“They will not be in one place,” explained the dwarf with a smile on his face. “Perhaps we should take a walk north after this stream of warriors ends. I will show you how the dwarves defend the mine.”
Morro smiled, nodded and turned away from the doorway. As Karicon’s sleeping chamber was a fair ways from the kitchens, Morro had made it a habit to stuff his pack with travel rations. He sat on the low table and rummaged through his pack for something to eat while he waited. He poured a mug of ale from the small cask on the floor and started to think about the early days of the Dielderal. He couldn’t imagine the elves fighting a well-armored enemy like the dwarves. While the elven archers could strike accurately from a great distance, the armor worn by the dwarves would deflect most arrows.
“The worst place to attack the dwarves is in their mines,” Karicon said, interrupting Morro’s thought. “The best would be out in the fields when the dwarves are traveling, especially in the heat of the day.”
Morro looked at his dwarven friend with shock. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“I would be thinking the same if I was in Elfwoods watching your archers shoot,” smiled the dwarf. “I guess it is natural to think about our troubled past. I would not mind traveling to Elfwoods if I get the chance. I would like to see how the elves live and fight.”
“I would be pleased to take you,” Morro smiled in a friendly manner, “but right now that would be a foolish venture. Could you imagine what might happen if the Federation saw a dwarf?”
“The Federation will see plenty of dwarves soon,” grinned Karicon. “I do not think they will be pleased with what they see. Anyway, I am not afraid of being seen in Elfwoods. Any Federation soldier that sees me will not live to tell about it. I am more concerned about how your fellow elves will receive me.”
“The past history of our peoples is a tragedy,” frowned Morro. “We never should have been enemies in the first place, but people of every race are slow to adapt. I would like to think that my brethren will be as accommodating as the dwarves have been to me. You have really made me feel at home here. Everyone has. I shall be sorry to leave Tarashin when the time comes.”
“Kalina explained the errors of our history,” Karicon responded. “I do not think it was as hard for us to accept it as it might have been for the elves. Since we were enslaved on the Isle of Despair, the humans took the place of the elves as our main enemy.”
“Maybe the dwarves are more forgiving,” sighed Morro. “We have been enslaved for just as long, yet we still considered the dwarves as our enemies.”
“Elves were still being captured until recently,” countered Karicon. “Each new batch of elven slaves reinforced the old hatreds. From what we have learned from Kalina, the empire must have given up enslaving dwarves after King Drak staged our mass suicide.”
“I wish the Dielderal had the guts to do what the dwarves did,” responded Morro. “We have lived like sheep for generations.”
“That time is in the past,” smiled the dwarf. “The Dielderal will not be slaves much longer. Let’s go check our defenses.”
Karicon led the elven thief out of the chamber. They headed north through the maze of old tunnels until they reached the spot where the new tunnel began. Karicon stopped. Morro stopped, wondering why the dwarf had halted.
“What do you see?” asked Karicon.
“This is where the new tunnel starts,” answered Morro.
“And?”
The elf looked around in confusion. Besides the new tunnel and the old tunnel they had just passed through, there were two other tunnels heading left and right. Morro gazed down each one but could see nothing. He shrugged.
“Let’s go to the right for a ways,” suggested the dwarf.
Morro nodded and walked beside Karicon as they turned to the right. Morro gazed ahead at the torch-lit corridor, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary. The torches in the dwarven tunnels were spaced far apart, creating zones where darkness reigned. It was from just such a dark zone that the dwarven voice came forth.
“What are you doing here, Karicon? You and the elf should not be here.”
Morro instantly halted. Karicon stopped after a pace or two.
“Sorry,” Karicon apologized. “We will turn around.”
Karicon was smiling as he turned around. Morro turned and walked beside him as they headed back towards the main corridor. Before they reached the intersection, Karicon halted again.
“Look at the wall on your right,” Karicon said softly .”Do you see the small hole?”
Morro looked at the wall but could see nothing. He shook his head.
“I forgot that the eyes of the elves are not used to being underground,” teased the dwarf. “Step closer.”
Morro moved close to the wall and peered at it. Eventually he noticed a small vertical slit that looked as if you could put four fingers into it. “I see it. What is it?”
“It is a secret door,” explained the dwarf. “On the other side of the door is a narrow corridor paralleling the new tunnel. There is also a flight of steps that leads to a crawl space above the new tunnel. As we walk along the new tunnel, keep your eyes open for slits in the rock face. There will be arrow slits on both side walls, and there will be slits above which can be used for pouring boiling oil into the new tunnel.”
Morro’s eyes widened in surprise. He tried to imagine an enemy trying to make progress through the tunnel without knowledge of the defenses. He was sure the losses would be innumerable.
“Why are you telling me all of this?” the elf asked. “I doubt that King Drakarik would approve of you revealing such secrets.”
“I am a good judge of character, Morro,” smiled the dwarf. “Besides, I like you.”
“I like you, too, Karicon, but there is more to it than that.”
