by deSouza, Leo
“Stimulating…” Replied Torag.
The elf came through a door in the trunk and motioned to the dwarfs to follow him. “Come, master Lainor is waiting for you.” He said.
The company came after him to went through the door and entered a hollow in the trunk, a spacious room, then the guide left them. There was a table with some chairs, but neither the table nor the chairs were loose, they were actually carved from the trunk itself, rigid. A tall elf was standing facing away from them while staring through a window, as the dwarfs entered he turned to them, revealing himself to be an imposing elf, with his long black hair and his green eyes. “Welcome, Thuor RockFoot.” He said.
The captain bowed in respect to him.. “Greetings, Lord Lainor.”
“Sit down you all.” Said the elf motioning to the chairs.
Everyone sat, it was when they noticed that there was someone else in the room, someone the dwarfs already knew.
“Oh ye…” Torag was saying when Lainor interrupted him.
“This is my son, Alrid.” Lainor spoke pointing to another elf in the room.
This one was standing in a corner, he came and sat among the dwarfs at the table, it was the same elf they met before in the Boulder Village, and then in the Noon Dale. Every dwarf there had some things to say, but as Lainor revealed him to be his son, they decided to stay quiet.
“Your dwelling is still as impressive as always. I praise ye for your craft in carving the wood this way, still keeping the tree standing.” Said Thuor.
“Mainar is wise. This tree is alive, and we wouldn’t live here without its consent, its spirit is old and strong. This is why we must pray prayers to it every day. Thanking it for allowing us to have our home here, and for keeping us safe, far from the dangers on the ground.” Said Lainor.
Olaf coughed. “Excuse me, Lord Lainor. But I saw many hollows inside this tree, and some of them were big, I mean, big enough for me to wonder about how ye can carve into the trunk this way without felling the tree.”
“Olaf is a skilled one when it comes to construction.” Thuor added.
“As I said, master Dwarf. Mainar is wise, it allows us to carve into it, but not just any way we conceive. You see… There are many nodes on the trunk, points at which we don’t dare carve, for we know that there lies the firmness of the entire tree. And there are even other parts where we carve, but Mainar fills them again with its flesh, blocking the paths and rooms. So we know that it is when its wisdom is working, thus we carve in another direction, not to defy its decisions.” Spoke Lainor
Torag nodded as he frowned, impressed.
“My servant told me that you came to treat with me, and I guess you are also looking for housing.” Continued Lainor.
“Oh yes. We are travelling towards the south and it has been a long and tiring journey. So we came to friendly lands, looking for hospitality, and good advice. We come under the grace of King Frar.” Answered Thuor.
“Under the grace of the noble King of the north, then my house is yours. We welcome you, and be sure proper accommodations will be ready for you soon. Now tell me, captain Thuor, what is this journey about?” Lainor asked.
“It is something that we avoid spreading around, but I’m sure that ye deserve to be trusted, as always. We are chasing a stranger who is wandering in the east, one never seen before. One who talks to beasts, and flies riding them.” Said Thuor.
Lainor crossed his thin white hands. “The Dark Rider and his mount, an aberration for sure.” He said.
Thuor was surprised. “Oh ye already know about it?”
“Of course I do. As you can see, master dwarf, we dwell in the skies for our trees are high. And from here we can see far away, our eyes cover all these lands. Yes, I know about him, probably even more than you. I was talking to an old friend about this just a while before you arrived, an old friend who is wise and who has interest in this kind of matter, for he feels responsible for such things, a guardian, I could say, he left just a while before you came.” Said Lainor.
“So many ones already know about what is happening.” Thuor replied.
“I would say the right people are getting warned about it, there are silent eyes watching around, not all the ones who wander on these lands are intruders, some are peace keepers. My own son here told me about this Dark Rider.” Said Lainor.
