The Eastern Dwarfs: Part Two - The Underground Journey

  The Eastern Dwarfs

  Part Two: The Underground journey

  By

  Leo deSouza

  Copyright © 2016

  www.theeasterndwarfs.com

  L egal notes.

  Copyright © 2016 by Leo deSouza. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  I ntroduction.

  The Eastern Dwarfs is a trilogy novel about the four dwarf houses of the east. The books will immerse the reader in the classic imaginary world we already love, while bringing fresh content for a completely new saga. New characters, landscapes and an entire plot telling the story about how the dwarfs of the east dealt with an unknown threat. A charming adventure for readers of all ages.

  Table of contents:

  Legal notes.

  Introduction.

  The legend of the greasy dwarf.

  The Narrow passage.

  The Red Star City.

  Green Healing.

  Secrets to be kept.

  Sea of flames.

  The fabulous thief of Arkara.

  Entering the darkness.

  A darkness dweller.

  The Pioneer’ Maze.

  Puzzles and stories.

  The Sinister’s pit.

  The mountaineers.

  Black Vipers.

  An unexpected meeting.

  Lizards and insects.

  Leaving the darkness.

  The prince of fire.

  The rebel princess.

  Hurried leavings.

  More about dwarfs.

  The legend of the greasy dwarf .

  On a starry night, sat in a dark dirty corner inside a jail wagon was a thin dwarf, a dwarf without a beard; in his face some scars and in his eyes a deep shine. He was not naturally thin but thin by the fact that he had lost much of the fat of his body over the last weeks. Along with him, sharing that cage, was an old man. Both were quiet as they heard the sound of crickets and the snoring of a big cat inside another jail nearby.

  “Hunf…” The man snorted breaking the silence. “It’s been a long time huh? How long? Since we got jailed here.”

  The dwarf nodded, a small weasel ran from the only pocket of his loin-cloth and hid in the straw on the floor.

  “Ribs, is it how you call this small rat?” The old man continued.

  “Not a rat, it’s a weasel.” The dwarf replied.

  “Whatever… He has been your partner for a long time now, guess you like each other.”

  The dwarf just smiled in response.

  “Some have luck, and some are like us, underdogs.” The man continued, he arranged himself, covering with a thin blanket. “I remember that day when they caught you… I never got to know what you was really doing there in the house of that noble one. I don’t believe the story you told me, my friend. Oh no… Old Bagard here can not be fooled so easy. You say you was stealing his coffin, yes… I’ve heard many stories about how filled that coffin was, they instigated my thieve instincts.”

  On his corner, the dwarf said nothing, he looked outside through the metal bars of the jail, as if trying to see if there was someone around.

  Bagard continued his speech: “You know what? I think we deserve to be here at all… Not that I like it, but it is comforting to think that you are suffering to pay for something you have done, and I’m paying the price for being your friend, they did not believe when I told them I had nothing to do with the stealing, but anyway, how many times we chatted about this? I think I’m getting mad…”

  The dwarf was now standing on the wooden covered with straw floor of the wagon while handling something as the man was looking at him with curiosity.

  “Is it the food you were stocking?” Bagard asked. “Why did you stop eating in the last times? Don’t tell me you are planning to commit suicide by starving… They will not allow you, they will stick the food down your throat if necessary.”

  But the dwarf still did not answer, he had a roguish smile on his face and was now taking something from inside a pot, something that had a bad smell, he started passing this thing on his own body, wiping it.

  “What is it? You passing grease on yourself? Hah… Guess they would throw you to the big cats den if they found you like this, already spicy.” The man spoke.

  But again, the dwarf gave no answer, Bagard was right, the thing is his hands was grease, he kept passing it on his torso, always smiling as someone who is about to make a mischief. When he finished, the pot was dropped on the ground, he moved towards the cage bars and hung on them with his hands, looking around to check if there was someone nearby. As he found no one watching, he then turned his shoulder towards the bars and slipped it between two of them, the dwarf began to slide, Bagard looked at him and spoke: “You think you will pass through the bars? Even a dog could not…”

  His speech made sense, as the distance between the bars was too short, but just after he said it, the dwarf slipped his torso through the bars, getting half of his body out of the jail, the man wide eyed. The dwarf snorted, made effort, squinted and furrowed, but after some time he realized he got trapped.

  “You stuck…” Spoke Bagard. “Well… I think I could help you, once you tell me either you would like me to push or pull.”

  The dwarf looked up and down, then suddenly exhaled all the air from his lungs and made an effort to move, he passed the bars and went outside, falling on the ground and hitting his belly and his face on the dry soil, making a flump. The man quickly raised, he went to the bars and looked at the dwarf there outside, this one was now slapping himself to clean from dust.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” Bagard asked.

  No answer again, the fugitive reached to the wagon floor, there came the weasel among the straw, the small animal ran over his arm and got into the pocket again, then the dwarf left going out of the man’s sight, the old man came back to the corner and sat again. A few moments after it the fugitive came back, dragging with some effort an unconscious guard, he then took a pair of gloves from him, and put them on.

