by Sam Ferguson
On this particular day, Kamal had finally gotten what he had asked for many times in the past, to accompany Reu and his best scouts on one of their reconnaissance missions. Whether Kamal had finally worn the chieftain down, or Reu had decided the Tarthun women were not much of a threat and therefore it was finally acceptable to bring a Krilo along, he couldn’t tell. Then again, he didn’t really care. The important thing was that he was here, right now, lying on the ground and peering through the thick grasses with the other scouts. For a brief few moments, Kamal could pretend that he was on some sort of adventure, that his actions might one day be written down and spoken in hushed circles like the great deeds of dwarf warriors of the past.
Kamal and the scouts watched for about an hour as the Tarthuns finished packing their boats, and then took to the sea. When they left the shore, nothing had been left behind except for a single doll made of wood that one of the children had dropped. The sounds of women shouting out the rowing cadence mixed with the rush of the wind overhead and the crying babies being rocked back and forth by their mothers. The sounds could be heard right up until the figures disappeared from view and sailed on out into the middle of the Inner Sea.
“Well, that’s that, then,” Reu said decisively. “The Tarthuns have fled. They will bother your people no more.”
Kamal smiled and nodded, happy to hear that the fighting would finally stop. “Peace be upon us all, as Interis Aruhat wills it,” he said with a bow of his head to the earth. The other scouts rose from their hiding spots and brushed themselves off. Reu and Kamal led the walk back toward the dwarven halls in the mountains. Preparations for a feast had already been underway when the scouts had set out, and now Kamal was certain the celebration would be extended several days. He could hear the other scouts whispering back and forth, spitting on the ground as they cursed the Tarthuns.
Reu, on the other hand, was quiet.
Kamal stopped and looked back to the water then, and a strange thought came to him.
“What is it, boy?” Reu asked.
Kamal shrugged. He couldn’t be sure, but he felt as if someday soon there would be new boats upon the waters. “Are there more Tarthuns beyond the Inner Sea?” he asked.
Reu and the scouts stopped to regard him.
The dwarf chieftain nodded. “There are indeed,” he replied. “Though I doubt they will come back. With their men folk gone, these Tarthuns are likely going out to look for a new tribe to assimilate into. They will take new husbands if they can find Tarthun males willing, and forget their lives here.”
“But they could just as easily gather the other tribe and come back for revenge, could they not?” Kamal asked.
Reu frowned and nodded once. “I suppose they could come back, if they wanted, but it would not be easy. To enter or leave this great valley, one must travel through the Dragon’s Throat, a treacherous cave several miles long that is carved under the mountains by the river flowing out from the Inner Sea. I imagine many of the Tarthuns will not survive their exodus. Those that do would be reluctant to return through the Dragon’s Throat.
“Those peoples who come through the Dragon’s Throat do so only because they have exhausted all other options. I suspect this tribe of Tarthuns was running from wars they could not win beyond the mountains. Your people came here as refugees as well. Barring that, I doubt any others would seek entry. There is no glory to be won here for most folk, and we’ll put a stop to anyone foolish enough to come looking for the Krilo. You have my word on that. As long as I draw breath, the Krilo are protected.”
Kamal smiled and looked to the other scouts. The expressions on their stern faces showed the same determination as Reu. Though he couldn’t put the nagging feeling out of his mind entirely, Kamal suppressed it as best he could and the group resumed walking back to the mountains.
They walked for several hours before they came to one of the tunnels that led into the deeper caverns. Normally, members of the Krilo race would enter from a specific tunnel to the south of here some forty miles, but Kamal was allowed entry here without so much as a second glance from the two guards who stood outside the stone door.
As Reu approached, the guards jumped toward the great door and spun it upon a central axis. The air inside the tunnel was cool, and slightly damp, but not moldy or musty. Carvings of dwarves sailing upon long boats with dragon heads carved into massive figureheads above the prow lined the wall on the left side. Dwarven runes were etched into the stone above the carving. Kamal could not read the runes, but Reu had told him before that they told of the first migration of dwarves across the Inner Sea.
