by deSouza, Leo
“Ye are a wise dwarf if ye got something from that guy, even his eyes made me tired just by looking at them.” Rurur said.
“These are our wilding kin. They are like us, but not the same.” The captain argued.
“Like us no way, Captain!” Olaf exclaimed.
The wilding dwarf sitting nearby heard it and gazed at them slightly, Olaf lowered his voice to speak again. “They are savages… And brutish.”
“And yet we are drinking their beer and eating their meal.” Thuor replied.
“Yes… And it is not that bad.” Rurur added.
Thuor took a gulp of the beverage. “Strange beer, where is Torag?”
At this moment the guard came back, standing on the opposite side of the table, in front of them. “Where is the other one?” He asked.
From above the guard’s shoulder Rurur saw Torag crawling on the roof of the building ahead, near the cage where Balfour was. “Well… He is…” He whispered.
Olaf also saw Torag up there, and so did Thuor, then all three dwarfs stayed sat motionless watching the scene.
“Where is he?” The guard asked again, now in a more surly tone.
They could see the exact moment when Torag opened the cage and Balfour flew away, a second later the roof under him gave way and he fell into the building making a loud noise, the guard looked back. A few moments later out came Torag from inside the building, covered in dust, as he came out of a door a wilding dwarf came after him shouting something that the RockFoot dwarfs could not understand, but judging by his tone was not something kind. Torag came to the table and sat on a chair, his face dirty with dust, he smiled and took a gulp of beer, then spoke: “Nice meal. What now?”
The guard looked at him as he frowned. “Where were ye?
“Oh I… I had to use a toilet. This kind fellow allowed me to use his one.” Torag replied pointing his thumb back to the man who had come after him from inside the building. This one was still there shouting and complaining, then went inside the building again.
“Well then. There is no toilet where ye are going to sleep. Ye sleep in the corral, it is dry and covered.” The guard spoke.
“Sleeping in the corral… That is it.” Rurur whispered.
And so it was, after Thuor finished eating, the company left to the corral led by the guard and there they arranged themselves to pass the night. The wilding dwarfs were used to ending their activities early, so the RockFoot dwarfs had no problem to find silence at all, and as bad as the corral was, it proved to be an adequate place to rest. On the straw and without a bonfire they slept, but not without keeping a watch all the night.
Dwarf diplomacy.
In the next morning Thuor’s company woke up in the corral, it had been a tranquil night and now everyone was already up and preparing to leave.
“When I heard about good comfortable rooms I thought they would put us in beds.” Olaf spoke.
“Well… At least they allowed us to sleep close to our friend here.” Torag replied as he approached their ram. He reached into the feed bucket hanging from the animal's neck and rummaged inside, then quickly took back a hand of feed and checked it. “It is gone!”
“What?” Thuor asked.
“The gems! We dropped the gems inside the feed bucket! The savages stole them!” Torag replied.
“All of them?” Thuor asked.
“Yes all of them!” Torag continued.
“Do ye think this was a wise decision, to drop the gems there?” The captain insisted.
“Well captain… I thought they would inspect us!” Torag replied.
“He is right.” Said Olaf approaching the ram. “Look, they searched the saddle, it is not arranged the way we left it.”
Rurur came and checked the bucket, turning it upside down and knocking on its bottom, nothing fell from there but feed. “Wait! He ate it!”
Now everyone looked at the ram.
“Oh my… It is true!” Olaf spoke. “What now?”
“Well my dear…” Torag said as he rested one hand on the animal. “In this case, I see no other option than opening and finding.”
“Opening? What? No ye can’t do that! We need the ram to carry our stuff!” Rurur said.
“Let it be! It is not that bad, the ram ate them, he will pass them out again.” Thuor spoke.
“He is right.” Olaf said “And I have a good solution for this.”
He took the bucket from the animal’s neck and brought it to its backside, tying it there. At this moment, a guard came to the corral entrance. “Come, Barar waits for ye.” He said.