  “Is it your old pair of gloves? Well I guess you looked forward a long time to take it back.” Bagard spoke.

  Then the dwarf took a bunch of keys on the man’s belt, he raised it in the air showing it to his cellmate as he smiled.

  “Oh… No.” Bagard said. “I could not escape. How far one like me could go? Don’t you know my leg is broken? I could not get too far, and soon they would find me again. It would be worst, they would punish me, this is my place, the last place for an old tired one like me.”

  The dwarf shrugged and turned to leave.

  “Hey… Tell someone about me…” Bagard spoke. “Tell about how I lived, at least my memory will remain.”

  The dwarf looked at him for a moment, then left, now once and for all.

  In the next morning, a man came to the jail wagon and hit the bars with a truncheon, he woke the old man inside it. “Wake up, geezer.” He said.

  Bagard woke up, looking at the guard.

  “Someone gave me a hit in my head last night, and stole my pair of gloves.” The guard continued.

  Bagard chuckled: “Well, it is like we used to say, a thief who steals from another thief deserves a hundred years of forgiveness.”

  The guard got vexed. “Mind your words, old scum, you will be sold today, I hope you still have some utility for someone to pay for you. It is getting difficult to find good slaves nowadays, everyone is going to war. Try not to let anyone see this rotten leg�
�� No one would pay for an old lame chunk.”

  Bagard just looked at him in sarcasm.

  “Don’t look at me like this.” The guard continued. “I swear I would like to beat you for what happened last night, but they are looking for someone to blame, and you don’t look in conditions to be guilty.”

  “What are you talking about? Don’t tell anyone you have been robbed, they will mock you.” Said Bagard.

  “The cats, the big ones. Someone freed them from the jails. They are right now being chased, some were already killed, but the men are having a hard time trying to capture them. They caused a big mess anyway.” Said the guard.

  “Oh that is nasty!” Bagard spoke, laughing.

  The guard spat on the ground, he turned to the corner where he thought the dwarf should be. “What about you, you worthless dwa… Hey! Where is he?” He asked as he saw the dwarf was no longer inside the jail.

  The old man was now laughing loudly. “The shameless dwarf is gone!” He exclaimed. “He passed through the bars! Ha! Little scamp!”

  The guard left running as he shouted: “The dwarf has escaped! Warn the guards on the gates!” His voice sounded as the old man inside the jail could hear while laughing.

  But in that morning, as much as the guards looked for the dwarf, they did not find him. These men were slave traders and the place where all this scene happened was the Golden City, the capital of the eastern men. A huge city circled by tall and thick walls, its tall towers and buildings’ roofs shined against the sun light in golden tones of color, composing an impressive sight for anyone looking at it. There many men and women dwelled, in many houses and even in some sophisticated tents, they were the eastern race of man, skilled craftsmen, fierce warriors and sages, and exceptional traders. These folks were now in struggle against the men of the west in their northern houses and even involved in war between the forces of the Dark Lord and the men of the White City, in the southwest. This country was capable of gathering large armies and craft war wagons, their weapons could look strange for an observer coming from different lands but they were as useful as the ones from the other folks, and maybe even more terrible. In addition, they were capable of taming beasts to use them in war, like the ones they called Zilonis, the creatures similar to the elephants we know, but far bigger. They were tribal folks, living under the heavy hand of a despot king, someone who inspired respect and fear among his own folks and also others. The dwarfs of the east had a good neighborhood with them, never going into struggle and respecting the borders, but these people were not a single clan, many other groups from this kind dwelled on the Eastern Lands, even close to the dwarf stronghold of the Stiff Beards, and sometimes making agreements about farming and trade, as told before. If there was something that made these kind of men really different from the western ones, it was the slavery, a practice that they used to keep; slave traders who captured folks around the lands dwelled there, dwarfs, elves and even man from his own kind. There were open fairs in the streets of their big Golden City capital to sell slaves, they were shown inside jail wagons, the same type as the one from which the greasy dwarf had escaped. Right now some of these wagons were exposed to the potential slave buyers, land owners interested in strong arms to work for them in crops and mining. Inside the jails were slaves and animals, except for the big cats who were now free. But in one of these wagons there was now only one person while there should be two, the old man who saw the dwarf escape the night before. Sitting while leaning against the bars, he now watched people look at him while choosing which slave to buy, but the happening of the last night made him somehow joyful, despite his own situation. The same guard from before approached and poked the old man from outside with his truncheon. “Do you know what will happen when they find the little rascal?” He asked. “I tell you, he will be put in a pit hole to smash manure with his feet till the day of his death. Seems a good punishment? You are lucky that the Master decided to spare you on this. I still believe you helped the dwarf in some way, he could not escape that easy. Anyway… If this prolongs too much, they will for sure call the Black Viper Assassins to go after him.”

  Bagard gave no answer, he stayed there sat as people around examined him.

