by deSouza, Leo
Then came Thuor from behind Torag, he saw the garrison outside and grumbled. The captain went downstairs to the gate, then opened it, taking off the beams and timbering. “Ye may enter, and welcome.” He said as the garrison entered the fort.
The officer took off his helmet and looked around. “Greetings, master chief Thuor RockFoot.”
“Greetings, master Torif Thick Beard from the Star city.” Thuor replied revealing both were already familiar.
“What havoc is this?” Torif asked.
At this moment came Olaf and Rurur, besides Malmas.
“Well it is a short but dense story.” Thuor replied.
“I’ve heard at least half of it. We met a group of peasants who claimed to be here when something happened, they told us that a big whirlwind hit the place, and a big shadow, and took some people with it. But there is more than one version for this story, as we heard. Anyway no one told me about… Goblins… Or fire.” Said officer Torif kicking a dead goblin carcass.
“This is the extra part, I can tell ye everything, if ye want so. My fellow kinsman.” Thuor said.
Torag came downstairs slowly as he looked at the newcomers, he had an aloof mien.
“And who is this wide-awake fellow dwarf who denied us entrance?” Torif asked looking at him.
“Oh he is one of us, for sure. And forgive me about this, it took a lot of effort from us to keep this place from the goblins, so some of us might be minded to claim the spoils of war.” Thuor said.
Torif looked to the other dwarfs behind him and to the man, he noticed everyone was bloodstained, dirty and scarred. Torag’s hair was messy and his eyes were wide and red.
“These are the rest of our company, and this is Malmas, we found him here.” Thuor said pointing his thumb back. “Come, we can discuss about it all while we take a good dose of our best RockFoot mead.”
Captain Thuor led Torif inside the building, there they sat on boxes and started talking about the events, besides Malmas who gave his own version. Meanwhile in the main yard Torag was squinting as he looked at the Thick Beard warriors, Olaf came to him.
“Why did ye not wake one of us to change the turn?” Olaf asked.
“I decided to watch all over the night, after all I have the best eyes.” Torag replied still looking to the warriors.
“Ye don’t come with that, Torag. Ye slept!” Olaf replied.
Torag looked at him with a vexed mien. “No I did not! How can ye say this? The one sleeping like a mangy dog was ye!”
Rurur came, bringing with him the wild boar, tied. “What difference does it make now? Ye better stop disputing this while they watch.” He said motioning his head to the newcomer warriors.
Torag sat on the first step of the staircase. “Look at these ones, they wear armor so heavy that they could not run after an enemy, not to say that they get tired a lot faster when patrolling the roads.”
Rurur looked at the dwarfs, Olaf examined their armor for a moment, then he spoke quietly: “Well… I would bet they are more protected against arrows and spears than us.”
“Ye sure about this? I’m not.” Torag said. “Sometimes it is better to be able to get distance and shoot from far, something that one using such a heavy armor could not do. I don’t like heavy armor, the Thick Beards do, but not us RockFoot.”
“What are they doing here?” Olaf asked.
“They are patrols. The Thick Beards are the ones who patrol the roads in these lands, though it is actually strange for them to do it, their city is far away, in the mountains, and one must cross a difficult path to reach the fields coming from there, might be some agreement between our kings.” Torag spoke.
“What will ye do with this boar?” Olaf asked to Rurur.
“Well… As we already discussed, one could say it would yield a good barbecue. But not all of us are pleased about.” Rurur replied.
They stood there as the officers were still talking inside the building. The morning advanced and it was almost half way through when Thuor came out beside Torif to the main yard, still talking as they walked, being followed by Malmas.
“So if it is as ye say, master chief, then things are getting strange. It is not usual for goblins to attack men or dwarfs’ settlements so openly, and at the sun light!” Torif said as he walked.
