by deSouza, Leo
Rurur noticed a dismayed mien in Torag. “Balfour will show up any time.” He spoke.
“I hope so…” Torag replied. “I don’t like this open vastness. Back when I was in the stronghold, my job was to watch from up a tower, and Balfour was always there with me, landed on his perch or flying around, overseeing the surroundings.”
The travelling resumed with the dwarfs stopping to clean their boots from dirt and some complaints about heat and too much light in their eyes. Thuor was walking leading the group when he suddenly stopped and put his hand above his eyes, squinting and looking at the horizon ahead, the other dwarfs also stopped.
“What is it?” Rurur asked as he approached Thuor.
“I don’t know…” The captain whispered.
“If only Balfour was with us… He would have warned about it long ago.” Torag spoke also looking ahead.
“He is not with us… What do ye see?” Thuor asked.
“There we go again.” Torag said as he put his hand above his eyes, looking ahead, sunlight was strong and its reflection on the sand made it difficult for him to see. “Well… I see a cloud of dust, close to the ground… Coming towards us, very far away.”
“This is what I can see too.” Thuor replied.
“This is what everyone is seeing dammit! Does anyone know what it means?” Olaf asked.
Torag spat on the ground and rested his hands on his belt. “I would bet someone is coming, exactly like when we met the goblins.”
“Oh, no more goblins please!” Rurur exclaimed.
“It is just a whirlwind.” Olaf argued.
Torag shook his head. “No… It does not move like one, and considering that it is coming against the wind, and moving too fast toward us, I would say this is not a natural thing, and this dust is not being lifted by the wind.”
Thuor pointed to a big rock. “There, let’s go hide there and wait to see what it is.”
They quickly walked to behind the rock.
“It is getting larger…” Olaf spoke, peeking.
The other dwarfs leaned against the rock, also looking out.
“I told ye. Why do ye ask for a damn tracker with good eyes like me to come with ye in this journey if ye don’t even trust when I say what I see? Someone is coming, more than one, many ones… And they are coming fast.” Torag spoke.
“They must be mounted on horses to be that fast.” Rurur said.
Olaf squinted making some effort to see. “Or mounted on something else.”
“Something else like what?” Rurur insisted.
“They are on horses… I can see the horses, but there is something else, that is for sure.” Torag added.
More time was necessary for the dwarfs to finally see, and when they did, Thuor became worried not by what it was, but by what it meant. On the desert ahead, the company could now see many horses pulling chariots, and on these vehicles there were men standing as they held the reins. Each chariot was pulled by two horses, and the golden metal on the vehicles shone against the sun, reflecting its light back towards anyone staring at them, they came like golden nuggets through the desert.
“Wain riders.” Thuor spoke. “Eastern men.”
“Oh we should greet them then.” Rurur said.
Thuor shook his head. “Not these ones. They are a fierce folk, they are not that friendly, and as ye can see, they are always hurrying to their interests. I would not be surprised if they run over ye, I think it is better for us to stay hidden and let them pass.”
Olaf heard the captain and then looked again to the incoming chariots. “If ye say so, captain…”
The riders came, they passed beside the rock where the dwarfs were hiding, and these ones crouched to avoid being seen, but the amount of dust raised in the air by the many wheels was enough to hide them in safety. The dwarfs noticed that the men were wearing weapons, like wooden spears and strange maces, some of them also had bows, and there were actually more than the dwarfs first guessed, their number was revealed to be much bigger as they passed in line, for they advanced in such a formation, the company also noticed that these men were painted.
“They ride a row line, to avoid anyone guessing their number from the marks on the ground.” Torag said.
“That is right, master tracker.” Thuor replied.
“Where are they going?” Rurur asked.
“West…” Torag spoke.
“To the war? To fight against the western men?” Rurur insisted.
“Not yet… I believe they are gathering in the Golden City. And now that I see them here, I would say my guess is that they are gathering a large army, preparing for something bigger.” Thuor added.