They all prepared and left the corral moving through the settlement towards the gate, the guard came escorting them. Again the place was full of bystanders, and the company noticed many of them were busy in preparing stuff for travel and war.
“Hey.” Olaf sounded quietly to Rurur as both walked. “I had the nightmare again.”
“The same one?” Rurur asked.
“Yes, but this time I could see more. It was as if I could see his intentions…” Olaf spoke.
“Intentions? Ye talk about the Dark Rider.” Rurur said.
“Yes, yes… The same thing, he was chasing those giants in an open field, but he had no intention to kill, it was like as if he was… Playing…” Olaf replied.
“That makes not much sense…” Rurur whispered.
“But there was a terrible mood in the air, death… Like if death itself was lurking, like something really mean was taking all…” Olaf continued.
Rurur got thoughtful for a few moments, he looked around suspiciously, then replied: “Still better not tell anything to the others, after all it meant nothing till now.”
Olaf nodded and the conversation ended. They got surprised when they arrived nearby the gate and saw something that they were not expecting for. Not just a few dwarfs but at least thirty warriors were standing there in loose formation, they were carrying weapons and some rustic armor, some of them had paintings on their skins, and as the company passed by them, Torag looked out and noticed that these were war paintings.
“How do ye think they caught Balfour?” Rurur asked as he walked pulling the ram’s rein.
“He loves some types of meat, I need to teach him not to fall into traps so easily.” Torag replied slightly jumping to rearrange a pack of stuff he was carrying on his back.
When they reached the gate they found Barar there, already riding his bear. “RockFoot masters, it is time for us to leave.” He spoke.
Thuor came close to him and talked quietly, the others stood far off still looking at the wilding warriors. Then the captain came back to his own company. “It seems we will have no time for breakfast.” He said.
“That is quite annoying. How can we stand on our legs when our bellies are empty?” Rurur asked.
“We will eat something while walking. We can stop to rest and get a decent meal when this task is over.” Thuor replied.
Rurur grumbled. “When the task is over… Ask the evil dwarf riding a bear about this. Dwarfs ride nothing, we walk on our feet, this is unnatural.”
The gate was opened and the garrison began to leave, not marching but in loose formation, all the warriors left and then came Thuor’s company. Outside the settlement the warriors arranged in a scattered group, they were just a few, nothing compared with a large army and yet the view impressed the RockFoot dwarfs, some of them where pushing small wagons with provisions and war supplies. As the crowd advanced the sun began to rise from behind the Red Mountains range, they took the path to the main road again, and at one point Torag, who came up beside Olaf, gave him a slight nudge in the ribs and gestured with his head pointing to something in the sky. Olaf looked up and saw far away in the sky Balfour, the hawk, flying around as if waiting for the command from his master to come down and land. Torag had a mischievous smile on his face. Thuor went side by side with Barar, always arguing something as if trying to persuade him to act like he thought it would be the best way, now and then the others fr
om his company could see Barar shaking his head. From behind Torag asked loudly to Barar. “Tell me, master Barar. Ye once told about rewarding us after the diplomatic meeting. Have ye decided about it?”
The imposing dwarf above his bear mount turned his torso and looked at him seriously. “Yes I did. Listen to my offer, ye can go in safety, as long as ye leave the ram and the saddle with us.”
“What?” Torag asked.
Thuor intervened: “But these are our provisions and…”
“This is the deal. Accept it, or forget about agreements with us.” Barar spoke in his harsh voice.
Thuor looked back to Torag and for a moment their looks crossed, but both knew that there was nothing they could do. They traveled a long distance and it was almost noon when Barar raised his hand in the air making the garrison stop, he stood still looking away for a moment, then spoke: “There they come, again in the same time, like sneaky owls…” Then he made a motion with his arm and shouted something in a strange language that none on Thuor’s company could understand.