All the dwarfs looked at Alrid, expecting to hear something from him, he arranged himself on the chair and spoke: “It is true. You remember my partners at the boulder village. We left the inn right after you caused all that quarrel…”
“This is up to be contested.” Torag interrupted him.
Alrid looked at the dwarf, vexed. “As I was telling, we left and travelled fast till we reached the plains where the gigantic animals live, there we faced the abominable creature and his rider.”
“Ye faced?” Asked Thuor.
“As you can guess, we did what we could. But our arrows and blades were useless against the thick skin of that monster… Actually, we did not even have the chance to hit him once. Except for our leader, Baltar, the bald dwarf. I think he hit the monster at least one time.” Said Alrid.
“And where are your partners?” Asked Thuor.
The elf raised one eyebrow. “Dead of course. They have fallen, with bravery.”
Olaf suddenly had a thought, he suspected the elf, but asked without revealing his doubts. “How did ye escape?”
“I was far away, pissing.” Answered Alrid.
Under the table, Olaf slightly kicked Rurur’s leg.
“Anyway it does not matter now.” Broke in Lainor. “The issue is that there is right now an evil rider flying on a savage beast over our lands, and that concerns us all.”
Thuor nodded. “What do ye think, master Lainor?”
“He does not belong to these lands, he came to take his beast, for these flying monsters fly far away from the land of shadow to our eastern steppes. Thus I don’t believe he is here to challenge the eastern folks by himself, not even a flying beast can threaten the legions of dwarfs inside their caves, or the eastern men in their cities above the ground. There must be a greater purpose.” Said Lainor.
“Meanwhile many folks are dying. I say, we should get a catapult, or a ballista and hit the bastard in the air, make him fall, and finish the job in case he is still alive after falling!” Said Torag excited as his hand hammered the table.
No one answered him, and his gesture seemed somewhat rude to the others.
“It seems ye are very well informed about this, master Lainor.” Said Thuor.
“Indeed. As I said, we have high eyes, and our scouts patrol the lands. We have no walls here, master dwarf, but we would know about any threat many days before it reached us.” Said Lainor.
The conversation continued and there were many questions and empty answers, something that made some of the dwarfs impatient, but Thuor knew that Lainor was revealing what he could, or at least what he thought of as being safe to tell. The fact is that among many uncertain replies, and questions answered with another questions, the dwarfs did not come to know much more about the Dark Rider, still Lainor seemed to know what he was talking about, and his wisdom was imposing. Noon came and the dwarfs were invited to the luncheon, Lainor himself had left, saying he would have to deal with other matters, but Alrid stayed with the dwarfs by order of his father. When the servants came bringing the food under the charge of Alrid, the dwarfs could detect the smell of roasted quail. It was an invigorating meal, everyone ate under the watchful eyes of the elf and in the end they all went outside the hollow to one of the branches, there they stood for a while. Torag was walking, pacing from here to there as he looked to the ground down below. “I see many folks down there, and they look like ants for me.” He said.
“Watch yourself and don’t slip, Torag. It is a long fall.” Said Olaf. “So…” He continued now turning to Alrid, who was nearby. “An excellent opportunity to make things clean! Can ye tell us what really happened on the log barrage? I
still think ye have something to do with what happened to our friend here.”
“Your friend pulled the lever and everything collapsed. That is what happened.” Alrid replied.
“Leave him. Olaf.” Said Torag. “He is not lying.”
Olaf seemed vexed. “Fine, fine… Ever happened to any of ye fall down?”
The elf shook his head. “No… We don’t walk in wrong steps. No elf has ever fallen.”
“I’ve heard some of ye are light enough to fly through the air…” Said Torag smiling maliciously and coming close to the others.
But the elf did not answer. The sun was going down, and its rays could be seen among the leaves of the immense trees like beams cutting the air, the dwarfs contemplated. There was another elf nearby, holding a strange instrument and rehearsing to throw it in the air.
“What is that?” Asked Torag.
Alrid raised his head and looked at it. “Burang… He is about to hit a nut, so someone down there will collect it later.”