When the men finally passed, the dwarfs still crouched for some time, quiet under Thuor’s order, then they rose again.
“If they were going south, we could have asked for a ride.” Torag spoke slapping his clothes to get rid of the dust.
Their faces now had a thin layer of mud made by dust and sweat.
“As I said, I don’t think this meeting would yield a good result.” Thuor argued. “These ones live at the mountains foot, where the desert ends and meets the Red Mountain Range. Someone called for them, to join in some task, and judging by how hurried they are, I could say they are answering to the calling.”
The company circled the rock and started walking again. The day reached noon and now the air became really hot, when they stopped for their meal, Rurur dealt with a large sheet, extending it above their heads, tying it on some firewood timber sticks in the ground and also on the saddle, making a tent, the dwarfs sat under its shadow and ate. That revealed for everyone how good it was to have in the group one who is used to dealing with comfort and convenience, and Rurur was good with such things.
“Sometimes ye have the best ideas, Rurur.” Olaf spoke.
“That is right, what would ye do if there was not someone like me to deal with food and accommodation?” Rurur asked.
“Oh we would do without ye.” Torag replied. “We would keep far more food, enough for us to eat in abundance, ye eat too much.”
“Me?” Exclaimed Rurur. “Well… Yes I do. But ye should be grateful for I was the one who took the right food from the larder, not to say I always prepare something different when I have time to spend with spice I brought by myself, not from the larder but from my own kitchen, plus the ones I take from the roadside.”
“He is right… If we would thank someone for our daily food having a special taste, this one would for sure be Rurur, master of cooking and flavoring!” Olaf exclaimed.
Rurur smiled and motioned his head, embarrassed.
“I can already imagine when we slice the ram, ye could make us some good stew.” Torag spoke looking at the animal.
Rurur, frowned and stopped eating. “I don’t believe this matter is already concluded. I actually don’t think we will need to sacrifice our dear ram, as he has provided very good services for us.”
“Hunf…” Torag snorted. “I say we have been giving it too much feed, more than enough for him to keep carrying our stuff, yes… More than just for keeping alive and working, the ram is actually getting pretty fat, like a fattening animal, not a working one.”
Rurur showed annoyance. “Oh ye… What do ye say? Captain?” He asked looking at Thuor with an insinuating stare.
Thuor was eating quietly, he was thoughtful about the many things the company had seen, the captain finished chewing a piece of meat and then spoke: “The animal will stay with us as long as necessary, there is still a long path ahead, we will decide about it when the time comes. And that will depend on the generosity of the houses we are going to visit.”
“Right!” Rurur exclaimed. “I know there are some friendly folks ahead who will gift us with many provisions. Wait till we reach the houses of our cousins, I have heard many stories about the Thick Beards’ kitchens, larders crammed with food, abundance as never seen.”
“Still a good roasted ram rib would be welcome.” Torag said quietly.
T
he ram stirred, he moved away, pulling the sheet and dismantling the tent.
“Ye see?” Rurur asked rising. “He is sensitive enough to feel your malice!”
The meal continued now under the sun, and when it ended the company gathered stuff and restarted the journey. The afternoon advanced, the terrain became even softer as they traipsed the hot desert, the only moving things besides the dwarfs were the wind and the sand with it, some small whirlwinds could be seen from afar raising dust from the ground. It was a quiet journey, none of the dwarfs said much, except for some occasional questions to Thuor about the other deserts that he visited or the stories about them. The desert was barren and now began to reveal itself a challenge, the dwarfs began to feel tired, dust came into their eyes, their skin was burning and dryness caused them discomfort. But that was not enough of a problem to stop a company of stubborn dwarfs like them, from time to time Torag swore against the wind as he whisked the dust, their cloaks stirred and they had to keep their eyes half closed, and sometimes the ram bellowed as he stumbled on the soft sand. Right now Thuor was telling more stories about his travels. “… And giant scorpions dwelling on the deserts far south of this world.”