The wilding dwarfs’ garrison stirred and moved quickly, arranging in a single line, disposing its thirty warriors towards the road and the ones coming ahead. There came the Thick Beard patrol, very well armored dwarfs, using their helmets and armed with weapons, and at its front came their captain, he approached and hit the blade of his axe on the ground, resting his hands on its handle. “Be still.” The Thick Beard captain said in an imposing voice. “Are not ye the wilding ones? Did not we already warn ye about marching on these roads?”
Barar looked at the captain with a daring mien, then turned to Thuor and motioned for him to go ahead and start conversations with the Thick Beard leader. Meanwhile Olaf, Torag and Rurur were close to each other carefully watching all.
“That’s it, we stick ourselves among the Thick Beards and it’s over, no one can mess with us there.” Torag said.
The others nodded and they stepped forward intending to do as he said, but Barar noticed their movement and extended his arm in the air blocking the way. “Ye don’t move.” He spoke looking at them with a sinister look.
The dwarfs stopped and stood, meanwhile Thuor advanced towards the Thick Beard captain and raised his fist. “Greetings my fellow kin. What good news from the Red Star Fortress?
The captain gazed at Thuor from head to toe, and then spoke. “Ye are not a wilding one. Who are ye and why do ye walk alongside these ones?”
“I’m Thuor RockFoot, and I come from the northern fortress, from the house of your northern cousins. And I’m here to intermediate between ye and those fellow dwarfs ye see behind me.” Thuor replied.
“Intermediate? What is this about?” The Thick Beard one asked.
“Yes herm… They want free passage, and they say they are not going to cause any nuisance, as long as their passage is guaranteed.” Thuor replied.
The captain replied: “Oh who is this that makes demands on our lands? And where are they wanting to go?”
“Master Barar from the wilds, and he asks for quiet journey to the steppes north of the Black Lands, on the slope of the Dark Mountains.” Thuor spoke.
“Again this, it’s an odd place to go. And by what we know about what is happening there, I can only think those bold ones are looking for struggle and strife.” The Thick Beard said. He leaned to the side to look over Thuor’s shoulder and gaze at Barar back there, then spoke loudly: “May I ask ye, master wilding, why are ye looking to fight alongside those of a different kind to us? Why do ye join men from these lands and gather with these dark folks from the Dark Land to kill and raze settlements in the west?”
Barar said nothing, just stood there in silence, then stirred looking around for his own warriors. “This is one who makes many questions.” He whispered. “It seems our diplomat is not doing well.”
The Thick Beard dwarf spoke loudly again. “I was told to tell ye, under the grace of our King, that these lands are not for militia troops to march on. It devastates the plantations and damages our roads. Besides, ye do not have authorization from our King to get involved in any war or dispute.”
Barar chuckled as he shook his head, he twisted his weapon in the air and shouted some command in his evil language. The warriors howled and got into battle stance, their steps on the ground sounded loudly. The Thick Beards did the same when they saw it, but their noise was a metallic one from their armor, and their captain stepped back, a tension formed.
“Wait! We can solve this in a polished way.” Thuor said as he opened his arms and stood still between the two garrisons.
“The only polished thing which will work today is my blade.” Barar spoke.
The Thick Beard captain turned back to his men and joined them in formation, Thuor turned and came running to Barar. “Listen, this is not going to end well.” He spoke, but the bear howled, making him step back.
“Why do ye think it is not going to end up well? This is what we came for, we are warriors.” Barar replied.
“Ye did not come to fight our own kind, nor to shed blood in these lands.” Thuor insisted.
Olaf, Torag and Rurur looked at each other with tense eyes.
“Which side do we chose?” Rurur asked.
“The one with more chances.” Olaf replied looking around as he started counting the dwarfs from both sides.
Barar stepped ahead, and was followed by his men, but again Thuor stood between them and the Thick Beards. “Wait. Listen to me. This is going to be a big mistake!” He said to Barar.