There had been five dwarf clans in the beginning. Two settled in the mountains, coming in through the Dragon’s Throat and widening the tunnel to accommodate dwarves on foot. The other three clans sought to spread out and explore the vast valley, each seeking the tallest mountain to make their home. Two clans spread out across land, one along the eastern shore of the Inner Sea, and the other across the western shore. The last clan proved the bravest. They cut down trees and made long boats to cross the Inner Sea, suspecting that since the river flowing from the Inner Sea ran northward, they would find the tallest peaks in the south.
Reu’s ancestors sailed the Inner Sea and landed at the very shore from whence Kamal and the others had watched the Tarthuns depart earlier that day. From there, they forged southward until they had come to this very cave. It had been small then, a den with a large bear inside. The dwarves cleared the den and had begun carving their life out of the mountain.
The further Kamal and the others walked along this tunnel, the more carvings there were in the walls. The pictures showed everything. The clan mining their way through the mountain, fighting strange beasts that inhabited the inner corridors of the mountains, and eventually building their homeland, and crowning their king. Reu was the last in the original line of kings that had established this area. Of the five original clans, only three remained. The two that had settled in the northern parts of the mountains, and Reu’s clan.
The others had perished, though no one knew for certain what had befallen them.
Kamal, being a seeker of wisdom and knowledge, was always captivated by the carvings in the walls. Each time he saw them, he learned something new, or had thoughts that led him to new theories about the past. Once he became a Hetdieverbond, he hoped to gain access to Reu’s library and learn the language of the dwarves. From what he understood, the dwarves had only begun speaking Peish after the time of the Great War, though neither Reu nor any other dwarf would tell him why that was. It was the one question that had offended Reu, and so Kamal had only ever asked it once.
As the group wound their way through the tunnels for another two miles, Kamal found his thoughts drifting all over various subjects, but failing to land on any particular topic for longer than a few seconds. He didn’t come out from this state until they left the entrance tunnel and entered into the grand antechamber referred to as the King’s Hall. It was the place where that first ancestor of Reu’s had been crowned, the place where he had set his axe down and declared the dwarves had found their home.
The chamber was a perfect cube. Not only was it one hundred yards long and wide, but the ceiling was one hundred yards above them. Great, round columns stretched high to bridge the gap between floor and ceiling. Torches hung from each of the columns, offering light to the chamber, but even they were not enough to give more than a hint of what the ceiling looked like. At the far end of the chamber was a great set of brass doors, an exquisite example of dwarven handiwork. Each door was ten feet wide and twenty feet tall. On the outer face of the door on the left was a great carving of a mighty dragon. On the right was a carving of Icadion, the greatest of the Old Gods. Kamal thought it curious that any dwarves would revere Icadion, as he had left Terramyr after a period of time, and closed the world off from his heavenly realm, Volganor.
That was why the Krilo had turned to Interis Aruhat those many years before. She was not a goddess in the true
sense, but she was the being with the greatest wisdom and enlightenment that the Krilo had access to.
The dragon on the other door was not Interis Aruhat, however. It was Hiasyntar Ku’lai, the Father of the Ancients. Among the Krilo people, Hiasyntar Ku’lai was highly respected, and regarded as one of the greatest beings to inhabit Terramyr. However, he had never manifested himself to the Krilo, and Interis Aruhat had.
At the base of the doors stood four dwarves. Instead of armor, they each wore white robes. None of them had any weapons either. It was said that one day a dragon lord would come to their people, these four waited for that day.
As Kamal and Reu passed through the grand chamber, the four dwarves turned and took hold of the massive chains resting at their feet. As they pulled, the brass doors opened. Through the massive portal, Kamal could see that the feasting had nearly begun.
Jugglers caught his eye first, as they were standing near the door and practicing for their performances. When they saw Reu, they stopped practicing and bowed low until he passed. Beyond them was a commotion unlike Kamal had ever seen before. Many tables had been brought into the chamber and were laden with various kinds of meat, fruits, vegetables, and breads. Many dwarven women were rushing about with mugs of what Kamal assumed to be ale, as the dwarves were fond of drinking the stuff. Male dwarves were busy bringing in large platters with roasted boars and deer.
