Aurvangr stamped on the demon’s head and crushed it. Then, he muttered. “I won’t let that happen.”
◆
Preparations for battle proceeded quickly. The dwarven warriors surrounded themselves in iron, with helmets, armor, axes, and shields.
“We will draw in hell’s demons and kill them all beneath the earth,” the monarch Aurvangr declared. “Let these underground passages be their graves.”
The people and the warriors all obeyed his words, and made preparations to kill the demons. They set up fiendish traps and complex labyrinths, readying for the demon siege.
They finished in only a few days, and once they were done, Aurvangr gathered them in the great hall and gave them an order.
“All of those who are not warriors, and all warriors who are young and inexperienced: leave the Iron Mountains now.”
When the people heard this, there was an outcry. They had been intending to die with their monarch. Did he think of them as dead weight? They wanted to be be allowed to stay.
Despite the din of anger, disappointment, and pleading voices from the crowd, Aurvangr remained quiet. He allowed the people to have their say for a while, and once the roar of the crowd seemed to have lessened, he struck the floor with the end of Calldawn’s scabbard. The sound echoed around, and the din became a murmur.
Having found the right moment to continue, he rested his hands on the end of the sword’s handle, raised his head high, and said, “My people: I am going to die. All the warriors who stay behind will likely die as well.”
Everyone fell silent. Aurvangr’s words were the words of a dying man.
“But we must not permit the death of the Iron Country.” His words were full of quiet determination. “My people: I think of you like my own children, and therefore, it rends my heart to give you such a selfish order. But I must order you regardless: live on!”
The monarch spoke without stopping. “Even if you lose your homeland, and are tarnished with humiliation and regret, I command you to descend the mountain and live on! That is the battle I order of you! You do not run today, you take command over a different battlefield!”
His voice echoed throughout the great hall. “As lord and warriors we shall protect our pride, protect our names, and die in these mountains where the spirits of our ancestors slumber! And you will abandon your pride and put all your being into life! You must never allow the fire of the furnace to die!”
He drew a deep breath, and shouted one more time. “Men, live on! Live and fight! Until we return to glory again! That is my final order!”
Those were the last words the survivors ever heard spoken by the Iron Country’s final ruler.
He took the warriors and left the great hall, and after readying themselves for their battle, they confronted the tremendous demon army and the ancient dragon without fear. Every one of them fought valiantly, and every one of them died.
The dwarves who went down the mountain and the warriors who were protecting them lost their homeland, and they became a wandering people. They crossed to the north with many refugees, living lives full of suffering and humiliation. But in spite of it all, they grit their teeth, kept the words of their lord in their heart, and for the next two hundred years, some as craftsmen, others as mercenaries, they survived.
◆
“That is our secret, the tale passed down among the people of the Iron Mountains,” said the bald dwarf Agnarr, his face flushed red from alcohol. “I wasn’t born at the time. As for Grendir...”
Grendir, the white-haired dwarf, was crying. It was probably half because he had some strong firewater in him, but even so, he really was a mess of tears.
I had asked them if they would talk to me about their past, and they had quietly nodded and told me their story.
“I... We had only just been appointed warriors to the king at the time...” Grendir snivelled like a child. “We couldn’t even fight beside the warriors who came before us... We just had to obey the order and... run away with the others...” He broke into sobs. Agnarr watched over him uncertainly.
Eventually, he continued. “And that was not easy. It was cold... and too hard a journey for the children... Oh, the children... They kept dying. There was a bright boy, always smiling and urging everyone around him to keep going, and he became increasingly exhausted, until even a smile was more than he could muster... He was a shell of himself, and then a cold was all it took, he stopped moving, even, and... just died. He died on my back as I carried him!”
The long train of refugees suffered random attacks by lone demons. There was dissension over their scarce food supply. And even when they reached a town, there were more of them than the towns could handle. It was the same when they crossed to the north; they were just one group of many in the same situation, and found it very difficult to find jobs.
“I no longer remember how many died. Slurping mud and gnawing on tree roots wasn’t the worst by far. Young women sold their youth for bowls of porridge for their children. Some of the men who couldn’t stand by any longer turned to thievery and were beaten to death for it. We were skin and bone, reduced to begging...”
I quietly listened to him talk and realized that the dwarf-lord’s bravery and the people’s anguish had already brought tears to my eyes.
“And yet we lived... We lived. We overcame that age of chaos and lived through the next two hundred years. Somehow, we lived through...” Grendir spoke quietly. “And then you, William, you returned this land back to the hands of people. Not only that, you even cry with us.”
Grendir gazed up in the direction of the Rust Mountains—no, the Iron Mountains.
“Someday, we’ll be able to go back. Someday, we’ll be able to return it all to the way it was. Someday, we’ll be able to achieve what our ruler ordered...” His voice was shaking. “How precious a thing it is to be able to believe that... How grateful we are...”
As Grendir thanked me over and over, he slowly fell into an alcohol-induced sleep. He had been downing drink after strong drink to help him talk about his painful memories, so it was only natural.