“True,” conceded the dwarf. “I figure it this way. We both know that our peoples have suffered greatly from the false histories. Hopefully we have learned from our past mistakes, but the truth is, if elves and dwarves ever fight against each other again, there will never be another reconciliation. One of our peoples will be wiped out. Perhaps both. I know that I will be a voice of restraint should any dwarf seek such a war. I suspect that you will do the same for the elves. By showing you how hard it is to attack a dwarven mine, I think your voice for peace will be rather loud and stubborn.”
“You are deviously clever, Karicon,” chuckled the elf. “And you are correct. Our peoples must never fight one another again.”
“Let’s proceed to the drilling. I will not expose any more dwarven secrets,” he added with a grin. “You will just have to imagine where the rest of the thousand dwarves are.”
Karicon led the way through the new tunnel, which appeared fairly empty. Every so often there were side tunnels, and Morro envisioned dwarves hiding in the dark zones. When they reached the end of the new tunnel, there was a large chamber carved out of the rock. In that chamber was a large knot of dwarves clustered around the dwarven king. One of the dwarves was on his knees with his face to the wall where the tunnel ended.
“It is forested,” the kneeling dwarf was saying. “I can see some soldiers in the distance, but they do not look alarmed. I do not think they have extended their magical wards to the walls of the valley.”
“As I suspected,” stated the dwarven king. “Without the knowledge that the dwarves still live, there would be no reason for such wards.”
“What do we do now?” asked one of the dwarves. “Do we create an opening?”
“We notify Garth Shado that we have completed the tunnel,” stated the king. “We cannot create the opening without knowing what might be watching.”
“There is a solution to that problem,” offered Morro as he gazed at the hole in the wall.
The dwarven king turned at the sound of the elf’s voice. He frowned at the intrusion, but he nodded for the elf to continue.
“That hole looks large enough for a fairy to get through,” explai
ned the elf. “If there are no magical wards, the fairy can tell you when it is safe to create the opening.”
The dwarves were excited about the prospect of creating the opening, but the king frowned and shook his head.
“I promised Garth that we would not enter the valley without him being here.”
“We would not be entering the valley,” said one of the dwarves. “Only the fairy needs to pass through the hole.”
“What if Garth needs to get into the valley in a hurry?” asked another dwarf. “We could be waiting for days, if there are people on the other side. If the fairy can tell us it is clear now, it would be wise to make the opening while we can.”
“I have already sent Pebble to inform Garth that we were drilling the hole,” retorted the king.
Morro stuck his finger into his pocket and stirred Sparky to life. “I also have a fairy. His name is Sparky.”
“You called?” chirped Sparky as he stuck his head out of the pocket.
The king stared at the fairy for a moment of indecision. Eventually he sighed and nodded. “I can see no harm in creating the opening if the other side is clear, but we will take no chances of discovery by the Federation. We will only proceed if the fairy assures us we can do so without being observed.”
The dwarves smiled at the king’s decision. Morro issued strict instructions to the fairy, and Sparky crawled into the hole. Moments later, the fairy returned.
“The closest soldiers are over one-hundred paces away. There are only two of them. I could put them to sleep.”
“No.” The king shook his head. “Putting them to sleep might alert the enemy to trouble. We will not proceed as long as anyone is within eyesight of the opening.”
The dwarves were disappointed, but they did not argue. The king turned and walked away. The dwarves in the chamber sat down and began enjoying a meal break. Morro and Karicon joined them and shared some of the ale from a keg that had been brought into the chamber. Forgotten during the period of relaxation was the fairy. About an hour after the king had left, Sparky landed on Morro’s shoulder.
“There is no one outside now,” announced Sparky. “Those two soldiers have left.”
“Are you sure?” asked Morro.
“I am a fairy,” retorted Sparky. “Need you ask?”
“Someone inform the king,” said one of the dwarves.
“He has already given his permission,” stated another dwarf. “If no one is within eyesight, we can start working.”
The dwarves excitedly got to their feet.
“Go back outside, Sparky,” instructed Morro. “If anyone comes near, we must be informed immediately.”
“I shall be your eyes,” saluted the fairy.
Sparky disappeared into the hole, and the dwarves began preparations to create the opening. Karicon caught Morro’s sleeve and dragged him away from the working dwarves.
“You seem rather keen to create the opening,” Karicon said. “I understand such enthusiasm from my fellow dwarves as the opening signifies the completion of their task, but why are you in such a hurry?”
“I want to enter the valley,” admitted the elf.
“No.” The dwarf shook his head. “The king will not allow it. He has promised Garth that none of us would enter the valley.”
“And none of you shall,” smiled Morro. “Look, Karicon, Garth cannot just march an army through your opening into the valley. First he needs to know what is in the valley. He needs to know the strength of the army, the number of mages, any defensive fortifications, and anything else that would hamper a battle. Someone has to gather that information, and I am the perfect one for the job.”
“You are an elf,” frowned the dwarf. “If you are sighted in the valley, the soldiers will immediately know that there is an entrance somewhere. A human would be a better choice.”
“No human can move like an elf,” retorted Morro. “A human is more likely to be detected, and I am more than just an elf. I am a thief. I have spent my life avoiding detection. There is no one better for this task than me.”
“King Drakarik will not allow you to go,” stated the dwarf.
