by deSouza, Leo
“So, captain. Do ye have a plan for us about the journey? How much time walking and how much rest?” Olaf asked.
Thuor took some time before answering. “Wake up as the sun rises, for it is not safe to walk at night, mostly, depending on where ye wander. Breakfast time, travel again until noon, lunch time, travel again until middle afternoon, a brief rest, then travel again until sunset, dinner time, then sleeping time.”
“Like marching military!” Torag exclaimed.
“I’m actually not sure if we are going to follow this procedure. But yes it is, and ye will be like military while under my charge.” Thuor replied.
“I’m already one.” Torag spoke.
Thuor gazed over his shoulder as he pointed back his thumb to Olaf and Rurur.
“What about the turns?” Who will be the first watch while the others sleep?” Rurur asked.
“The one who talks more and makes more questions.” Torag replied.
Now the captain took a small hourglass from a pocket in his backpack and passed it to Rurur, reducing step. “One of these. Then ye can sleep while other one watches.”
As the group advanced the landscape changed into a vast gap, at the right they could see the vastness of the eastern lands and on the left the Red Mountains range, beyond it a blue sky with scattered clouds and the mystery of even further lands to the east part of the world. Grass covered the fields around them with a light brown tone, some orange on points where the grass was virgin, and there were no other living being except for some sparrows flying around. There was a hot but comfortable wind and the noise of it on the tree leaves gave a pleasant mood, one could see the four dwarfs travelling along the road from far as the falling leaves flew in the air and the grass shone in the sunbeams. The sun had already gone a little higher when Rurur started singing.
“Step on their heads.
Drink their blood.
Cut their pride by its roots.
And sing our victory in filled verses.
For one more time we are victorious.
Over our worthy enemies.
There is no match for the eastern dwarfs.
Among all the houses.
We are the toughest ones.
Not the men in their large dwellings above the earth.
Nor the elves in their green wooden palaces.
We are the ones.
That no one dare to face.”
“This is for sure, and this is why we live in peace, for no one dares to threaten us.” Olaf said.
“We live in peace, because there are no goblins in large numbers like in the west to form an army here, and because we do have a good diplomacy with the eastern men, and this is why there is peace, it is not by fear that we infringe on our neighbors, but by the wisdom of our kings.” Thuor spoke.
“And that does not mean we are not to be feared, from the deep of our halls can come a vast army of dwarfs to fight with a wild frenzy.” Torag added.
“We are long accommodated deep inside our caves and halls, mining and partying as if the world did not exist out here.” Thuor continued.
“And how better could it be? No one can enter our fortress, we can just stay there and watch the world find his doom, if we want so.” Torag continued.
“No. Times are changing fast… The dwarfs can not hide forever, sooner or later war will hit us all.” The captain said.
“But war is far from here.” Rurur spoke entering the conversation.
Thuor turned his torso to talk to him as he kept walking forward. “How far? Do ye know about the wilding ones, the ones from our own folk who choose to fight alongside evil?”
“But those are just a few, and they don’t even commune with us.” Rurur insisted.
Thuor shook his head. “What about our own travel? Did ye forget what we are looking for? Did ye forget what ye have just seen? A dark rider on a ghost horse, charming flying beasts.”
“That flying beast is of no use to come upon dwarfs in caves… This rider was not taming a beast for using it in underground.” Rurur continued.
Thuor clapped one time. “Oh ye are right about this, left is to know what he has in mind. I would not believe the story ye told if ye had no courage to tell it in face of the King, but I still have my doubts about what ye saw. I don’t believe in a man flying on a beast like that. But think about all he could do, he could cover many distances, and see very far, and catch a target like a defenseless prey, like a rabbit caught by a hawk in an open field, like us right now.”
There was silence and Rurur looked up around as if expecting something to come.
“Don’t ye be afraid, my hawk, Balfour, can see anything very far, he would warn us even about another hawk. Though now that captain says… That flying beast is really a war machine.” Spoke Torag.
He was confident in his hawk, and what he said was true, though even he had not dealt with a situation like that before. But he was not the type who was used to thinking about threats before meeting them, so he just walked along the road without much worry, at this moment his thoughts were quite different from the other dwarfs’ ones. Morning was at its half when at distance they could see a building, a small house and a wind mill, Thuor pointed to it. “There is our first stop.”
The group went walking towards the building, Torag took Balfour, the hawk, from his shoulder and raised it. “Go, watch the lands and the skies, and then come back to tell me, my friend.” Then he made a thrust in the air throwing the animal.
The hawk flew away gaining height. As they approached the house, Thuor knocked on the door and stood there, hands on hips, waiting; but after a moment no one replied; he knocked again. “It seems that there is no one home.” Then he circled the house and went nearby the mill.
“The blades are moving. There must be someone.” Rurur said.
“Or someone got it unlocked and left.” Torag replied.
Thuor came to the mill’s door. “Good morning!”
