at what it was.

  Thuor read the inscriptions carved on the rock floor. “Seems like an ancient form of writing runes like we saw before in the maze, written by our ancestors… Here says, only the fair dwarfs shall pass, make your choice at each row, never leaving anyone behind.”

  “Huuum… The puzzle that must be solved in order for one to leave, or enter.” Torag spoke.

  “Solve? How is this about solving?” Rurur asked. “What are these runes on the tiles? What do they say?”

  “This is not made by chance, the ones who did it wanted only dwarfs to pass here, it is like a gate without doors, to avoid anyone else passing. For the first row, there are these eight tiles and in each one a rune.” The captain spoke as he came close and pointed to the first tile at the start of the row. “…The first one says Work, the second says Valor, then Wealth, then Glory, Death, Maturation, then Tiredness and finally Birth.” Thuor had pointed the tiles out one by one reading their runes.

  “And then the same runes fill the next rows of tiles, but in different positions, as I see.” Olaf said.

  Torag was sitting on his own backpack, smoking his pipe. “I guess it is about choosing where to step. Thanks to our captain we now know where to step first.” He said rising and walking ahead.

  “And where would it be?” Thuor asked raising one arm to stop him.

  “Wealth of course!” Torag replied. “I mean, that is the one I would step on first.”

  “How did ye come to such a conclusion?” Thuor insisted.

  “I think one gets the reward according to the rune.” Torag continued.

  “So ye expect wealth just by stepping on a tile on the ground?” Rurur broke in.

  “Well ye can step on the Death one if ye want to.” Torag replied.

  “What happens if we step on the wrong tile?” Olaf asked.

  “Stop with this.” The captain broke in, he stepped on one of the tiles with only one foot and pressed it down. “Seems like it needed more weight.” He spoke, recoiling.

  “Fine, I’m going to stand on one of them.” Torag spoke.

  “Ye are under the effect of the beverage, Torag, and it seems it gives ye much courage but not wisdom.” Rurur said.

  “We must think about it. If it is really a puzzle to be solved, then we must find out which tile to step on first. And considering it can also be a blockage ag
ainst enemies, we must also wonder about what are the consequences of stepping wrong.” Thuor said.

  “I think it is a trap.” Olaf spoke. “One hastily chooses Wealth, like Torag did, then steps on it committing a mistake. It is like a test, to punish the greedy and unwise ones.”

  “That is a fair guess, Olaf, but what is the right one then?” Thuor asked.

  “I think the right choice is to step on the worst of the runes, the death one. One doing it would prove his courage and valor, and be worthy of continuing the journey.” Olaf continued.

  “How poetic!” Torag exclaimed. “Are ye really going to follow this insane line of thought?”

  “Five heads thinking and none of us can get to a damn conclusion! We better think more before acting.” Rurur spoke.

  Now everyone stood silent as they thought, Torag continued smoking his pipe, Montaron was sitting on the ground, feeding his small pet weasel, Ribs. Olaf had his eyes closed, trying to figure out a solution. Rurur was the one more relaxed, somehow he did not seem that willing to make a mind effort, Thuor was the one staring at the tiles, immersed in his thoughts. But as much as they made effort, none came to a conclusion, time had passed and they all began to feel lazy, the sun went down and the light coming from the crack in the rock ceiling began to vanish, the ambience was turning dark.

  “Ye know what, Montaron? I don’t believe in half your story, but I’m glad ye are here with us. Never thought to have such a good storyteller like ye by our side, to make this journey more pleasant, one day I will come to hear your stories about all your life.” Olaf said.

  “Life!” Thuor exclaimed. “That is the answer!”

  All the others looked at him, expecting for more.

  “We did not find the answer yet because we were all thinking by ourselves.” Thuor said. “We must try to think like the ones who made this place.”

  “Fine.” Torag spoke. “How do we do it?”

  “They were bold dwarfs of the past…” The captain continued. “They had courage and ability, but so much effort and difficulties for them brought wisdom.” He now pointed to the tiles as if realizing something. “I think I know the answer.”

  All the other ones came close to hear the captain.

  “Good, I’m looking forward to leaving this place as soon as possible.” Olaf spoke.

  “Right.” The captain continued. “Eight tiles, eight runes, I think the puzzle represents the phases of life.”

  “Then it obviously starts with birth.” Rurur spoke.

  Torag seemed suspicious. “That makes a lot of sense, but the path can be crossed both coming in or out, ye can say we should start with birth and end up in death, but what if we were in the other side trying to get here?” He asked.

  “Then we would start with death, I guess.” Olaf said.

  Torag snorted. “Why not start with death from here, then?... Oh ye know what? Enough of guesses!” He said advancing and then stepped on the tile where the rune said birth.

  Everyone else just watched, at first nothing happened, then the sound of stone scraping was heard, the tile in which Torag was lowered as well as all the others in that row, the dwarf looked back to the others with a smile. “Ye see? Simply simply!” He said.

  “I still think there is something more, it seems too easy this way.” Rurur said.

  “All right, birth first, then what comes next?” Olaf asked. “Maturation, I guess, one must become adult before anything else, like working.”

  “Talk by yourself, I came to work early I my life, and only then got the chance to mature.” Rurur replied.

  “Following your line of thinking wealth would come first for those who are at birth already rich!” Torag said.

  “Maturation is the right answer.” Thuor said, he found the square where its rune was.

  “Come ye all, step on the first lowered tiles, the inscriptions said to not leave anyone behind.”

  The group obeyed, then the captain stepped on the next row, on the Maturation rune tile, one more time the floor lowered, one more row was won.

