The Eastern Dwarfs: Part Two - The Underground Journey Page 18

  When they finally stepped onto the house surroundings, the first thing they saw was the so called ram, the animal was under a small roof, eating hay, his owner ran to hug him. “Oh what a great joy! I thought I would never see ye again!” The old dwarf exclaimed.

  At this moment the house door opened, and from inside it came a dwarf woman, she had tears coming from her eyes, and her face was red like a ripe strawberry. She stood at the door sill, staring at the newcomers, as if not believing what she was seeing. Troco came to her and opened his arms. “I’m back home, finally, and…”

  She slapped his face, interrupting him. “Troco! Ye filthy bastard dwarf! Where was ye?”

  Troco replied, rubbing his face: “I was...”

  She interrupted again with another slap on his face. “Shut ye mouth out! I thought ye was dead! What happened?”

  Troco replied as he rubbed both his cheeks: “I was…”

  “Don’t even tell me!” The dwarf woman interrupted one more time. Now she looked over his shoulder towards the other ones. “And who are these? Don’t say to me ye left me desperate to join a party of spree and vagrancy!”

  “No, my dear Kalinka! These are my saviors! They rescued me from the pit in which I fell in!” Troco argued.

  “Ye fell in a pit? Oh my… I told ye to not go too far looking for these damn stalks! Ye could have died!” She said.

  “Yes! I could! But thanks to these courageous adventurers I’m alive!” He replied.

  Kalinka looked at the dwarfs askance. “Is it true? Well then… So why don’t ye ask them to enter? It is cold out there! Come! Come in ye all!” She spoke as she pulled Troco inside and motioned to the others to come in.

  In no time everyone was inside the house, and the door was closed by the sturdy dwarf woman. The company could feel the warm ambience around, it was a small house but clean and cozy. There was something being cooked in an oven and the smell spread around; in a fireplace, wood was burning and there was a table with many bottles and food on it. But the thing that most took the attention of the dwarfs was something else, a young dwarf woman, dressed neatly and with a gracious aspect, a beautiful young one, as they came to notice. Rurur got especially interested in her. “Who is this beauty?” He whispered.

  “Don’t find us more problems.” Olaf replied quietly.

  Rurur just kept looking at the young dwarf woman, fascinated.

  “Be welcome! If it is as my Troco says, then we owe ye! Stay the time you need, rest and eat.” Kalinka spoke.

  “I could offer ye to stay as much as ye like, we are soon going back to our valley and this house will be empty.” Troco spoke.

  “We can’t stay much, sir, we must leave soon and take our way back.” Thuor said as he sat on a wooden chair, the other dwarfs also found seats.

  “Huuum... Where are ye going?” Kalinka asked.

  “Our destiny is the lair of the Steel Fists.” Thuor replied.

  “Steel Fists Stronghold! I have an uncle living there, well… Maybe he is dead already.” Kalinka spoke. “Anyway, a place worthy of visiting, for sure, guess they are better than us now inside their lava caves, at least when it comes to avoiding cold.”

  “Have ye ever been there?” Olaf asked.

  “No, but I plan to take a look on that place before I die, many kin of mine told me about wonders inside it, something only dwarfs living under a Vulcan could carve and forge.” Kalinka continued.

  “It is true.” Thuor said. “The Steel Fists are known by their crafts, no other house among all the seven ones can beat them in skill when it comes to manufacturing, big works.”

  “Which family are ye from?” Rurur broke in.

  Kalinka was now serving the table with many pots and cups.

  “My father was a Thick Beard dwarf, and my mother a Coal Lock one. They were travelers, traders.” Kalinka replied.

  “What about ye, Troco?” Olaf asked.

  “Me? I have all my ancestry in the house of the Thick Beards, but a distant forefather was RockFoot.” Troco replied.

  “We are all RockFoot! I mean... Except for this one.” Olaf said pointing to Montaron.

  “Oh really? Where are ye from then?” Kalinka asked Montaron.

  This one smiled constrained as he rubbed his head.

  “Herm... He is... Thick Beard, for sure… But he is about to move, for he found an old lineage of his family in the Steel Fist clan.” Olaf intervened, trying to dissimulate.