“Grendir must have been happy to bare his heart to someone,” Agnarr said, smiling. “That is our history. I hope you can understand.”
“Thank you so much. That must have been incredibly difficult for you both.”
“You’re welcome.”
There were a few more words to wrap things up, and then I departed Agnarr’s mansion.
I had been so engrossed in their story of the past as we all drank together that I hadn’t noticed how much time had gone by. When I got outside, it was already evening. The dwarves had finished their work and were either returning to their houses or stopping by taverns.
As for me, I was doing a lot of thinking. I thought about those mountains of iron, the dwarves who were left behind, the feelings of the then-monarch Aurvangr. I thought about Blood, Mary, and Gus, who had lived during that time; the fearsome High King; and the Union Age, when the world was prosperous and peaceful. I also thought about the Lord of Holly’s prophecy.
And as I walked aimlessly with my thoughts wandering over all these things, it suddenly occurred to me how dark it had gotten. It was already nighttime. Because there weren’t many lights here, night was a lot darker in this world than in my past one.
As I stood confused in front of a row of nondescript houses wondering what street I was on, the light from a tavern caught my eye. I decided to walk over. I was sure that if I got a look at the sign hanging outside, I’d at least be able to figure out what street this was. This “city” was small enough for that to work.
Then, I heard some kind of commotion and the sound of someone being punched. Was there a tavern brawl going on? I quickened my pace, and someone came crashing backwards out of the door to the tavern. I hurriedly caught him. His braided black hair fluttered.
“Oh!”
It was that dwarf who had come to see my morning training. He looked like he had been badly beaten.
&
nbsp; ◆
After catching him, I froze for a second in surprise. He looked surprised as well, but recovered before I could. Ducking a quick bow to me, he went straight back into the fray inside the tavern, yelling out, “Stop this!”
It only took a short glance to tell me most of what I needed to know about what was going on inside. The tavern was a mess of tipped-over tables and chairs, and two male customers, both human, were in there having a fight. They both looked like pretty muscular craftsmen, and their faces were red. They probably had a lot of alcohol in them already.
“Ahh! Stay outta this!”
“This ain’t got no’n’a do with you! Bug off!”
The two of them started getting heated, breathing heavily, stinking of booze. The other patrons were either watching from a distance and trying not to get involved, or deliberately fanning the flames from the sidelines. The young tavern girl looked troubled.
“Please, stop, I said!” The dwarf was trying to physically separate the two of them, but he wasn’t very good at it. In fact, he was just getting thumped and shoved away without any effort. I couldn’t really understand it. He looked strong enough to me from where I was standing.
Then it clicked: he wasn’t used to physical fighting. He was timid, and the way he moved showed he was afraid of hurting either of them, which put the craftsmen who were used to fighting and committed to their punches at an obvious advantage.
In this dangerous age, it was unusual to see someone so unused to fighting. With his muscle and physique, the dwarf could just grab hold of one of them and squeeze as hard as he could, and it would be pretty effective.
“You want a fight, I’ll give you a fight!”
“Sto—pmfh?!”
Ouch. That looked like it hurt.
There was a reason, by the way, that I was just standing by and watching: no one had yet drawn any weapons. This wasn’t the peaceful society of my previous world; here, it was the norm for even craftsmen to keep at least a dagger with them on their belts or hidden in an inside pocket. They hadn’t drawn those, and what’s more, they weren’t getting violent against anyone else. In other words, though the people here may have been getting riled up, they were all exercising at least a minimum of restraint by this world’s standards.
“Do it outside, you’re disturbing the other—gmf!”
“Just shut your piehole!”
“Butt out already!”
I thought I should probably just watch for a little longer. The dwarf was doing his best to keep them off each other, after all, and they probably had a reason for fighting. If I, the liege lord, stepped in all of a sudden, it would just make everything into a big deal and—
“Gaaaah—Hey! Hold this guy down for me!”
“Yeah, let’s shut him up. Then it’s back on!”
And then, confusingly, the two who’d been fighting started teaming up. The dwarf kept coming back to stop them no matter how many times they punched him, so it seemed they’d come to an agreement on removing him first. I started to wonder if the two of them weren’t usually on pretty good terms.
“Get down and stay down!”
One of them grabbed him around the neck, while the other started kneeing him repeatedly. I thought this had probably gone far enough now. I didn’t mind when it was just two men fighting each other bare-handed, but I couldn’t stand for them ganging up on someone else.
“Let’s stop now, all right?” I said, stepping into the tavern.
“Huh?! Who as—”
“Not another...”
The two of them turned to look at me and completely froze. Both their mouths hung open. The patrons who had been cheering them on did the same.
“Let’s stop now. I can’t continue to overlook this.”
The color instantly drained from their red faces. See? This is why I wanted to avoid this... Oh well.
“I have no intention of making a big deal out of this. You’ve just had a bit too much to drink, that’s all. Am I right?” I looked each of them in the eye, seeking an answer. They just nodded repeatedly. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anyone nod so hard. “Then why don’t you just say sorry to the people here, go home for today, and hit the hay? Don’t worry, I won’t make anything of this.” I smiled.