“I’m glad we have nothing like this here. I wonder what an encounter with something like that would be like.” Olaf spoke.
“Hunf… Why bother at all, we have Torag with us. The one who killed the goblin leader!” Rurur said.
“It is true, your fame will spread among the folks when we return, Torag.” Spoke Thuor.
The wind suddenly agitated, dust covered the scene, the dwarfs covered their eyes. The ram stirred and reared dropping some of the saddle load onto the ground. There were some whirlwinds around raising dust and violently shaking the dwarfs, when the wind finally calmed again, the dwarfs could finally open their eyes and look around. Rurur was crouching as he gathered some stuff that had fallen from the saddle, he raised the big canteen and turned it upside down, its cover was open and the water was gone.
“Oh excellent! No water for us.” Torag exclaimed.
Thuor checked the saddle. “Any of ye sill have water in your canteens?”
Everyone shook their heads, Olaf shook his canteen in the air showing that it was empty.
“Who was the last one to tie the canteen on the saddle?” Torag asked.
“Ye!” Olaf exclaimed.
Torag looked at him in disfavor. “Me? I’m drinking from my own canteen!”
“Yes but ye just filled yours with the big one from the saddle some time ago.” Olaf insisted.
“Oh I… Fine! Does not mean the blame is mine!” Torag replied.
“What happened here?” Rurur broke in. “The wind could drop the canteen on the ground but never open its lid! Some idiot did not tighten the lid enough!”
“Ye stop!” Thuor shouted. “The more ye talk the more ye get dry. The end of the desert is near, let’s go.”
And so it was, after some growling and scolds the company went ahead, the rest of the day was spent in walking with not much talk, for the dwarfs felt the taste of their dry mouths. Till night nothing special happened, and even in their last meal of the day, no one said much, they did not dare drink alcohol as they knew it would make them even more thirsty. The dwarfs one more time laid on the ground and prepared to sleep, Olaf again took the first turn of watching, he stood awake to the last moment before waking up Rurur to take the turn, and when he did it, Rurur took some work to raise.
“Wake up lazy pig, it’s time for your turn.” Olaf said shaking Rurur.
The dwarf woke up and raised his torso from the ground, he looked at Olaf for a moment. “Give me this!” He said abruptly taking the hourglass from Olaf’s hand. “Ye are cheating… We just laid to sleep a moment ago…”
“Oh ye… It is your turn and don’t be a lazy bastard! Wake up Torag when the time comes, now I will enjoy the sleep of the fair ones.” Olaf replied. He took some distance and laid on the ground, wrapping himself in the blanket.
Rurur raised and walked to a nearby rock, siting on it.
“Hey Rurur… Look up.” Olaf spoke. “Have ye ever seen so many stars before?”
Rurur looked up to the sky, he realized that Olaf was right, there were many stars in the sky, at least for his eyes. “I don’t remember the last time I looked up and saw so many in it. Maybe this is because we live under the ground and there is always a ceiling above our heads.”
Olaf chuckled. “Have ye ever heard about the star roof on our cousin’s halls in the last of the four houses?” Olaf asked.
Rurur shook his head still looking up. “No. I did not”
“It is a huge hall inside the CoalLock stronghold. They say the ceiling is so tall that ye can’t see it, but that they carved many gems into it so when ye look up ye see nothing but the shining gems among the darkness, which is why they call it the Star Roof.” Olaf continued.
Rurur smiled, he was fascinated as he looked at the stars above. “I hope to visit there someday.”
Olaf then slept almost instantly, silence covered all again.
Devil dust and maggots.