  Kalinka looked doubtfully, then shrugged. “I would say, not criticizing ye my fellow one, a dwarf should stay where he was born. Moving to cousins’ houses is something problematic, ye know. Sharing the same roof, not always a meek intimacy… Anyway one does what he wants. Who is up to drinking some very cold beer?”

  All the dwarfs raised their hands asking for the beverage.

  “Oh then I see I will need to open the barrel. Ganlia, could ye do it for our guests?” Kalinka spoke to the young dwarf woman.

  This one raised and went walking with her gracious ways to a corner of the room where a barrel was.

  “I totally forgot to introduce ye my daughter, Ganlia is her name.” Kalinka spoke.

  “Much of my pleasure, milady.” Rurur spoke.

  All the others just waved.

  Ganlia filled up a large bottle with beer and took it to the table, then served the dwarf’s cups.

  “Now, my noble guests, why don’t ye tell me about how did ye find my husband and why he says ye are his saviors?” Kalinka spoke as she dried her hands on her apron.

  “We were huuum… Travelling all the way through the underground passage. And we found your husband in a small pit, something like an old well, he could not climb up by his own.” Olaf spoke.

  “Ye see, Troco? Ye stupid stubborn dwarf! Ye could have died there! I left many times, looking for ye, but all I could see was snow after all. What was my surprise when the ram came back alone… Hunf… pigheaded dwarf…” Kalinka spoke.

  “But, but…” Troco muttered. “The pit was deep, and there was… Lizards inside it.”

  “How deep?” Kalinka asked, seeming suspicious.

  “Deep! Dark, cold, not to say about the lizards.” Troco replied.

  “Might be really annoying lizards for ye to talk so much about them!” Kalinka said, vexed.

  As Ganlia served Rurur’s cup with beer, he glanced at her with a gallant smile, the young dwarf woman was too innocent to get it, but Olaf was not, he kicked Rurur’s shin under the table.

  Kalinka came bringing plates, and after that she brought a pot full of ragout. “This is from our home at the valley, no animal can be fattened up here on the snow, and nothing grows among these rocks at this time of the year, except for these damn stalks!” She said as she served the food onto the dwarf’s plates.

  Olaf tried it and looked at the others surprised, the food was quite tasty for him. “Excellent flavoring, excellent taste.” He spoke.

  “Thank ye.” Kalinka replied, visibly pleased.

  “It is true, I can’t remember the last time we had a decent meal!” Torag spoke.

  Troco was now sitting in a corner, sleepy.

  “The underground passage, it is a very gloomy place isn’t it?” Kalinka spoke. “I wonder why ye choose the winter to do such a travel. Ye could use the road on the mountainsides to reach your destiny in summer. They tell many stories about this underground place, about dangers, like… Snakes… Not to say about how much one stumbles and falls there.”

  “They could take the outside road till the Entrance of the Sparrow, that would save them some walking in the darkness.” Ganlia spoke with her sweet voice.

  “Yes.” Kalinka spoke. “The Entrance of the Sparrow, not far from here, Troco could take ye there… If he firstly promises me to not enter the damn mountain again!”

  Everyone looked at the old dwarf, he was now snoring as he fell asleep.

  “Troco!” Kalinka shouted.

  He woke up wide eyed. “What?”

  Kalinka s
hook her head as she twisted her mouth. There the company had a most pleasant meal, the best one they had since they left the Red Star City, and the memories about all that happened inside the mountain became far, even the Sinister and all his malice were now almost forgotten in the dwarf’s minds, everyone was taken by the cozy house of this mountaineer family, the food, the beverage and the smells somehow made all them remember the past times when they dwelled inside comfortable halls, and even made them remember about their home, far away. Still for Rurur nothing there inside was so interesting as the daughter of Troco and Kalinka, the young Ganlia. The time passed and even with the urge to leave inside Thuor’s mind, he decided to stay a little bit more for somehow he found it fair to give the company a rest after all they had endured. But now the night had come, and the same darkness from inside the mountain came to cover the world outside it, even the sky was covered by heavy clouds.

