by deSouza, Leo
Rurur took the bottle and drank it, immediately feeling the heat through his throat, the other ones came and also drank. Then the group left back to the path, they went all the way back to the road, and all of them were happy to leave the place. It was a warm morning and as company got away from the tomb they could see again many butterflies and squirrels around, as well as healthy vegetation again. When they finally reached the road they stopped there and prepared breakfast. Sausages and bread, and still some of Altar’s beverage, Attitude. As they ate the dwarfs began to recover their memories about what happened.
“I remember now…” Said Rurur as he chewed. “Torag was the first one, he was in a fury outbreak.”
Torag spat something on the ground behind him. “Yes I was, I got angry when I saw the bastard doing his dirtiness.”
“Dirtiness! You say dirtiness, but what you really witnessed was pure witchcraft, necromancy!” Exclaimed Altar.
“What is this about? I don’t get it.” Said Rurur.
“Necromancy. A special type of witchcraft, wicked, evil, perverse. One who deals with it can manage the mysteries of death, talk to the dead, and even evoke them. And as you came to know before, he has his own designs…” Said Altar.
“Who is this damn rider after all?” Torag asked.
Altar looked down as he chewed some bread, thoughtful. “He is someone who should not be here. His permanence among the living beings is unnatural, he does not belong to this world.” He said.
“And how did he come here, how is it possible?” Asked Thuor.
“Ask me about who brought him here! I have my guess, and my guesses used to be right. If things are as I think they are, then this plot is even more complicated. The one who brought him to this world has greater power than he himself. But it seems that now someway, somehow, he is doing the craft of his master. He should not be here, this is for sure, this is not natural.” Said Altar.
“Does he have a name?” Asked Rurur.
“Name? No… He once had, but it is now long forgotten. He once was a bright king who dwelt these lands, a king of the eastern men, father of a lineage that now is dispersed.” Said Altar in a somber tone.
Rurur looked around the grove, everything was normal and it was actually a pleasant day.
“Has he come back to reclaim his throne?” Asked Torag.
“No. He was brought back with another purpose, by someone who has a bigger plan in mind, not just for the east, but for all of this world.” Said Altar.
“And who is this one?” Asked Thuor.
Altar looked into space as if visualizing something in his mind. “He lies in his dark tower of power and malignancy, in the dark lands of the south, but his name is not to be pronounced. Let’s not talk about him now.” Said Altar.
“So let me guess…” Torag spoke. “A Dark Rider enters our lands, we come after him, someone in the Golden City sends assassins to kill us, because someone does not want us sticking our noses in his affairs! And now we come to know that there is someone even bigger behind all this! It seems like a never ending conspiracy.”
Now Altar nodded slightly. “A good conclusion, master Torag. Yes, the assassins who came to you were from the Golden City, the capital of the eastern men. And the one who sent them, for some reason, wants to stop you from investigating about all this.”
“That seems reasonable, for if it is really as you say, the Dark Rider was once a King among eastern men, someone in their city is involved in this.” Thuor said.
“Yes, and that makes things even more worrying, and dangerous for us all.” Altar said.
“For us all?” Torag broke in. “Well, my dear Altar, not to underestimate ye but, we have been involved in many dangerous situations since we left our home, and you just came into this.”
“Do you think you are the only ones being chased for investigating about this? No, master dwarf, they came after me too.” Altar said.
“The assassins? The Black Viper Clan?” Thuor asked.
“Yes! Many of them, I met them some time ago, and I had to deal with them.” Altar said.
“Ye killed them all!” Torag exclaimed.
“I… Neutralized them, Torag, so to say.” Altar replied.
“Good…” Torag whispered. “I’m starting to trust ye after all…”
“I hope so!” Altar continued. “We must trust each other now, for our foes would like to see strife between friends.”
“We are in the middle of a big matter! War, Kings, betrayal, murdering and witchcraft!” Torag exclaimed.
Olaf suddenly looked at him, as if caught by something he said.