When morning came, Thuor was in the last turn of watching, he was the one who woke up the others. The group had a fast meal and began the travel again, the day was even hotter than the last one and a warm wind blew raising much dust in the air so that one more time it became difficult for the dwarfs to keep their eyes open as they advanced. Walking on a plain terrain, the company was taken by surprise when they reached a ground fissure that they could not see before from further away. A huge fissure on the ground, extending to both sides as far as the eye could see, wide enough to prevent anyone from jumping over it, and so deep that one could not see its bottom. Now the wind had become calm again and there was not so much dust flying around anymore. Right ahead, above the fissure, there was a narrow bridge linking the two cliffs, a wooden bridge with no handrail. Thuor knew the place, but for the first time he saw there something that could prevent them from going ahead. “This is the Large Step Passage Fissure. It extends from the western to the eastern border of the desert, and there is no other way to cross but this small bridge. Even so… It seems like destiny decided to play a trick on us, as ye can see, the bridge is blocked.” He said.
It really was, right on the center of the bridge there was a big boulder, so large and tall that it prevented anyone passing by, even a dwarf could not climb it, maybe a skilled man could, but a ram would definitively not.
“Oh my luck, my bad luck as always chasing me.” Olaf spoke.
“What then?” Rurur asked approaching the boulder and knocking it. “It seems quite hard. I say, it would take us an entire day to crack it into many pieces so we could pass.”
An unknown thin and shrill voice sounded: “Crack it? Why crack it? Use your head, not just your arms, dwarf!”
Rurur stepped back, all the dwarfs looked around trying to find the voice’s source.
“Who said that?” Olaf asked.
“I said!” The voice continued. “I say, there is only one way to pass this bridge.”
Still they could not see where the voice was coming from.
“Show yourself, stranger, and then we can talk face to face.” Thuor spoke.
A low laugh was heard, and the voice sounded again: “Why? You can hear my voice, you don’t need to see me.”
The dwarfs moved around, agitated as now they had the sensation that the voice was coming from among them. Torag wielded his axe and prepared to use it.
“I already said, use your head, not your arms only.” The voice continued.
Thuor decided to enter the game. “Right, sir voice…” He spoke.
“Annoying voice!” Torag Broke in.
Thuor continued: “Tell us, ye who say we should use our heads. How could we cross the bridge?”
The voice sounded again, now loudly: “If you really want to pass, just ask for it.”
“Fine.” Thuor said. “I ask for passing.”
“So be it.”
The voice replied. “But let me tell you that there is a price for it.”
Torag snorted. “Hah! A trickster and a robber, I knew it.”
“Tell us, mysterious voice, what is your price?” Thuor asked.
Torag was now lurking around, as if he had noticed something, the voice continued to speak: “A fair price, you bet. A fine quantity from your funds, I know dwarfs have many funds, many funds found deep in your mining caves, mining caves as deep as your pockets. Gold, silver, gems!”
Torag had put his axe back in his belt and now looked as if prepared to catch something, the other dwarfs just observed but they could see nothing.
“Right. Then ye get it, one piece of silver coin would be enough.” Thuor said.
“Yes, yes! Once peace each dwarf. Oh wait! What about the ram? I think five silver coins would be enough.” The voice said.
The captain was about to reply when Torag suddenly jumped ahead and in a quick blow caught something that the others were not seeing. He was now holding something by its neck, something invisible. “What about ye begging for your life now ye trickster!” He shouted as he held its neck.
A creature revealed itself, stirring while being held by Torag’s strong and thick hands. It slowly became visible, as if coming out from a camouflage, it was as if its skin was totally sand colored before, like a chameleon. The dust covering its body was shaken and formed a cloud in the air, then everyone saw. Half the size of a dwarf, and thin like a dry branch, skin color still like dust but now visible, so well camouflaged that it would pass unnoticed to most eyes, but not Torag’s ones. Pointy nose and ears, and eyes as beige as the skin tone, the whole creature was gritty. It stopped stirring when it found it impossible to get rid of Torag’s hands and then just looked at the dwarfs and smiled.
“I have an offer to ye, ye give me five silver coins and I will not break that thin neck.” Torag said.
Thuor approached and stooped to look face to face with the creature. “Who are ye?”He asked.
“Who? Oh, folks like me have no name. Ask me what I am.” The creature replied.
“Fine. But ye better answer me quick, and stop with riddles and tricks.” Thuor replied.