“Then he must not know that I am going,” replied the elf.
“Why not just send the fairy?” asked Karicon.
“The valley is vast,” answered Morro. “Even if the fairy was capable of recording every little detail, it would take days to view the images. It will take both me and Sparky to explore it. I will need him to keep watch while I sleep, and he will need me to protect him while he sleeps.”
“How long would you be gone?” asked the dwarf.
“Quite some time,” answered the elf. “If King Drakarik’s map is accurate, the valley is fifty leagues in length and twenty-five leagues in width. I have a gift of speed, so I can go faster than most, but it will still be quite a few days.”
“I don’t like it,” frowned the dwarf. “That is too long to remain in the enemy’s camp. You will never return.”
“My mind is made up,” declared Morro.
“Be that as it may,” retorted the dwarf. “I will not let you go, and neither will any of the other dwarves.”
“I thought you were my friend,” frowned the elf.
“I am your friend,” retorted the dwarf. “That is why I will not let you go.”
Morro stared at his dwarven friend for a moment with deep furrows in his brow. Suddenly his features softened and he smiled broadly.
“Well, you have to admit, it was a good idea.”
Karicon sighed with relief. “A good idea, but not a good ending I fear. I am glad that you have come to your senses.”
“I am still excited about the opening. How long will it take them to get through?”
“These are the best of the dwarves,” Karicon said with pride. “They will be through in a couple of hours.”
“Hours?” Morro said sadly. “I know that is quick, but it seems a long time to wait. Perhaps I will nap for a while. Will you promise to wake me before they are finished?”
“Certainly,” agreed the dwarf.
Morro moved to the side of the large chamber and curled up on the floor. He closed his eyes, but he opened them a moment later to see where Karicon was. The dwarf was helping the other dwarves, and Morro reached for his hourglass. He triggered the device and leaped to his feet. Running as fast as he could, the elf retraced his steps to the sleeping chamber he shared with Karicon. He picked up his pack and raced back towards the end of the mine. Just as the last sands were clearing the upper chamber of the hourglass, Morro threw his pack in the corner and regained his former position on the floor. He watched as the dwarven workers snapped out of their frozen positions and then he closed his eyes for a nap.
A couple of hours later, Karicon woke the elf. “They are through.”
“What happens now?” asked Morro. “They will try it to make sure it works, won’t they?”
“Just briefly.” Karicon nodded. “and they won’t open it all the way. There is no need really. They have done this many times before.”
“Where is Sparky?” asked Morro.
“He comes in every few minutes to report on things in the valley,” answered Karicon. “We will not test the opening until he comes in with a good report.”
A few minutes later the fairy appeared. He reported that everything was still safe outside and prepared to crawl back through the hole. Morro called to him, and the fairy perched on his shoulder. Morro walked away from Karicon while the dwarf was watching the other dwarves make their final modifications. Morro whispered to the fairy, and Sparky climbed into the elf’s pocket.
Morro felt a fresh breeze as the dwarves opened the secret entrance a bit. He triggered the hourglass and grabbed his pack. He dashed to the opening and squeezed through it. He pulled his pack on and raced into the trees.
Back in the mine, Karicon turned towards Morro excitedly, but the elf was gone. The dwarf frowned as he rotated, searching the chamber for his elven friend. The opening closed amid c
heers from the dwarves, and Karicon turned to stare at the secret entrance.
“Where is Sparky?” he asked.
“The fairy?” questioned one of the dwarves. “He is in here somewhere. I was watching the hole, and he didn’t go back out.”
Karicon had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He turned and ran towards his sleeping chamber, hoping to find the elf there. When he entered the room, he was not surprised to find it empty. When his eyes landed on the spot where Morro kept his pack, the pack was gone. Karicon felt ill. He sat on the low table and placed his head in his hands.
* * * *
General Forshire sat outside the gates of Despair. His fairy had reported that Colonel Hardi and a dozen riders would be arriving at any moment, and he wanted to meet them before they entered the city. After waiting for a while, he grew anxious about the gate guards watching him so he rode northward to meet his men. Ten minutes later, Colonel Hardi called a halt to the group. The colonel saluted smartly, and General Forshire urged the officer forward.
“You are right on schedule,” greeted the general. “How far back is the rest of the army?”
“About a day,” answered the colonel.
“There has been a change in plans,” stated the general. “I need a covert force of three hundred in the woods west of here. I would like you to head up that group. The men selected must be among the best and most loyal. The rest of the army will be turning around.”
“Where to?” asked Colonel Hardi.
“I want Colonel Magee to parade them through every city in the Federation,” smiled General Forshire. “Or at least most of the cities. He is to take them up the coast as far as Giza and then up to Olansk. He will continue on to Zinbar. I want the army to be seen, and I want everyone to believe that it is at full strength.”
“So the three-hundred men are not to be missed?”
“Exactly.” The General nodded. “Even I am supposed to be with the full army. I am sure Colonel Magee can cover for me if anyone wishes to speak to me.”
“These men will be among the three-hundred,” declared Colonel Hardi as he nodded towards the men behind him. “Should I leave them with you while I deliver your orders to Colonel Magee?”
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