“Yes, but these are great guesses, and we can’t be sure about anything.” Altar replied.
“Well I’m leaning to trust all this after all I saw.” Said Torag.
“Tell us more about our Rider, the former king among men. What about what he was doing with the dead dwarf fellow down there. I never liked this bald one, but I think such a punishment was too much for him.” Said Rurur.
“For now and then we are going to call him warlock, not dark rider anymore, for this is a more appropriate title for him.” Altar said. “He is practicing the art that enabled his own master to bring him to this world, I don’t understand yet his purposes, but I can say that this is not over yet.”
“What? What do ye mean? Don’t tell me ye did not destroy him.” Said Rurur.
Altar shook his head. “I’m afraid that… I could not destroy him even if I wanted it, for my power is not meant to match him, my purpose since the beggining was to cast him out. I was strong enough to repel him from here, although he did not offer much resistance, he just left, it seems that whatever his work was here, his job was already finished, so he left, probably towards an even more evil objective. He came here with a purpose, and if he left it is because he completed his plan here, but his influence among these lands is about to be revealed. I believe we will soon come to understand his plan, and the consequences of what he did, he is planting seeds of evil.”
“Why don’t we go down there again to examine the dead dwarf body? As sick as it would be, I realize.” Said Torag.
“I already did.” Altar replied. “And let me say to you, that I had to break the spell on it, for he was about to walk among the living ones again.”
“It sounds like a horror story, like the ones my grandfather used to tell to me and my cousins back when I was a kid.” Said Rurur.
“Now you know, master Rurur, that many old horror stories are actually true.” Said Altar.
“I should have killed him when I had the chance.” Said Torag after biting a big piece of sausage.
“Oh ye should. I saw when you flew through the air like a thrown bag of potatoes.” Said Rurur.
“You could not! Altar broke in. “Never, as mighty as you are, Torag. He is an enemy above you, actually, you should be thankful to still be alive, for not many who cross his path live to tell the story, unless you are powerful enough, or lucky enough.”
“Powerful enough, like who?” Thuor asked.
“Well the mighty ones are not only among the evil side, there are fair lords who dwell this world, and some of them are a match for the worst of the devils. Master Lainor, the elf lord you came to know, just to quote one.” Altar spoke.
“Lainor? The elf on the high tree? Did he face the Dark Rider?” Torag asked.
“I believe they had a meeting, and though none was really victorious in the strife, I think our foe left somehow regretful of his decision about attacking lord Lainor.” Altar said.
“But he is just an elf! He did not tell us about this.” Torag insisted.
“The mighty ones used to be taciturn, and he is for sure not an ordinary elf.” Altar said. “A common one could not face one of these specters.”
“These? There is more than one?” Asked Rurur.
“Yes, once sovereign kings, now slaves to a greater consciousness, if my guesses are really right.” Said Altar.
“Do ye think this
has to do with war in the west?” Asked Torag.
The old man nodded slightly and spoke: “Yes… I think so. There are forces moving, many armies, and they need charge. These old kings are being brought back for their crafts in war and malice, they are being used towards a bigger purpose. Woe to the western folks, for their time is coming, and doom is at hand.”
“If it is terrible as ye say, why are we not dead now?” Asked Thuor.
“Because I came just in time. And because of the beverage you drank, Attitude as I call it.” Said Altar.
“Do ye say a beverage saved us?” Asked Torag.
“It saved you, master Torag. Why do you think Olaf was the only one to resist the petrifying charm? Didn’t you notice you got very willing after you drank it? You and master Olaf here.” Said Altar.
“Oh that petrifying was terrible for sure.” Said Rurur. “I felt like every blood drop had left my body and my bones were about to crack, so cold it was. I felt as if my soul had abandoned me! Never felt such a cold before.”
“Wicked witchcraft, deals with death, steals life from you.” Said Altar.
“So how does this beverage work? It gives power to one?” Asked Torag.
