Mikhal had travelled as fast as he could and after two days he reached the capital city Arnheim. He let the horse step over the cobblestones in the main street and looked at the every-day life taking place around him. Children were playing, a woman bought a loaf of bread from a baker. A merchant tried to sell some wares to a group of women, who had bought vegetables and meat pies. Normally he’d look around for a good place to perform and earn some coins, but he had more important things to do now. How long would they have before the army would be here? He didn’t know and he wished he had asked Trevor about an estimate before leaving. Although, thinking about it, he could provide enough information for the general to work out an estimation himself.
He rode straight to the palace and he asked the guards to speak with the king. At first they didn’t want to let him enter, but when he continued to insist he had important news they allowed to let him speak to first major commander Irmo of Royal Knights.
Not exactly the one Mikhal had wanted to speak, but it would have to do. Unfortunately, the man didn’t believe dwarves were invading, they hadn’t received any news of it and there was no way an army like that could cross the borders unnoticed.
“They are here,” Mikhal insisted. “If you don’t believe me, let me talk to your superior officer. Let me talk to grand commander Bendul.”
“The grand commander is otherwise engaged,” Irmo replied stiffly. “Come back later.”
“I have no intention to leave, this is important. Surely you must understand that. Would you really ignore a potential risk to the safety of our fine country and great king?” Mikhal could see his words made Irmo doubt. “We can stand here all day discussing the possible existence of a dwarven army. I will if I have to, but I’d rather not. Time is of the essence and this news must reach the grand commander.”
“Fine,” Irmo grumbled and he grabbed Mikhal’s shoulder. “You can speak to him, but if he tells you to leave, you will leave. Understood?”
“Yes sir.” If Trevor was right he wouldn’t have to worry about that, Trevor’s faith in the man would soon be tested.
The first major commander brought Mikhal to an office in the south wing of the palace, he barely looked at the display of wealth on the walls, in the form of tapestries and finely crafted golden wall-ornaments.
After the first major commander knocked on the door and a baritone voice from inside gave permission to enter, Mikhal opened the door and stepped in the spacious office. The first thing he noticed were the various maps on the walls and a big, round table in the middle of the room. The grand commander himself sat behind a desk and looked at him.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Greetings, grand commander, I am Mikhal, a bard. I bring news of an invasion.”
The thick eyebrows moved down in a frown. “What invasion?”
“Dwarves, sir,” Mikhal said as he walked in further. “They are marching west as we speak.”
“We received no news of an invasion,” Bendul stated. “Are you certain?”
“Trevor and I were in the hills when we saw them. He estimates their numbers at four-thousand at least. And they have these big moving blocks of steel and we don’t know what they are, but he’s certain it’s an invasion. They have their visors down.” While Mikhal enjoyed being a bard and describe past events in a grand and poetic fashion, there were times when straightforward information was the best.
Bendul was silent for a moment. “Were exactly were you when you saw the dwarves?”
“Sir, do you believe him?” the first major commander asked.
“We will send scouts to verify the story. If he lied I will hang him. If he spoke the truth, I don’t want to sit here and do nothing while they come closer.”
“But sir, the dwarves…”
“Have been our enemy once before, and that was a bloody war that lasted for twenty years. That it was peace doesn’t mean they can’t be our enemies again. We will confirm the invasion and get ready for war.” He looked at Mikhal. “The map.”
Mikhal went quickly to the map and showed the area where they had seen the dwarves.
Bendul looked at the location and then examined the location of the various outposts at the border. “If they moved between the outposts of the second major commanders Andrus and Moeni, used the cover of darkness to get close and take those outposts out, it is possible the other outposts didn’t notice what happened. If neither of them had time to light the warning signal.” He frowned at the map as his eyes moved from east to west, following the route the dwarves had most likely taken. “The hills are scarcely populated, they could stay undetected for a while. Meaning a bard coming with the news first is possible.” Bendul turned to Mikhal. “Where is Trevor?”
“There were prisoners, humans. Trevor went back to see if he could free them and get more information about the situation.”
Bendul nodded slowly and looked at the map again. “We’ll take care of it. I will send scouts to assess the situation, inform the king about the possible threat and, if he agrees, warn the population. You can be on your way, bard.”
“Sir, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Trevor seemed pessimistic about our odds if it would come to a battle. Their armour seems to be better than ours and he says they wouldn’t have brought those cubes with them if it wouldn’t give them some kind of advantage.”
“Noted. You may leave now.” Bendul turned his back at Mikhal and walked back to his desk.
Mikhal bowed politely and left the room. He sighed in relief, but then uncertainty struck. Now what? He had done his job, the army would get ready before the dwarves were here. What more could he do? Where could he go? He definitely didn’t want to be in the city when the dwarves would come.
After a moment of contemplating he decided he would leave the palace, leave the city and see if he could find Trevor. Since Trevor had given him the dagger, he had considered being captured as a possible outcome, maybe he could use his help.