But again there was no answer. He looked around, and for a moment there was only silence, except for some sparrows and the ram’s footsteps as it agitated. The captain leaned his ear against the door. “There is something inside being milled.”
“Grains.” Rurur said.
“There is something more…” Thuor said as he sharpened the hearing.
“What is it?” Olaf asked.
Thuor motioned for him to be quiet. “Someone’s snore.” He said to then knock violently on the door. “Moooorning!”
A messy noise came from inside as if someone had dropped stuff on the ground, then the door opened, there came a man still wearing a night shirt, and he looked as if just waking up, in fact he was. The man gazed at the dwarfs suspiciously and nodded, he was an eastern man, skinny and tall, brown skin and black hair, sunken eyes and bony face.
“Talk to him, Torag, in his language.” Thuor spoke.
“I can hear you well, master dwarf.” The man replied.
Thuor smiled discreetly. “Oh this is proper. Greetings, noble sir, we came from the Fortress on the north, we are RockFoot. How is it going?”
“Well it could be better, master dwarf.” The man replied rubbing his belly.
“What about the harvest?” Thuor continued.
The man frowned. “I don’t think we are going to get much wealth this year. But blame the weather, strange rains, strange sun, things are changing.”
“Well that’s unusual. May I ask ye sir, have ye seen anything strange recently?” Thuor asked.
“Strange? How strange?” The man replied.
“Oh, different things, or different folks.” The captain insisted.
“I have seen many different folks and things on these lands since I was a small brat. Something would need to be really different to catch my attention. So if you are asking for really unusual things, or unusual people, then I say no, nothing happened.” The man replied.
“Right.” Thuor said as he put his hands on his belt. “What about animals? Strange ones.”
&nb
sp; “Strange animals you say?” The man asked. “What is really strange is this question. What could it mean? Strange animals, like never seen before ones?”
“Yes. Different from, rams, deer or any beast that dwells these steppes. Also… considering the flying ones.” Thuor continued.
“Hum… No. No different beast on the earth, nor in the skies. But I would be happy if you asked me about the sparrows, these small pucks are devastating the seeds!” The man replied.
The captain continued talking as the other dwarfs noticed him trying to take something from him. “Right. What about your fellows. Maybe they saw something.”
“No, master dwarf.” The man said shaking his head. “I live alone here, and I do not use to see many ones, except for when they come from the annual harvest, to use my mill. You can ask them if you want, might find people on the roads, or even in the fields. The harvest is not finished yet, there is still some grains to be cut from the green beans before winter arrives.” He looked at Rurur and Olaf, and to the ram and its loaded saddle.
“Well thank ye noble sir. Farewell.” Thuor said turning and motioning to the others to follow him.
As they left back to the road, the man shouted from far: “Follow the road until the planted fields, there must be peasants there!”
The group got to the road again, Thuor always coming on the front beside Torag, Olaf and Rurur on the back. The man they had just met was one among many others of his kind who lived on the lands surrounding the RockFoot Fortress. These were eastern man, not the warrior type, they were just peasants and usually peaceful ones, but engaged and willing to defend the little they had. They lived there near the dwarfs, without causing any problem, and no one caused problem to them. Walking close to the roadside, Rurur went gently passing his hand on the grass.
“Looking for something, Rurur?” Torag asked.
“Yes.” Rurur replied. “Plants, for flavoring, and for medicines too.”
“If ye know the right plants for medicines, Rurur, then I think it would be welcome for ye to collect them, we could come to need it.” Thuor broke in.
“I know them, captain, some are for flavoring, some for cure, and some for both.” Rurur replied.
Torag was looking up as he had one hand over his eyes.
“What is it?” Thuor asked.
“Balfour… He is flying in circles at some distance… There.” Torag replied pointing to the hawk somewhere in the sky.
“He found something.” Thuor said.
“Quite likely… There is something there, on the ground, he knows when it is something of interest to his master.” Torag replied.
As the group advanced they entered an area where the road was surrounded by tall reed, tall enough to surpass the dwarfs’ height so that they could see nothing except from what was right ahead and behind on the road. Then they heard the sound of sickles cutting reed, and people chatting. Thuor quickened his pace as he looked at the direction from which came the sound, through the reed. A few steps ahead they found a clean area, cut by people who were there, two women, weeding as they talked.
“Good morning, my noble ladies.” The captain said waving.
The women stopped the work and looked to him, they were sweating and had weary faces.
The captain continued: “Let me ask ye, we are patrolling the roads. Did ye see anything strange recently? Strange folks, or strange things.”
The women looked at each other and shook their heads. “No. Nothing.” One woman said, then she looked to Rurur and the ram. “What do you have here? Goods for trading I guess, we might be interested in some goods, if they are nice ones, from your caves.”
“No, my lady, these are not for trading. Thank ye for your time.” Thuor replied.
“We could make good exchange.” The woman insisted. “Grains and spice, if you want it.”