Thuor stopped as he put hands on his belt. “These are the red goblins of our lands, captain. They do not fear sun like their western kin, ye know it. Guess ye refer to the audacity of attacking openly, and not in ambush, but as I told ye, they chased us into here. Yet… Bold as they are, they would not normally dare attacking like they did on us, or even on a settlement like they did. They did it because they came on the trail of something bigger, like hungry vultures looking for the leftovers after a camp battle.”
“And this is even worse. The Houses must be warned. I’m going to send messengers to warn our city about this danger. If there is really an intruder on our lands, then we have something to deal with, for sure.” Torif said.
Thuor nodded. “Right, my fellow Thick Beard captain. Now… I would like to invite ye so we could all commune and take breakfast.”
“We already did, before reaching here.” Torif said.
“Well then… My fellow ones are still belly empty, so if ye don’t mind, we need now time to prepare our meal and leave, for the road is long and the sun is already high.” Thuor spoke.
Torif looked at the dead goblin carcasses. “Ye would prefer not to eat among all this… mess. I guess.”
Thuor around and then to Rurur and the boar. “Right captain, and I think there is a deal for us here. We were planning to clean all this by today morning but then ye came. Why don’t we make a deal, as I have something to bargain. Take this boar, and it will be a good meat for your warriors, not the daily ration but a good joyful barbecue. And in return I only ask ye to dispose your men on this cleaning task, nothing much for a well prepared and able company of Thick Beard dwarfs.”
Torif looked at the wild boar. “It seems acceptable, captain. We have a deal!”
Both dwarfs made the traditional eastern dwarf greeting, the greeting used among those belonging to the four eastern houses, lifting the fist to breast height, but without touching each other.
“Right then, now we leave. As we agreed just now, Malmas, ye stay here.” Thuor spoke.
“If I’m right he will be glad to help us to rebuild this place. Ye know, captain Thuor, this place is for sure a trade post, but it is also a resting point for passing garrisons.” Torif spoke.
Malmas just nodded. Thuor motioned to Rurur and he came with the boar, giving it to one of the Thick Beard warriors. Meanwhile Torag came to the ram and brought it to the gatehouse, not before taking the hawk Balfour to his shoulder. “I’m not getting all your pity for animals, Rurur. Ye act like someone who does not like a good roasted rib.” He said.
Rurur shrugged and stirred as if embarrassed. “Oh I… It’s just that it is different, I never did slaughtering.”
Torag chuckled to reply: “Don’t’ worry Rurur, you get used to. Ye just had your first fight against goblins, and now are trading meat with these warriors, soon ye will be doing things like old Torag here.”
“I hope not all of it…” Whispered Rurur.
“Well then, it’s time for us to hit the road again.” Thuor said.
“May we meet again soon. Master Thuor.” Torif replied.
The company left the fort, back to the road again, southward. There came the four, as always Thuor leading the group, right after him came Torag, and then Olaf and Rurur. This part of the landscape was a little bit different from what they had witnessed, there were now little trees and rocks spread among the fields, and there were also small lakes, and this was not a farming area anymore, the wilderness opened ahead of them. As usual, Olaf and Rurur came walking close to each other, Olaf was squinting as he looked down, as if remembering something. “Hey, Rurur…” He whispered.
“What?” Rurur replied.
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��This night… I had the strangest of dreams… Actually, I think it was a nightmare!”
“That is no surprise… We just fought a battle, like we never did before. Blood, pain and cries… One does not sleep well after something like that, except for Torag, oh yes, I guess that one can sleep well even after a massacre.”
“No…” Olaf insisted. “This nightmare was a different one. The Dark Rider was in it.”
Rurur now looked at his friend with a curious mien. “Fear, that is it.”
“I saw in the nightmare, the Dark Rider flying over the fields, and chasing giants!”
“Now this is really something strange. Anyway… Why worry?”
“It was a strange nightmare for sure, I felt like it was actually true, as if I was actually there watching the Dark Rider, and somehow had the same sensation I got when I froze after touching the piece of cloth on the field that day when we first met him.”