“Yes… But it does not bring it from outside you, it only awakes something that was already inside you. In your case, my fellow dwarfs, this beverage brought from the deep of your beings the force that dwells in all dwarf folk. Toughness, endurance and a bit of stubbornness, these are your main characteristics, the beverage only potentiates it. These characteristics are specially notable when it comes to resist someone’s charms. Dwarfs are naturally resistant to magic, and the beverage makes you even more difficult to bewitch.” Replied Altar.
“It was this, I thought they were completely drunken.” Said Thuor.
“We were…” Torag whispered, then he slapped his thigh. “Ye could give us the recipe.” He said.
Altar shook his head. “No, I could not. The one who taught me it made me swear I would never tell it to anyone else.”
“And who is he?” Torag asked.
“The biggest of us, though he does not belong to the same brotherhood as me, they have their own council in the west. Anyway I can give you a bottle of the beverage or two, if you really liked it. But be aware, for like any other beverage, it can get you drunk.” Said Altar.
“Fine, ye once promised to tell more about yourself, master Altar. Where do ye come from, and with what purpose. I had asked ye this before, but I don’t remember ye giving us proper answers.” Thuor said.
“That is fair.” Said Altar. “Let me tell you, you already know my name, at least one of them, I’m one of the wizards who dwell in this world. We came with a purpose and we are now spread among the many wildernesses. Some of us are in the west, in the east there is me and another one, we used to travel together here, but he left, he is now on the way south, sent there to deal with many matters. Is that enough?”
“No.” Torag broke in. “What is the main purpose of your brotherhood?”
“To bring balance to the world, Torag, and to keep things ongoing.”
“What about these blue clothes ye wear now? When did you change it?” Rurur asked.
“This is because I was trying to be discrete before, and now the time came for me to reveal myself, though the discretion seems not to have worked the way I planned.” Altar said.
Chews and burps were heard till Altar spoke again, now to Olaf: “What about you? You have been quiet since we left the tomb.”
Olaf was really too quiet, everyone now looked at him as they realized the dwarf had said nothing since they left the tomb.
“I had a nightmare while I was unconscious.” Olaf said.
Now everyone looked at him.
“Another one?” Rurur asked.
“I’ve been hearing ye all talk…” Olaf continued. “But seems none of ye got to know what I did.”
“What are ye talking about?” Torag asked with a disinterested tone.
“Something big is about to happen.” Olaf replied, serious. “Yes… Another nightmare. But a different one… There was much death, more than one could imagine… Death coming to the living ones, bones, rotten flesh, blood… I even thought I could feel the smell of rotten.”
“War.” Torag spoke.
Olaf shook his head then deeply looked to him. “Not war, not the way we know… Something even worse, something that could change the fate of everyone. Something I could not describe, I just know.”
Altar now had the most serious mien, he spoke: “You know like the Warlock knows, that is why you feel this way…” He looked at the dwarf as if he had something terrible and unspeakable in his mind, then all of sudden he opened a smile. “What about your fairy?” He asked, suddenly changing the subject.
“My what? I never thought about her as mine, I actually forgot about her.” Replied Olaf.
“I did not. And while you were inside the tomb, I had a small understanding with her.” Said Altar reaching for the bottle with the fairy inside on the ram’s saddle, he opened the bottle and freed the creature, she flew around agitated, then came to Olaf’s shoulder and sat there, the dwarf looked at her. “Why ye did that? I will not manage to trap her again!” Said Olaf.
“I hope not! She chose you, master Olaf. You should be grateful, for she can be a precious companion on a journey.” Said Altar.
“I wonder how…” Replied Olaf shaking his head and then biting a piece of sausage.
The group finished the meal and prepared again to leave, they hit the road and were now travelling through the grove, the fairy came sat on Olaf’s shoulder, and he was not that happy about it, but decided to follow Altar’s instructions. Rurur was talking to the ram, Jewelry, as they walked, he asked the animal about how it was feeling as if expecting it to answer like a person. A bird landed on Altar’s shoulder and hooted in his ear, then flew away, Olaf found it curious.