The two of them cringed—I had no idea why they were so terrified—and started apologizing to the dwarf and tavern girl with incredible energy. The exhilaration and headiness of alcohol felt very empty once you sobered up.
“We caused you all this trouble...”
“Should never’a let the drink get the better’a us!”
Apologizing profusely, they left behind money to compensate the tavern for the trouble they’d caused, and then they cleared off together. So they had come here together. They were probably usually good friends.
They left behind them the worn-out dwarf, the stunned barmaid, and the rest of the patrons. Now what was I to do about this...
◆
The dwarf had been hit a few too many times and seemed to be feeling groggy, but he soon came around. Specifically, after I settled everyone down, he came to before I had a chance to cast a resuscitation blessing on him. He was a tough one.
“Oh...” He looked round and round and then, as though grasping the situation, he bolted to his feet. “Tha-Thank you for...!”
“Hold on, hold on.” I stuck my palm out against his forehead and stopped him from bowing. “Your face and head were hit quite a lot. You shouldn’t make sudden movements like quickly standing up or lowering your head.”
“Oh... Okay...”
I explained to him that even when it didn’t look like much, damage to the head could lead to situations that were no joke. He seemed to calm down after that. I got the tavern girl to bring him a chair, and sat him down. “Also, a washcloth, chilled with well water or something, please.”
“Yes, sir!”
I realized there were far fewer patrons here now. It made sense. They’d come to the tavern on the way back from work, planning to gripe and let loose a bit, and were just having a good time watching a fight that had broken out when suddenly the liege lord had wandered in and shut it all down. Anyone who wanted to stay out of trouble would obviously find another place to drink.
I reflected on the trouble I’d caused the place as I spread out a hand in front of the dwarf’s hazel eyes. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Three.”
“All right, that’s good. Do you feel queasy or cold? Any headaches?”
“Nothing.”
“What’s your name?”
He fell silent for a moment, as if deciding what he should say, and then finally spoke. “Al.”
Al wasn’t a very dwarf-like name. They usually sounded rougher and used a lot of voiced consonants. It might have been a nickname or something.
“Al. Okay. You might already know, but I’m William. Nice to meet you.”
“I-It’s very nice to meet you, too.”
He wasn’t having any trouble responding, and I couldn’t see any dangerous symptoms like arm or leg convulsions or non-stop nosebleeds. I’d have to see how things went, but for now he didn’t seem to have any problems. Still...
“I’m amazed there’s so little wrong with you after being punched about and even repeatedly kneed like that.”
“Toughness is my strong point,” the black-haired Al said, smiling.
Benediction wasn’t something to just use whenever I felt like it, so it was always better if regular treatment could do the job. I gave my thanks to the tavern girl and held the wet washcloth against the places where he’d been hit. “One more thing. Where’s the tavern owner? I’d like to apologize for adding to the disturbance.”
“Oh, my father is... laid up at the moment...” The tavern girl broke my gaze and looked at the floor sadly. So that was why this place was so unruly right now.
“Do you want me to take a look at him?”
“I, I would never dream of asking so much of you, sir...!”
> Being in a position of importance really was frustrating.
“I don’t mind. My god would be angry with me if I knowingly abandoned a sick person. And a paladin can’t afford to be forsaken by his god; that wouldn’t even make for a good tragedy in this day and age.” I shrugged jokingly, and the tavern girl’s expression softened as well. “Once he heals up, I would encourage him to pay a visit to a place of worship and make an offering.”
“Y-Yes, of course...!”
“All right, then, Al. I’ll be right back, so please just rest there.” I made my way to the tavern’s living quarters.
◆
The tavern owner’s illness wasn’t that big a deal. It was just a stubborn skin disease. But since it affected how he looked, it was understandable that he couldn’t come into the tavern. He had to consider the impressions it gave the patrons and the rumors that might spread.
I placed my palm against the affected areas and prayed. It cleared up immediately.
“Ohh...”
“Thank you so much... Thank you so much...!”
“The god of the flame gave me this power. So please, show your appreciation to her,” I laughed.
“U-Um, what about... payment or... donations... or...”
“Lots and lots, please.”
“Huh?”
“Lots and lots of appreciation. Give only the money or things you can spare; all I ask is that whatever you give is full of feelings of gratitude for the god of the flame.”
The father and daughter laughed at my bad joke.
This was something Bishop Bagley had told me a long time ago. If you didn’t seek payment for healing people, ultimately, not paying would become the default, and the entire priesthood would feel the squeeze. Sentimentally, I wanted to heal people for free, but priests couldn’t survive on air alone any more than anybody else, so I could see that it was necessary to seek at least a little in return.
“In that case, why don’t I cook something for you? Right now, if you want!”
“Father’s cooking is really good!”
“Oh, wow, I’d love that. As it happens, I skipped dinner today by accident...”
The Lord of the Rust Mountains Page 8