He went back to the place where he had left the horse and got in the saddle. Riding over the cobblestones once more, Mikhal thought about the dwarves and tried to make sense of a sudden invasion, but he couldn’t come up with a reason why they would be here. Although most wars could be brought back to a single reason: greed. And dwarves did have a tendency for that.
A bit further down the street he saw someone he knew, the black-haired nobleman seemed to be deep in thought and hadn’t spotted him yet.
“Lemitsa!” he called out, quickly getting down from the horse.
Lemitsa looked up when he heard his name and nodded a greeting before he walked towards him.
“Lemitsa, you have to get out of the city.”
“Why?”
“The dwarves are invading. They are coming here.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“I saw their army, they are coming in this direction.” He saw Lemitsa wasn’t convinced. “I am not lying!”
“Bards tell stories for a living.”
“Yes, I have made up stories about princesses who turn into butterflies, but that is during a performance. Have I ever lied to you?”
Lemitsa shook his head.
“I suggest you go to the city Arthol,” Mikhal said. “Dwarves are not a seafaring people, take a boat there and go to Rotswel. You will be safe with our allies across the sea.”
“Why would you concern yourself with my safety?”
Mikhal looked at him. “Because you are a friend.”
“The last time you were here…”
“You used me to claim a prize in a treasure hunt for yourself, I remember, but you did repay me afterwards.” While he had felt betrayed at that time, in the end Lemitsa had shown decency and proved they could still be friends. “How is it with lady Trialca?”
Lemitsa shrugged. “We are not together anymore.”
That wasn’t really a surprise, but Mikhal didn’t want to linger and chat about the noble woman. “Lemitsa, if you decide to board a ship to Rotswel, please go to Lissel, where lady Catheryn lives. Take her with you.”
Lemitsa stared at him. “You are serious,” he uttered. “These dwarves really do concern you. You think they will defeat us.”
“That was Trevor’s judgement and I trust Trevor.”
“In that case, I thank you for the warning. Will you not flee with your lady yourself?”
“She… is not my lady yet. And… I will not flee. I will do what I can to help.”
“You are no warrior, Mikhal. You are a bard!”
“That doesn’t mean that I can’t make a difference!” Mikhal shouted, ignoring the few people who had stopped to see what was going on. While Mikhal usually did an effort to speak politely, with full words, when talking to nobles and scholars, there were times he just couldn’t be bothered anymore and abbreviated like all commoners did. It was the dialect he grew up with and it came more naturally.
Lemitsa smiled, he appreciated Mikhal for his eloquence and manners, not many commoners had that, but he appreciated him even more for these rare outbursts. “And you know I will think of myself first. I am no hero and I will not stay here and hope we will the battle. I will go to Rotswel and await the outcome of the battle. If we are victorious I will return. And I will bring your lady to safety.”
“Please do,” Mikhal said. “And, please, take this with you.” He let the pack slide down and rummaged through it. He retrieved a leather pouch from it and gave it to Lemitsa. “I have collected half of the promised amount. Give this to her father and let him know I will bring the rest as soon as I can. And tell lady Catheryn I love her with all my heart and will come to see her when I can.”
The baffled Lemitsa took the pouch. “You have half already?”
“Not just by performing,” Mikhal admitted. “I took some jobs too. In the big cities I listened to gossips and if there was a noble with a task and a reward, I would go there.”
“I… am impressed.”
Mikhal smiled, coming from Lemitsa that was a high praise. “I have to leave, take care of yourself.”
“You take care of yourself, Mikhal. There are few people I can tolerate around me and I am grateful for our friendship.”
First Mikhal nodded and then he embraced him. “Take care, Lemitsa. We will see each other again.”
“I will be very displeased if you break your word.”
Mikhal nodded to that and the two friends parted ways, Mikhal went back to the horse to leave Arnheim and go back towards the hills. Lemitsa went home. He told his parents and brother about the approaching dwarves and suggested they would leave. His father didn’t believe it would get that bad, even if the dwarves were coming, the army was more than capable to handle the threat. Lemitsa tried to persuade him, but his family didn’t want to leave their wealthy home just because a commoner told them to.
“In that case,” Lemitsa said, “I would like some money for a vacation, father. I always wanted to see Rotswel one day.”
“You never expressed interest in that country before,” his father grumbled.
“Even so, I would very much like to discover it now.”
“Fine!” Lord Artmer spat. “Flee, you coward.” With a stern expression he looked at his son and he crossed his arms. “I will give you money for the crossing, but I will not send you any additional money when you are there. When your funds dry up, you will be stranded, so spend it wisely.”
“I intend to do so.” Lemitsa nodded respectfully to his father and went to his room to pack his things.
***
The army of dwarves marched in a straight line to Arnheim. Any village they came across was no obstacle, they went in, marched through and came out, leaving destroyed houses and dead bodies behind. Survivors of the attack were taken prisoner.
“Anyone want to take bets on how long the battle is going to last?” Andrus asked. “Or if the king will surrender or not?”
“Sir, my money is on a quick victory for the dwarves and the king won’t surrender,” Steve said and then looked at the solder next to him. “What do you think, Pete?”