“I’m sure ye have goods like that, still I must insist we are not here for trading.” Spoke Thuor.
“All right, dwarf. But let me tell you will not find around good spice like we have here.” She spoke.
The dwarfs left back to the road after saying goodbye and advanced as they heard the women talking something behind.
“It seems that the only ones interested in ghosts and beasts are us, everyone else is dealing with more… Impportant matters.” Torag spoke looking at Rurur and Olaf.
They returned the look to him.
Olaf squinted, trying to feel his intention. “What can we do if those people did not see it, it is a vast land.” He replied.
“I’m not saying they did not see. We asked them if they saw something strange. Maybe ye just saw a man on a horse, with dirty clothes.” Torag continued.
“Oh ye… Ye would know if ye had seen it.” Rurur said breaking into the conversation.
“Enough. A man who can mount a flying beast is worthy to investigate, no matter what.” Thuor interrupted.
Torag snorted. “I still want someone to tell me the entire story, for now all I have heard were rumors and strange quotes by ye.”
Rurur suddenly remembered something. “How are ye feeling?” He whispered to Olaf who was walking by his side.
“What do ye mean? I’m fine as always…” Olaf replied.
“Ye know what I’m talking about… The Dark Rider, your faint.” Rurur continued.
“Oh, this… Hum… I think I’m quite fine. Yes! I’m feeling excellent right now.”
“Good, one less thing for us to worry about.”
“Yes… We did not tell it to anyone, and I actually think we did well.”
“Agreed. Who knows what they would do to ye if they knew ye made contact with the evil one.”
“Pssst!” Olaf hissed. “Let’s not talk about this anymore, its over!”
Thuor suddenly spoke, surprising them: “There is a place, where we could ask people about what they saw.”
“Good! I hope it is a comfortable place! For now, why don’t ye sing one more song for us, Rurur?” Asked Olaf, trying to disguise his unease.
“Too many songs makes things boring. One a day is enough.” Rurur replied.
“We have a long journey ahead, do ye have songs for all these days?” Olaf asked.
“Even more. But good singing is like good ideas, one can not ask for them, it just comes.” Replied Rurur.
The group left the plantation and came to an open field again, one could see wheel marks on the road, they walked until noon. At some point Balfour cried in the air, Torag raised his arm and the hawk landed on it. Thuor led them to a small hill which they climbed, and at its top Rurur was sweating and snorting. “That’s one hard ride.” He spoke, breathless.
Thuor was nearby a tree when he looked out to something on the field ahead. “There.” He said pointing to a smoke column somewhere on the field. “There we can ask people. Smoke means people.”
“And drink, and rest, I hope.” Rurur said.
“Already Tired, Rurur? The journey did not even start. How do ye think we will pay for resting there?” Torag asked.
The group went down the hill and back to road, as they advanced, Rurur felt hungrier, and he remembered that they had not made any meal yet, though each one of them had eaten something before leaving the Stronghold; but he decided not to comment, and wait for the noon meal. They reached a Tavern, an old barely finished wooden building by the roadside, a small sign hanging beside the door had a red mountain on it, and the name of the place carved in the wood, Red Earth Tavern. They could hear the noise of people talking and moving inside.
“One must stay outside, watching the ram and the provisions.” Thuor said stopping in the front of the tavern and turning to look at the others.
“I came all the way pulling the animal, will stay here with it.” Rurur spoke.
“I will stay too.” Olaf said.
Torag nodded and replied: “Right. I’m going in with the captain, but Balfour does not like airless places.” He said passing the hawk to Rurur’s shoulder.
The anima
l slightly pecked the dwarf’s ear.
“Ouch!” Rurur exclaimed leaning his head.
“Don’t worry Rurur, Balfour does it only once, to test the holder.” Torag replied with a smile.
Thuor was the first to enter the place, he pulled the door and went in followed by Torag who seemed a little hasty to see what there was inside. The place was surprisingly clean and luminous, there were some tables and on them a few people, and none marveled about the dwarfs, as their kind was common on these lands; they went to the balcony and Thuor talked to the bartender in his harsh voice: “Good morning! Sir.”
“Good morning, my fellow dwarf. How can I help?” The bartender asked. He was a tall and thin man, very similar to the one they met at the windmill, had many earrings and some dirty teeth.
Thuor spoke again: “We are looking for…”
“Animals.” Torag interrupted. “Strange animals or strange folks around. Did ye see anything like this? It is a simple question.”
“Hunf... I have seen dwarf patrols, different than you, but they generally come in armor and weapons, and they don’t do many questions, they always seem to know enough.” The bartender said.
“Well, our lands extend far from our Fortress, and many of the fields are ours, rented for peasants to plant, so we take care of our land.” Thuor said.
“Oh I did not mean to offend, nor to contest, master dwarf. I know you are not farmers, but that you do good in dealing with peasants, as well as in paying them fairly… Now, what was you talking about? I think I just lost myself in the conversation.” The man argued.