  “Now tell me, geezer, and depending on your answer I will maybe beat you less the next time.” The guard spoke. “What was the secret of those gloves? I first heard the dwarf could make many nasty things when using them. Never got it to work by myself.”

  “This is because only a smart one could use it properly, not a stupid rascal like you!” Bagard replied.

  The guard poked him again, now stronger, making the old man moan. “How long you think this foolishness will take?” He continued. “He cannot leave the city, all the gates are guarded. I’m right now thinking about your situation… Do you know what will happen to you if no one comes to buy you? Well… There is always the games that people will pay to watch… People like to see man against beasts… Even if this match does not lasts much.”

  The guard left, beating his truncheon against the bars of the jail. Bagard stood there, now alone, he could hear the voice of the slave trader announcing his products to the passing folks. Time passed, many ones came to the fair looking for slaves, but none showed interest in the old man; even not knowing about his leg, they could see the age in his face, and he made no effort to hide his tiredness, Bagard had a dismayed mien. It was almost noon when one approached the wagon dressed in cloak and hood, his face covered so none could see, small, hasty steps, he came to the trader and reached him some coins, then pointed to the old man inside the wagon. The trader took the coins and counted it. “Oh greeting sir! This is a good slave, his arms are still strong, and he does not complain much, sometimes this is better than having a young troublemaker. I would say… Five more coins are enough.” He said.

  The newcomer just shrugged and shook his head.

  “What is it noble sir? Someone like you would not make a point about just a few coins.” The trader insisted

  The one under the hood said nothing.

  “Well… Fine then. One must be generous with customers, after all the Master has a name to keep, and we must honor it. You are making an excellent buying, believe me you will not find a better one around.” The trader spoke

  Now the newcomer approached the wagon and hit it with his palm two times, then pointed to a horse nearby, and then finally took some more coins from inside a pocket and reached them to the trader.

  This one furrowed finding it surprisingly. “I see… You have more coins after all.” He spoke. “But you want more than a slave. A wagon and a horse is a big amount of trade is not it? Well in this case, you will you win me in bargain. The wagon and the animal are not for sale now, but a good deal is always a good deal, make a better offer.”

  The mysterious newcomer stood silent, he looked around and saw a big strong ram, then pointed at it.

  “I thought you would offer me more coins, but you decreased the goods. Is it the ram you want?” The trader spoke, he got thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his chin and looking at the animal, the wagon and the man inside it, then finally clapped his thigh and spoke again: “Fine! It’s a deal. I guess the Master will be happy with this.” He reached for the buyer and took from him the coins, then went to the ram and brought it pulling its rein.

  The newcomer took the animal to the front of the wagon and tied it to the beams, then jumped on it and stirred the animal, the wheels began to roll and they slowly left the place towards the street, passing among people.

  “Hey!” The trader shouted.

  The buyer did not stop, but the man came after the wagon. “Take the title.” He said reaching a piece of parchment to the buyer.

  This one took it and again stirred the ram to leave. The old man inside the jail wagon looked at his new mysterious master’s back, somehow recognizing that shape. They crossed the city through the streets, passed many houses, folks and garrisons composed by many warriors, but none seemed to give them much attenti
on as a jail wagon with a slave inside was not that much of an uncommon thing to see there, through some found it strange to see a ram pulling it. When they reached the city gates, the wagon stopped and a guard came to them. “You bought this slave? Where is the title?” He asked.

  The wagon driver reached the parchment out to the guard, this one checked it and gave it back, then hissed loudly, someone on the gatehouse moved a lever and the big wooden gate began to open, the wagon passed through it. It went out of the city, following the paved road; out there were still people, some coming, some leaving, the whole place was full of passers-by, and even garrisons of warriors could be seen marching around. The old man inside the wagon gazed at the city walls behind, he saw there at its top the sentinels watching the surroundings as the banners with this country’s flag swung against the wind, red banners with their symbol on it, an enrolled black snake. That was the last time the old man saw this sight, he turned back to see his new master guiding the wagon, but decided to say nothing. For the entire morning they travelled in silence, using the road that went east. These lands were a rich area were folks planted many grains and had many grazing animals, many of these beasts were the white cattle type one and as the wagon passed, its passengers could see many of these animals around being pastored by famers. It was the last month of the autumn, and in this region almost all the trees had already lost their leaves, except for the trees known as Golden Twilight, a flashy type of tree that grew yellow leaves that shined against sunset like gold nuggets on the fields. But nothing from the ambience around got the old man’s attention inside the jail, he was now thoughtful about what would happen, his new mysterious master could be taking him anywhere, and yet none of the hypotheses seemed less or more bad for him, he knew that as a slave the only expectations he could have were about to work hard for the rest of his life or be thrown to be devoured by animals. They made no stop and travelled without eating or drinking water, the day passed and late when it was already sunset, the wagon left the road and went across the fields, passing though the grass and shaking on the uneven ground, thenceforth they advanced till they made a curve behind a small hill, there the driver finally stopped the wagon; he did it pulling abruptly the reins of the ram and then jumped to the ground, always being watched carefully by the old caged man.