“We shall eat well this day,” Reu said as he turned to the scouts. “Go on, join with your friends and families.”
Kamal and Reu had barely descended the stairs when they were joined by Gauer. The red-haired dwarf bounded up to them quickly and gave only the slightest of nods of his head instead of a bow.
“What word from the front?” Gauer asked.
Reu smiled wide. “The word is that there is no more front. The Tarthuns are leaving. Sailing across the Inner Sea toward the north. I doubt we shall see them again.”
Gauer nodded pensively and then looked to Kamal. “You took a Krilo with you?” he asked.
Kamal stiffened just a bit. There was always something about the way Gauer spoke of the Krilo that rubbed him the wrong way. There was no outright disdain, but there was always an underlying tone to Gauer’s voice that made it clear he thought little of the peaceful people.
“Kamal wanted to learn about our scouting missions, I saw no harm in it.”
Gauer arched a brow, but he didn’t refute Reu’s words. “Your place has been prepared. Also, this one’s father is here. They brought the tribute a few hours ago. It has been added to the feast.”
“Good!” Reu said with a smile. “I shall like to speak with Raimund. Come, Kamal, let us go and find your father.”
“I will ring the gong,” Gauer said. He then turned and walked briskly through the tables and busy workers to reach a large, brass gong on the west side of the room.
“Are you sure he is supposed to be the next chief?” Kamal asked bluntly.
Reu laughed. “Gauer is a good dwarf. He will come around in time. Besides, I shall probably outlive you anyhow, so don’t worry about Gauer.”
Kamal nodded, but the sour look that Gauer shot him from across the room gave him little comfort.
The two found Raimund standing behind the chair two places to Reu’s right, with one place setting between them. Reu greeted Raimund with a hearty handshake and then motioned for the tall Krilo to sit before he moved on to his own place at the table. The place setting between them was for Feryn, Reu’s wife. Not that she would be joining them. Feryn had tragically died during the birth of Reu’s son. Still, Reu had never remarried, nor had he ever held a feast where her place was occupied by anyone else. The servants would always pour a full glass of ginger beer, a favorite beverage of the late Feryn, and set two red apples upon the plate, as apples had been her favorite thing to eat.
There were rumors about how Reu disposed of the food, but the truth was that no one was allowed to see what Reu did with the plate or the drink. At the end of a feast, Reu would usher everyone out, and then he would spend the night in the hall alone. In the morning he would be found in his chair and the food and drink set for his late wife would be gone. Most assumed Reu simply consumed it himself, but Kamal had caught a hint of something more than that once, when Reu had talked about one particular feast a few years back. The young Krilo had been dying to sit around a feast ever since and see if his suspicions were right.
Kamal would sit at his father’s right, a total of three spaces to the right of Reu. Gauer would start the feast, and then move to sit at the place setting to Reu’s left. All the other place settings were changed each feast, Krilo and dwarves taking turns and moving to sit in different groups. With all the fighting that had been going on lately, they had had fewer feasts this past year. They commemorated the winter solstice, the first day of spring, and would certainly also feast on mid-summer’s day as well as the day of harvest, but none of those occasions in the past had had nearly as much food as this one. This was a special day indeed.
The gong rang out, echoing through the chamber several times.
“Tonight,” Gauer began, “we celebrate the end of the war with the Tarthuns!”
A cheer rose up in the hall that nearly deafened Kamal.
Gauer pointed with is right hand toward Reu. “Our chief informs me that the last of the Tarthuns have taken to the Inner Sea and fled to the north. It is over, we have won. There shall be peace at last for the dwarves!”
A second cheer rose up.
Kamal saw his father clap three times. For Raimund, that was a great display of cheer, for he was not given to much laughter or large displays of excitement. He said they distracted from his calling as the leader of the Krilo. Raimund smiled, of course, but he did not join in the boisterous cheers and shouts the dwarves let out. The other Krilo present in the chamber acted similarly, smiling and nodding, congratulating each other and the dwarves around them with happy handshakes, but none of them cheered outright. For once, Kamal showed less excitement than even his father.