“Someone just told me that the grove is happy with what happened last night at the tomb. I was told that now that the evil is gone everyone can dwell again in peace throughout the woods.” Said Altar.
“Ye talk to animals now?” Asked Olaf.
“No, I don’t talk, but they can tell me a good story.” Said Altar.
Torag glanced at Olaf and shook his head while twisting his mouth, both chuckled.
“I can talk to birds.” Whispered Torag as he stroked Balfour who was perched on his shoulder.
“So, my dear Altar, wizard and friend of the animals. Are ye going to stay with us?” Asked Olaf.
“I’m afraid I could not stay among such a lovely company of dwarfs. My time is running out and there are matters to deal with. The events of the last night were quite conclusive, but it also opened a large verge of new doubts. I will leave for now, to look for more light among all this haze.” Said Altar.
“Oh that’s a pity. When?” Asked Olaf.
“As soon as we leave the grove, for then there is a fork in the road, one path leads south, another one takes the west again.”
Farewell and good luck.
The group was now walking calmly on the road. For a while nothing had been seen but the woods and its dwellers. The company travelled for the entire morning and when they finally left the grove and came into open fields again, they saw the sun shining above their heads, and a fresh wind blew on their faces, making them feel somehow better after the walking inside the stuffy grove. The walking kept through a wild field, covered by weed and some sparse bushes, at a distance they saw a small house with smoke coming from its chimney.
“There lives a friend of mine, a good man, and a trusted ally.” Said Altar.
They went to the house and Altar knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Asked a loud voice from inside the house.
“Urtag! My dear friend. Don’t you recognize the knocking of a friend anymore?” Said Altar loudly.
There was a moment of silence, then the dwarfs heard hurried footsteps on a wooden floor, the door opened an
d from inside the building came a short man, almost the size of a dwarf, just a little bit higher, and he was strong, his arms were muscular and he had a jovial face. “Altar!” He exclaimed opening his arms.
“It seems it is still easy to find you in your house, my friend.” Said altar hugging the short man.
“I thought you were dead!” Said Urtag.
“Oh I was! But I came back to charge you that debt.” Said Altar.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. If it is about the mule I once bought from you, I’m not going to repeat for the hundredth time that I have already paid you. You must take some tonic for your memory.” Said Urtag.
“One who forgets a paid debt can charge again, that is the advantage.” Replied Altar.
“Right, except if the debtor is not stupid enough to fall for such a trick.” Replied Urtag smiling. “And who are these?” He asked looking at the dwarfs.
Altar gave space and reached out to the dwarfs. “These are my new fellow travelers, a short travel after all, but still a travel.” Said Altar.
“Travel… Come in, let’s talk about this.” Said Urtag giving space for the company to enter.
Rurur tied the ram to a log and they entered the house, Balfour, the hawk, stayed outside perched on the saddle. It was clean house, wooden furniture and many birds in cages, the smell of something roasting in the oven filled the air and made the dwarfs’ stomachs growl. Everyone sat on a big wooden bench, Urtag went to a corner and picked up a large bottle and many cups, he distributed the cups among the dwarfs and in the end gave one to Altar and kept one to himself; when he opened the bottle everyone immediately noticed a strong smell of honey.
“Is it the old and good mead from your fellow wife?” Asked Altar reaching his cup out.
Urtag made a fake smile and filled Altar’s cup with the beverage. “Not this one. I did this by myself, as a way of honoring her. She died, last summer.” Said he, sitting on the wooden bench.
“Oh, this is unfortunate. I remember lady Kalinpa pretty well. A big loss, for sure. How did it happen?” Asked Altar.
“She got sick, a strange sickness that I had never seen before. She lost her appetite and began to lose weight... I thought it was some summer fever but things happened quickly... Soon she was too thin, her eyes went deep and dark, and the joy left her face.” Said Urtag.