Now Rurur had a serious mien, he gazed at Thuor to check if he was not hearing their talk. “What do ye think it could mean?” He asked.
“I don’t know…” Replied Olaf.
Both fell silent again and kept their pace. It did not take long for Thuor to point to a tree where there was a good shadow, and there the group sat and prepared their breakfast, Rurur spread a tablecloth on the grass and in no time there was food and drink on it. “This is the best; meat and onion dumplings. Filled with spice, the one special spice type.” He said as he took some of the meat and brought it to his mouth.
“And let me guess… The special one type of spice only served on special occasions, like the King’s banquet.” Torag spoke.
“Exactly! Ha!” Rurur exclaimed spitting food.
“Did ye scrounge all the leftovers from the banquet?” Olaf asked breaking into the conversation.
Rurur replied: “Well… Master Thuor told me to go to the larder, I thought it was my duty to get the best from there.”
Chewing of mouths could be heard, Olaf spoke again: “I noticed we left the fort hastily.”
“Yes, it was purposeful. I did not want us to have to clean the mess, as soon as Torif accepted the boar, I decided to leave before he changed his mind.” Thuor said.
“Where are we going now? Captain Thuor.” Rurur asked.
“Take the road to the Rocky Desert, and then to the mountainsides again, towards south.” The captain replied.
“Why cross the desert? Why not circle it?” Torag asked looking to Thuor.
“It is not that hard of a desert, one could travel through it without much effort. Besides, it would take two more days to circle it.” Thuor replied.
Torag shook his head. “Excuse me captain but, I don’t like this. We are not made for open fields, we are dwarfs, a dwarf can barely deal with two enemies in an open field, but bring us inside a cave and ye will watch one of us alone defeat an entire company of enemies. Put one of us in an open field and we become an easy target, make us walk on a mountainside and none can even see us, not to say dare mess with us. Ye look around here, trees, rocks, places to get cover, places to hide under it, what about walking on a desert?”
Olaf quickly pointed at Torag as he chewed, and then looked at Thuor, as if endorsing what the other just said. “I think he is right. Specially when ye ponder that there is a dark rider on his flying mount around.”
“Oh now seems the perfect moment, for ye to tell me about this damn rider! It seems I’m the one who knows less about this. Huh? Tell me, what do ye really know about this?” Torag asked.
“Ye know enough. We don’t know more than ye now.” Olaf replied.
“Yes I see, I hear someone talking about flying beasts, whirlwinds, and people disappearing out of the blue, why doesn’t someone tell me what is really happening?” Torag insisted.
“It is all about what ye already said by yourself, Torag. Walking on the open field is dangerous, I think we should rethink about it. ” Olaf continued.
Thuor turned impatient. “Two more days then, to circle the desert. Ye can decide.”
No one answered, every dwarf there kept respect for the captain, and they knew they were under his charge, with consent from the King.
“Damn it… Let’s go through the desert…” Torag said quietly.
To the end of the meal no one said more, and after they finished it, the dwarfs gathered their stuff again and prepared to leave. The group was again on the road, they kept walking and passed through a small stream with no bridge but narrow enough to be passed with a short jump, and while passing through water Thuor always reminded them to fill their canteens. Noon was coming and the sun was high, but there was no heat and they felt the climate of a typical autumn day.
“It was far hotter back in the last days.” Rurur spoke.
“An unusual heat for this time of year, for sure.” Olaf said. “But we are at the end of the autumn, and soon there will be cold.”
“And snow. And no hunting for a group of hungry travelers.” Torag added.
“That’s no problem for us, we know the dates of leaving and arrival, going and coming back.” Olaf argued.
“I think ye are right this time. Yes, and there is the ram meat in any case.” Torag said.
Rurur placed his hand on the animal as he heard it. “Let’s hope it does not get to this point. There is still much hunting on the steppes, and tubers under the ground. Right? My dear ram.”
“Rurur, singer, cook, and protector of the animals…” Torag spoke sarcastically.