They looked at the elf with the strange instrument in his hands, he threw it, the thing flew away spinning in the air and they saw when it passed near a nut on a tree branch but did not hit it, the object made a curve and returned to the hands of its owner. Torag pointed at it smiling and looked at the other dwarfs.
“Burang it is. Made in wood, to hit nuts on the trees, or any other thing, depending on the target.” Said Alrid.
Torag seemed very interested. “Can it be used as a weapon?”
Alrid motioned. “Well… It is made of raw wood, but one could try fastening a blade on it.”
Torag was firmly looking at the elf with the burang in his hands, he saw when the elf threw it one more time, the object flew away spinning again and this time it hit the nut, breaking its stalk and both the burang and the nut fell down.
“Ye said it could hit other things.” Torag spoke.
“That is right. The big head of a surly dwarf could set a good target. But it would work well for any other thing, I guess.” Replied Alrid.
“Ha!” Exclaimed Torag placing his hands on his hips and bulging his belly. “I would like to have one!”
“For what, Torag?” Asked Thuor.
“For hitting some rogue’s head of course! I mean… If needed.” Replied Torag.
Rurur shook his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea, I can already see this thing flying around after Torag has made changes to it. No neck would be safe, including our ones.”
Torag replied: “Naaah… Ye are just too fearful as always, I will tell ye what. I will take one of these things and put a light blade on it, very sharp, very thin. Then ye can think about how useful it would be, just imagine that something shows up, a goblin… Or maybe any other enemy!” He said looking to Alrid with an insinuating look. “I would throw it, and if it does not hit, then it would come back to my hand so I could try another time.”
“What if it cut your hand when ye try to take it back?” Asked Olaf.
Torag shrugged. “Well… Nothing that some practice could not solve.”
“Ye can take your burang, Torag, and practice with it a lot before setting a blade on it. Then ye put the blade, and try it again, but very far from us. It will probably cut your neck off, but this is a matter of yours.” Said Olaf.
“Ye bet! How can I get one?” Asked Torag looking at Alrid.
The elf made a lofty expression, then he whistled and motioned to another elf far from there. The other one came and approached the group, on his back they could see a pack and on it some more burangs, Alrid took one of them, he examined the object for a moment holding it in his hands. “Well… Master dwarf. You can take one, if you want it so. This is a traditional piece of my folk. Accept it as a gift, in the name of my father.” He spoke.
Torag smiled and came to Alrid, taking the burang from his hands. He raised the object to his eye level and stood there looking at it like a child who just got a new toy. Alrid looked at the other elf and talked in their own language so that the dwarfs could not understand, not even Torag, for this was an ancient form of elf language. “The idiot is planning to pin a blade on it.” Alrid said.
The other elf looked at him in surprise, then back to Torag. “He will probably cut his head off.” He said in his own language.
Alrid smiled maliciously. “I would like to hear about the results of your idea, Torag.” He said now in the common language.
“Oh ye will… Ye can count on this.” Replied Torag still looking fascinated at the burang.
Thuor snorted as he propped on the ground to rise. “Well… the sun is going down fast, I believe it is time for us to gather and retire. I would like to ask ye, Alrid, to take us to our room where we could rest. For we still must discuss some matters.”
“Right!” Said Alrid rising in a jump with no effort. “I will take you to a good clean warm room.” The elf walked back to the trunk towards a door.
The dwarfs followed him, everyone stepped inside and the group went up for some levels even further upstairs. The trunk became thinner and they reached its top, there they found a small hollowed out room with some beds and furniture, small round holes in the trunk were windows that gave them a view outside where they could see the last branches of the tree.
“You are free to walk through Mainar. Though I would not recommend any of you walking around on the branches, specially at night, as you already noticed, it’s a long fall down there.” Said Alrid. He left and closed the door.