  “I think it is wise for us to leave now.” Thuor said. “The road was passable, but if it began to snow, we could get stuck here.” Thuor said.

  “It is true. It did not snow in the last days, that is why ye managed to come. Not that I’m putting ye off my house but, I think that there will soon be no more chance for ye to leave.” Kalinka spoke.

  “Well then…” Torag broke in, rising from a chair. “What is a small rest among all the hard work we have been getting in? Back to the road, my lads, time to restart our suffering.”

  “I could stay here for a while, I mean, we were welcomed so friendlily.” Rurur said.

  “I think ye have something else than a friendly welcoming in your mind to wish to stay.” Olaf said, pulling Rurur from his chair and taking him towards the door.

  “Thank ye, milady Kalinka, your generosity will be remembered.” Thuor spoke.

  “I can say the same, master RockFoot, ye saved my Troco, and this old stubborn dwarf is all I have, no matter how much I scold him.” Kalinka replied, then she came to the kitchen and took from there a pie covered by a dishcloth. “Take it, it’s a salted pie that Ganlia made, she is a well skilled cook.”

  “This is most gentle!” Rurur exclaimed as he came and took the pie. “Thanks ye all ye gentle folks!”

  “Hey Troco! Time for ye to take our guests to the Sparrow Entrance! Go before it gets too late, go now!” Kalinka said pulling Troco.

  The company finally left the house, not before Rurur smiling and waving a last time to Ganlia, the young beautiful dwarf lady. But right when they stepped outside, the world made them remember about how cold and dark it was, very different from the dwelling they were leaving. Now Troco led the way holding a sconce, the wind began to blow hard, their robes and capes stirred and the first crystals of snow began to fall.

  “Good we left in time!” Torag spoke. “Otherwise we would have to pass the entire winter inside that house! Think how terrible it would be!” He said as he slapped Rurur’s back.

  “It is true!” Olaf broke in, talking loudly against the wind. “It is time for us to get back to where we belong! Under the rock!”

  The road was winding through the rock bulges, but was still passable for them, and they made all the way without much difficulty till they reached an arch in the mountainside. The entrance was adorned by dwarf runes carved on its rock, and under beyond it the darkness of the mountain interior.

  “Why is it called Sparrow Entrance?” Olaf asked.

  “They tell that those birds use it to enter the mountain by here, to look for insects and lizards inside it, leaving as soon as they get their food.” Troco spoke.

  Montaron just got troubled.

  “What is it, Montaron? Are ye afraid about insects? I’m quite sure they are just small crickets and beetles.” Torag said as he noticed it.

  “There ends our meeting, Troco. Thank ye for all your good provided services.” Thuor spoke.

  “All of my pleasure! My friends! Ye honor me by coming to my house! May one day our paths cross again, in better conditions I hope, then I will invite ye for a good meal and many bits of prose among good smoking and drinking.” Troco replied.

  Thuor waved a last time, then called his company to follow him inside the arch. One more time the dwarfs entered the mountain.

  B lack Vipers.

  Back in the time, when Montaron and his friend Bagard were still travelling after escaping from slavery, after crossing some landscapes and spending their boot's soles on the road, they came to rest in a friendly dwelling, a cozy inn in a small village where they were now sitting inside its tavern, a dark smoky place, but still comfortable for a pair of tired travelers.

  “Every day since we left the Golden City, that damned place, I think to myself how lucky we are to be here now.” Bagard spoke as he took a gulp of beer.

  He and Montaron were sitting at one of the many wooden tables inside the tavern, and there were other folks around, minding their own meals and drinks.

  “Luck.” Montaron said.

  “Well… Luck is the surname of a clever dwarf I know.” Bagard spoke as he smiled.

  At this moment, a man came and sat at their table, he smiled showing his rotten teeth, looking to both of them. “Can I sit here with you?” He asked, his waft revealing he was drunk.

  “You already did.” Bagard replied.

  “Thanks… I don’t think anyone else would allow me. These people look unfriendly.” The newcomer said.

  “What makes you think we are friendly?” Bagard asked.

  “Oh you… I saw you both chatting and smiling while you ate and drank. I do not see many people smiling around, do you?” The man asked.