  “Birth and maturation, it seems that it follows a quite reasonable logic.” Torag spoke again.

  “Good, four to go.” Torag said. “What comes after maturation in one’s life?”

  “Tiredness! That one is for sure.” Rurur replied.

  Torag slapped his nape. “Don’t be stupid, how could someone get tired just by growing up?” He asked.

  “It is true. After maturation one is ready to work.” The captain said.

  Olaf was about to step on the rune that said Work when Thuor shouted: “Wait…” He turned to the other dwarfs and motioned to them. “Come, remember, never leaving anyone behind.”

  The others approached, stepping beside the captain on the last solved row. Olaf then stepped on the Work rune in the next row, again, all the tiles on this row lowered. “Excellent!” He said. “We could start a career as puzzle solvers! Three to go.”

  “That makes no sense...” Thuor spoke quietly.

  Olaf replied: “Of course it does captain, we are doing it the right way and...”

  “No… I’m talking about the tiles...” The captain interrupted. “I think I was mistaken… Each row has eight tiles, each tile has a rune, but there is only six rows, we are already about to solve the fourth.”

  “Maybe there are, extra ones, I mean, more options for one to confuse himself.” Rurur said.

  “Our guesses proved right, let’s just keep like it. What comes after work?” Torag asked.

  “Tiredness. Now I know it is.” Rurur replied.

  “Would be…” Thuor said, thoughtful. “But there is something else that could make sense too… After the work comes the reward, and the reward of work is always wealth.”

  “I’m willing to agree with captain, though I must admit it is getting more difficult.” Olaf said, fairy Vixen was now sitting on his shoulder.

  “We still don’t know what could happen if we go wrong.” Rurur spoke.

  “Maybe nothing, maybe this is just a hoax to scare nosy folks.” Olaf replied. “Ye know what, I’m tired of this, and tiredness seems a good answer!” Now he came to the tile where the tiredness rune was and stepped on it, at first nothing happened, he just looked back to the others smiling.

  All the other dwarfs advanced on the row and stepped on other tiles.

  “Wealth… Wealth… Wait! No!” Thuor shouted.

  Suddenly the tile under Olaf sagged, dragging the dwarf into a deep hole, all the other tiles from the first three rows sagged too, going down and revealing a deep dark pit under the puzzle chess. The group was now stuck on the two tiles at the left side of the hole where Olaf sank, behind them there was the revealed deep pit, and ahead the next row.

  “Where is he?” Torag shouted.

  “He fell in the pit! Olaf is dead!” Rurur said.

  The group became nervous.

  “Keep yourselves! We don’t know what happened to him, and we must take care of ourselves now!” Thuor exclaimed.

  “I knew it! Not tiredness, the right answer was wealth!” Torag said.

  “The wealth tile of this row is on the other side of the hole, it is too long for one to jump over it.” Torag spoke.

  “We are stuck here!” Rurur said.

  Montaron was wide eyed, looking around.

  “Forget about this row, it is done, we must choose for the next one.” Thuor said.

  “Right…” Said Rurur looking to the puzzle. “The answer is for sure tiredness for the next row, but its tile is on the other side of the cave, we can’t step on its row to reach there, we would press the wrong tile, nor can we jump over the hole to get there by the row we are in. We are damned!”

  “I can’t believe we are going to die here. Not this way after all we passed!” Torag exclaimed, vexed.

  But Thuor was the one still calm, he was merged in his own thoughts, despite the jitters. “There are only two last rows of tiles, and yet four choices, tiredness, valor, glory or death…
That makes no sense…” He spoke.

  “What do ye mean captain? Ye think there is still an escape for us?” Torag asked.

  “This is not just a puzzle about wrong or right, there is more than choices here, I think it is also about judgment, maybe there is more than one right answer for one row.” Thuor said.

  “I can’t see how… What could be the next answer besides tiredness? Glory? Valor? Death? Could death come before anything else?” Rurur asked.

  “We don’t know… How could we? Who would risk stepping ahead?” Torag asked.

  “We can’t trust our own decisions now.” Rurur said.

  “That is the point! How could it… Oh…” Torag muttered.

  “What?” Rurur asked.

  “Herm nothing… I mean…” Torag continued.

  “For pity sake, Torag, tell at once!” Thuor broke in.

  “Fine… I think that there is maybe someone who could answer us this…” Torag spoke.

  Now the others looked at him with a mixture of hope and surprise.

  “Yes…” Torag continued. “Let me show ye.” He took from inside his backpack the bottle with the genie inside. “I’m not sure about what I’m doing but, what more could I try? Hope to not regret about this.” He said, then he opened the bottle, releasing the genie.

  A green smoke spread, and from it the genie took form. “Finally I come to meet you again, master.” He said. “It is such a fortunate occasion, though I’m still a little bit confused about why you caged me…”

  “Fine, fine.” Torag spoke interrupting him. “I would like to have another answer.”

  “For sure, what would you like to know now?” The genie asked.

  “What is happening here?” Rurur whispered.

  Torag looked at the other dwarfs stirring his hands in the air. “I will explain later.” He spoke to them. “Now genie, tell me, what could come in one’s life after wealth, if ye had to mind between death, glory, tiredness or valor?”

  “That is a simple question, but there are two possible answers.” The genie spoke.

  “Two? Which ones?” Torag insisted.

  “Tiredness is the answer but valor is always a choice too.” The genie continued.

  Thuor nodded quietly as is confirming what he heard. “That is it, as I was suspecting, valor is something one could have during all his life, no matter what phase of it, it is a matter of choice to be valorous, young or old aged! Valor is the wildcard, it could be the answer for all rows between birth and death!” He said.