The company walked during all the day, nothing special happened, and when night finally came, they gathered to rest under the protection of some trees, even though Thuor seemed to ignore the danger, he actually was watchful and always looking for the paths that seemed safer; the night passed, and the group slept tranquil with no interruptions. On the next morning the journey started again as the dwarfs followed their way, they passed many landscapes and saw many trees and lakes, but no signal of any folk. When it was about noon, they were walking when Thuor turned off the road and led the group through the field towards a short but high nearby hill, they climbed the slope while walking with their bodies bowing, which took them some effort, no matter that there was no heat around. When they finally reached its top, everyone was snorting, except for the ram. They could see the vastness ahead.
“A week or so to reach the desert.” Thuor said.
“A week? Oh this is much time. What about the path till there?” Asked Olaf.
Thuor turned to him to answer. “Nothing special, master Olaf. Just wilderness as we have witnessed till now. What about your arm?”
Olaf raised his wounded arm a bit and looked at it. “I would say, it is almost hale, but better wait some time before it cuts some goblin heads again. I’m still using the root as ye told me.”
“Almost hale… That cut will take long to close.” Torag broke in.
“Yes, ye better keep far from any fight for a while. Next time let us take care of it.” The captain said.
That speech got Rurur mindful, he broke into the conversation. “What do ye mean with next time, captain? I thought another battle was unforeseen.”
“I could say these roads are safe, in fact I have been traveling on these lands for a long time, and yet never witnessed a big threat. There are always garrisons patrolling it, from the Thick Beards. But we know, there is something strange happening.” Thuor spoke.
“Goblins… We should not be seeing them here. Not the way we saw.” Torag spoke.
“No… And I told chief Torif that they are showing up because they are on the rider’s trail, taking the leftovers, but now I’m not sure about this anymore.” The captain argued.
“What do ye mean, captain?” Torag asked as he crouched on the ground to rest his legs.
“Creatures moving, flying beasts, riders… There is something happening. The things happening in the west are stirring these lands too.” Thuor spoke in a somber tone. “These goblins can walk under the sun, but it does not mean they like it, there is s
omething encouraging them.”
“Yes, we saw it when we first saw the rider. The sky became darker, and shadows covered the fields.” Olaf said.
All the dwarfs looked at him in dismay.
“Well, my fellow travelers. Let’s continue.” Thuor spoke.
The group went down the hill, taking the road again. From there they travelled the next days, always keeping southward, and they passed no men or dwarfs anymore but saw many deer and other small animals like rabbits. The captain started to ask the other dwarfs to look for leguminous plants on the ground, and as they passed they were always looking down and eventually finding some of them, though Rurur always preferred to look for roots. Thuor decided to add as much food as possible to the provisions they already brought. Songs sung by Rurur, stops for resting and meals, long walks through the prairies, that was the routine of the dwarfs in this journey for now, the captain also gave Olaf and Rurur some basic combat lessons during the travel. In the dwarf’s minds, thoughts about what was about to come, but memories of home were the most constant ones in Rurur’s and Olaf’s reveries.
As the time passed, the weather became colder, Thuor knew they should leave the fields before winter came, for the ambience would turn inhospitable soon, but he planned the travel in a way that there was no risk of them being caught by snow before reaching their cousins city under the mountain, from where the travel would continue on a path covered by a rocky ceiling all the way. One day they were walking as usual when Olaf and Rurur were still talking about the decision about crossing the desert, but not near Thuor’s ears. They walked as they whispered, keeping distance from the captain.
“By the road it would take two more days. I think it is a good excuse.” Olaf said quietly to Rurur.
“Why do ye think they built the road circling it and not passing through?” Rurur asked.
Olaf got thoughtful for a moment, then spoke: “Maybe this is because no road can be built on those sandy dunes, and no wagon wheel can easily roll there. But good enough for any dwarf foot to walk on.”
“Did ye come across the desert before, captain?” Olaf asked loudly for Thuor to hear.