  Bagard looked around to the dark tavern lightened by torches, there were folks sitting at the tables nearby, but as he just heard, they all had unfriendly miens, except maybe for the drunks, who actually looked like caring about nothing as they laughed and slapped the tables. Now a waiter came bringing the main course, roasted poultry and fries, he put it on the table and filled the cups with more beer, including the cup of the newcomer, who raised it while smiling as the beverage was leaked.

  “Thank you sir.” The man said as the waiter left, then he turned to the food on the table. “Oooh… Look at this… The fat on the poultry and on the potatoes makes them shine… It is delicious, that is for sure.”

  “For sure it is delicious.” Bagard said pulling the bowl to himself. “But it is enough for two only.”

  Now the man changed his mien to sad, he nodded. “Fine, I understand, but a cup of beer is enough to prove friendship, though I’m hungry and have not eaten anything since yesterday.”

  “You did not get to find any food, but were smart enough to find beverage enough to get drunk!” Bagard said.

  “The beverage? Oh no.” The man replied. “I just went from table to table asking for it, people preferred to fill my cup than to handle my rigmarole… Yet I’m still quite hungry if you ask.” He raised from the chair to leave.

  “Wait.” Montaron said. “Eat with us.”

  The man looked surprised, he sat back, looking at the dwarf, and one there could be sure about his honesty just by the way his eyes were now, he was really hungry and telling the truth, despite the fact he was drunk. “Thank you, my friend. You are the first one to reach me a hand for a while.” He said in a meek voice that did not even seem like coming from a drunken man, he took the cutlery and prepared to eat, somehow now looking ashamed and humble, as if he was just dramatizing before.

  Bagard looked at Montaron and shrugged, complacent, they all began to eat.

  “These are strange days, people are getting aggressive, and one can’t even start a good conversation. By the way, my name is Krug.” The man said.

  “That is true, but most comprehensible, there are war rumors about, everyone got concerned.” Bagard spoke as he took a piece of food to his mouth.

  “True.” Krug replied. “I know some folks who left towards the west, to fight.”

  “What about you? Why don’t you enlist to war?” Bagard asked.

  The ma
n now had his mouth full as he chewed and spoke: “Me? Oh no, not all of us from the Golden City are warriors, some are traders, some are shepherds, and some are lovers.”

  “And some are drinkers.” Bagard spoke.

  “Well… It is a job someone must do. But you talk about rumors of war, are you talking about something special you heard?” Kurd asked.

  “We have been cloistered for a while, and now that we left all we hear about on the roads are rumors of struggle and moving armies.” Bagard replied.

  “What do you mean with cloistered?” Krug asked.

  “Working inside a kitchen, for a long time.” Montaron said, full mouthed.

  “Oh you were… Cooks, that explains sharing food, folks who aren’t used to seeing much of it are not that generous, but one living in abundance of meals would for sure be more open to share.” Krug said.

  “So you say you are from the Golden City, why did we leave that lovely place?” Bagard asked.

  “Lovely… Hah… Lovely maybe for those rich enough to pay for everything it can offer, not for someone like me, no way.” Krug spoke, he was now holding the meat with his bare hands. “I could not handle that place anymore, it is fine if you have pockets full of coins, but one who walks among the streets looking for a job is treated like a dog! Even the slave traders would try to take you and sell you as an animal, once one of them whipped me in my back just for passing too close! Can you imagine it?”

  “Yes, I can.” Bagard replied.

  “I have a cousin who left towards the Large Inland Sea, there they find much fishing, and it is a good way to do your life, at least is that what they tell.” Krug continued.

  “Why did not you go with him?” Bagard asked.

  “Huuum…” Krug muttered. “I thought about it, but after all I decided that it would not match my skills, I’m no fisher, besides, they tell stories about giant water snakes on that sea, and some of these legends seem to have some grains of truth on them.”

  “No fisher, no warrior, no trader, no shepherd, how do you call yourself?” Bagard asked.

  “A friend maker! I mean, I lost the count of how many friends I made in my life, all this because I’m a good person.” The other replied.