The dwarfs arranged their stuff around the room, Olaf sat on a bed and lit his pipe, Torag came to a window and put Balfour there while talking to him, then left to an outside balcony, he stood there simulating throws with his burang, as if training to really do it, but never doing. Rurur laid down for a nap, Thuor kept inside the room, examining maps and making notes.
When night finally came, they gathered again in the dining room, but Lainor was not there, Alrid himself told them that his father had left to deal with a different matter and that they would not see him anytime soon. During the meal Rurur got interested in a wooden made fork, he was impressed by the fact that almost everything there was made of wood, and he got to start a conversation with one of the servants who told him about how the elves could move from one tree to another through the trunks. He also got excited when he came to know that there was an approaching festival of foods and beverages where all the peoples from the various trees shared their meals, so that he promised to come back bringing some of his own cookery when the festival happened. The dwarfs spent some time in the room talking with Alrid about trivial matters, fool comparisons between life under the ground and above the trees made by Rurur, questioning about how the elves would defend themselves in case of any aggression in that place, and finally conversations about the rumors of war and the position of the elves in that context.
“We are not going to get involved in this…” Said Alrid as he leaned against his chair after finishing his meal. “We are the ones who refused to leave this world, our kin in the west are leaving, but we don’t.”
“Why?” Asked Torag.
“Because we see no reason for leaving… War comes and goes, there are threats in all eras, and challenges to face, but we are still here, these trees are still here, and so it will be.” Replied Alrid.
“Ye really believe ye can just sit here and watch the world burn…” Said Torag.
“This is what we always have being doing. And what is the matter? We are not causing any struggle, not inflaming the moods, nor playing war drums. If men and other folks are willing to kill and raze, then let them do it by themselves.” Replied Alrid.
The dinner was over, Alrid said good night and left, the dwarfs went to their room again, and there they prepared to rest. Looking out they could see the lights coming from the holes in the other tree’s trunks, like shining points in the darkness, but organized so one could see where the rooms were, and small windows along the spiral staircases inside the trunks formed a formidable sight to the eyes of
the dwarfs now that they were lightened from inside. Everyone laid down on their beds, there the dwarfs slept, safe at the top of the huge tree, far from the threats on the ground.
When morning came, the company woke up before the sunrise, they gathered their things and prepared to leave. Alrid knocked on the door, Olaf opened it and the elf spoke as he leaned against the door case. “How was the sleeping?”
“Invigorating, master Alrid. And I thank ye for providing us good safe resting.” Said Thuor.
The elf stepped inside the room. “Well… I suppose you are leaving, as you said before.”
“That is right. We may come back a second time with more time to spend here, but for now we must take the road.” Replied Thuor.
“Fine…” Said the elf. “Now let me show you something.” He went out of the room and in no time came back pulling a rein, and the dwarfs were surprised when they saw their ram, Jewelry, coming tied to it.
“By my beard! Why did ye bring it here?” Asked Rurur.
“I did not…” Replied the elf. “Your animal gnawed the rein and broke free, then climbed the staircase, one of the tenants found him outside the trunk on one of the branches, I would say it was luck that prevented him from falling.”
Rurur approached the ram then stroked its neck.
“It seems that the animal felt lonely, and looked for you.” Alrid added.
“Well… Whatever, one thing is right, this is no place for a ram.” Said Olaf.
“Nor for a dwarf!” Exclaimed Torag. “It’s time for leaving!”
Alrid clapped. “Right, high dwellings for tall people, base dwelling to short ones. But let me tell you, that you will not need to go down again, there is another way out of this realm, the trunk path.”
“Oh I know, the way through the trunks. Where can it take us?” Asked Rurur.
“Outside the realm, to the border and the last tree, there you will find a branch that leads to a cliff, you can go downhill on the ground.” Said Alrid.
“That seems fine. But what about walking on the branches?” Asked Thuor.
“It is good enough for a dwarf foot, I suppose it will be good for a ram too.” Replied Alrid.