Kamal was stuck on the fact that Gauer did not extoll the newly won peace as being for both Krilo and dwarf. He had said the dwarves were to enjoy peace. What had he meant by the omission? Moreover, why hadn’t any of the other Krilo taken notice of Gauer’s words? Gauer was met by many ecstatic dwarves as he made his way to the table. Kamal caught a glimpse of Gauer’s face as the dwarf sat down. The red-headed dwarf’s smile seemed to fade just a little when Gauer’s brown eyes met Kamal’s questioning gaze.
“To peace!” Reu said as he lifted his mug and stood in his chair.
“To peace!” the dwarves and Krilo echoed as they lifted their mugs in turn. Then the hall went silent as they all put their mugs to their faces. Kamal had heard that in human societies, such things were called toasts, and were to be sealed with a sip of one’s drink. However, in the dwarven chambers, the tradition was slightly different. Like with a toast, there would be a congratulatory exclamation or some sort of well-wishing statement made, but instead of sealing it with a sip, the dwarves poured their entire drink into their mouths. Any who could not finish in one go, were said not to gain the benefit or blessing from the toast. Although, it was more than acceptable to spill a bit of the drink onto one’s face, so long as the contents of the mug were emptied before the drinker came up for air.
Unlike the other adults in attendance, Kamal had been given ginger beer, which had a kick to it that made it a bit more difficult to down than the ale that his father and other Krilo had to drink, but he managed all right. As a whole, the Krilo were not given to drinking much, for it was said to dull the mind if imbibed without moderation. Kamal had tried ale once, but had found that it made him sick to the stomach, and so he was given ginger beer.
Gauer had made fun of Kamal on that day, but it had had the opposite effect on Reu. The dwarf chief told Kamal that his late wife had never been able to stomach ale either, and seemed pleased to share her favorite drink with Kamal. The dwarves were exceedingly good
at crafting ginger beer, which had no alcohol in it, despite the name. It had quite a spicy bouquet to it, with an aftertaste that often burned the back of the throat ever so slightly. It was sweetened with honey and a hint of sugar, which made for the perfect mix of sweet to soften the ginger. However, the ginger was grown only in one place in the valley, and that made it a very expensive drink, so ale was the order of the day whenever there was a large feast.
The workers scurried around the large hall, refilling everyone’s mugs as quickly as they could. While they did so, Reu took a large cut off the boar set before him and began eating. Immediately afterward, all the other tables took from the platters and trays in front of them. Kamal took a round roll made from split wheat as well as some raisins and asparagus to start. He buttered the roll heavily and then pushed his raisins into the side of the roll before taking a large bite. As a lovely blonde-haired dwarf refilled his mug, Kamal thanked the stars that the dwarves did not traditionally hold more than one toast at a feast. According to Kamal’s father, the humans beyond the mountains could toast each other for an hour or more. If the dwarves ever caught onto that part of the tradition, Kamal would have to excuse himself early on, or else suffer being stuck in a room full of drunk, loud dwarves.
There was a lot he loved about their culture, but get a group of dwarves drunk together, and it was almost sure to end in a fight. Or worse, endless rounds of shouting and wailing that they would call singing.
As the evening wore on, a few dwarves did in fact imbibe a little too much and begin caterwauling. Fortunately, Reu sent a few of the stewards over to escort the drunk dwarves out of the hall before it got too bad.
Jugglers and dancers came to entertain the group. Music was played loud and boisterous, just the way the dwarves liked it. Kamal enjoyed it as well. It was a lot more fun than his dinners at home. Raimund wore an expressionless face for most of the dancing, however. He found the outfits the female dwarves wore to be distasteful because the shirts were made of thin material and failed to cover their midriff. Kamal turned a little more to the side, so his father wouldn’t see when he smiled. Kamal loved the dancing and the juggling, especially when they combined their displays and lit the juggling pins on fire. The dancers would gyrate and move in the middle while two, or sometimes as many as eight jugglers would flank the sides and toss burning pins over the dancers’ heads. It was quite a sight.