“Get out of my way, RockFoot, ye are about to witness a fight of real dwarfs against some oaf!” Barar replied.
Then someone among the wild warriors shouted, it was Olaf, he came close to Barar and Thuor. “Think twice, master Barar. I know ye like a good fight, but ye must wonder about the result of this. They are very well armed and trained dwarfs, do ye see?” He said pointing to the Thick Beard garrison.
Barar looked at them and spat on the ground. “No armor can stop our blades, nor training can outdo our war frenzy!”
“That’s for sure, my lord. Even so, ye may win this struggle, but ye are at almost the same number as them, not many of ye would last to tell the story. There would be no one to march anymore, nor comply with the agreement in the south, whatever the deal is.” Olaf continued.
One more time Barar looked at the Thick Beards ahead, their captain looked back in bitterness.
“Besides… My fellow kin.” Olaf continued. “Ye may win this one, but what about when this story comes to their King’s ears? With all due respect, I know ye are a formidable enemy I would not want to face, but ye know… These armored dwarfs come from some place, and there are more of them there, many more.”
Thuor came close to the Thick Beards and approached the captain.
“So tell me, have these scum already decided to turn around and go home?” The Thick Beard captain asked.
“Hear my proposal, and let’s make an agreement. I say, let them pass, and ask from them something that could be useful for both parties. These are vast lands, and there are many and long roads, ye are going north, they are going south, why don’t ye ask him for the ram? It is a good animal and it is loaded with provisions. This way they would be doing something in your interest, my fellow captain.” Thuor spoke quietly as he gesticulated.
“What? And why do ye think I would allow these rascals to go over the roads. They are actually the reason why we patrol, thieves and marauders.” The Thick Beard captain replied.
The wilding ones agitated as they heard this.
“Ye know it is not like that, captain.” Thuor insisted. “They may be wild ones, but they follow a duty code. They are not ordinary thieves, and I would feel pity for those thieves caught by them. If they say they are going south towards a task for a lord there, then true it is.” Said Thuor.
The captain was now looking down thoughtful.
“And there is more, captain.” Thuor continued. “There is a good chance of this battle going very badly for b
oth sides, ye can’t be sure about winning this, and your majesty would not like to see ye back alone or alongside one or two survivors. Besides, look around, it does not seem a good day to die.”
The Thick Beard was still looking down now with his hands crossed behind his back, he stood like this for some moments, thinking, then finally spoke: “Ye seem to be a sane dwarf, master RockFoot… That’s right.” He said bypassing Thuor and stepping toward the wilding warriors.
Everyone got into fight stance, preparing for a struggle.
“I may let ye pass, Barar, wanderer of the prairies. But that should demand an allowance.”
Barar leant down from above his bear mount and asked Olaf: “What did he say?”
“He wants something in return, for allowing ye to pass.” Olaf replied.
The Thick Beard captain shouted: “A tribute for our fair King, a payment for using our roads!”
“Well, I think this is fair, after all they are the ones who built and keep the roads.” Olaf spoke.
Barar squinted, vexed. “Damn blackmailers… What demand ye?
The Thick Beard spoke loudly, imposing himself: “I see a good animal among ye, I would like to acquire this ram, along with its saddle, and its content. It’s a fair request.”
Barar twisted his mouth in distaste, he looked at all the dwarfs from Thuor’s company in a row, as if feeling to be victim of a plot. “Aaaargh!” He sounded as he stirred the bear making it turn, he came towards the ram, the animal got frightened by the bear, the wilding leader took its rein and pulled it, coming back towards the Thick Beard captain, there he made an abrupt movement with his arm, making the ram step ahead, Thuor held it. “Is that what ye want? Take it!” Barar shouted.
“Ye see… No death, no struggle, no bloodshed, ye take a good reputation as a patroller.” Thuor said to the captain.
The Thick Beard one gave no answer, and with a motion he made his men divide in two groups, each one on one side of the road, leaving free passage.