“I think the army will hold off the dwarves for a day or two, but the king will surrender when they start shooting the iron balls on Arnheim.”
Andrus tapped his lips with his index finger. “So, the soldier coming from a military family is saying the army is swept away, but the king will fight till the last man. The soldier coming from farmers has more faith in the strength of our army and the wisdom of our king. Trevor?”
“I think it’s good Steve is good at tracking,” Trevor said, lying on the ground of the cart.
The remark made Steve laugh and the other soldiers chuckled as well. Andrus shook his head with a smile on his face and looked at the camp while sitting against the bars with his back.
Trevor sat up and beckoned the others to come closer, so the dwarves wouldn’t overhear them. “This is what I think will happen,” he said in a hushed voice. “By now our army will have noticed the dwarves and have gathered enough men to outnumber them. They will put up a decent fight, but seeing how little our weapons do against them, the dwarves will be victorious. A retreat will be ordered and the soldiers will return to the city, putting up a second line of defence in front of the city, with additional forces and the knowledge they gathered during the first attack. The gates will be closed and the knights of the king will defend the palace. The dwarves will shoot their balls and possible try to push their cubes through the gates. Once they entered the city, the king will surrender when it’s obvious they will breach the defences of the palace.”
“But we do have some catapults on the walls,” Andrus reminded him.
Steve shrugged to that. “I think those will make some dents in the cubes, sir, but it won’t destroy them. It will kill some dwarves, no-one will survive a stone ball hitting you on the head, no matter what you have on it to protect it, but it won’t make much difference.”
Andrus nodded. “Is no-one going to put money on our army being victorious and that we will be released soon?”
The silence following the question was telling.
“Then we better find a way to escape. The best moment to do that is when the fight begins.”
Everyone in the cart looked at the iron bars, it didn’t seem like it had any weaknesses.
“We still have time to figure it out,” Andrus said, leaning back until his back was against the bars again and he closed his eyes. “Might as well enjoy the ride for now.”
***
As the dwarves continued west, the humans marched east. The two armies met on an open field, at a safe distance from the city. Further down the right was a forest. To the left was mainly grassland leading into the hills. Several streams of water curled through the area, coming from the hills and leading to the big river.
The dwarves shouted their war-cry and ran forward with their swords, battle-axes and war hammers high in the air. Despite their heavy armour they moved their limbs freely. The humans moved forward with their swords and shields, but the shields offered little protection and the swords couldn’t penetrate the armour or slid off the steel pipes running across it.
The human army did slow down the march of the dwarves and killed several of them by slicing their throats between the helmet and the armour, or incapacited them through another opening in a joint that was exposed during the battle, but their aim had to be true. There were no second chances. While the humans did manage to kill dwarves, by the time they had killed one, another dwarf had killed several humans.
Suddenly there was the sound of a whistle and the dwarves retreated as two cubes started to move forward. The retreat was watched with astonishment, because there was no reason for them to retreat. Soon the order to pursue the dwarves was given and the human soldiers followed them.
The two cubes continued forward and when there were no dwarves in front of them, two pipes on the front lowered with a grinding sound and unleashed white clouds.
The humans hit by the hot steam screamed out in agony. The cubes continued to move forward, going over the fallen soldiers and leaving bloody, mangled corpses behind. It unleashed the hot steam again and the human officer gave the signal for retreat. The humans fled the scene and the dwarves continued forward.
The people in the cage stared at the retreating army and the dwarves that went in pursuit.
“Well…” Andrus began. “It seems Steve was right, a quick victory for the dwarves. And more surprisingly, Trevor was wrong!”
“They’re not defeated,” Trevor said. “They need to regroup and rethink their strategy.” He looked at the machines. “I failed to anticipate that too.”
“That is probably what that fog was,” Andrus said. “They were hiding behind that curtain of hot steam when they came to my fortress, but how can they produce so much of it?”
“They must carry a lot of water with them too. Store it, heat it up with coal and release it.”
Steve shook his head. “Sir, just heating water can never produce steam like that.”
“That’s true,” Trevor muttered as he looked at Steve. “And don’t call me that.”
“What, sir?”
“I’m not in the army anymore, I’m not your superior officer. You don’t have to address me as such anymore.”
“Yes s-” Steve caught the warning look Trevor send him. “Okay,” he corrected himself quickly.
Suddenly Pete brought a finger to his lips to let his companions know they had to be silent. They all went silent and looked around, but there weren’t any dwarves approaching them.
“What?” Trevor whispered, but then he heard it too. A faint huffing and groaning. And a tingling sound like keys on a keychain. And then a soft, melodic voice.
“I could use some help.”
Pete stuck his arm through the bars and down the cart.
“A bit to the right… a little bit more.”
Pete felt something grab his finger and he gently pulled in his hand. He stared at the light-orange dragon, with a body as long as his hand and wings like a dragonfly. It held on to his finger with clawed hands and in the hind paws it held a ring with keys.
“Mikhal send me to free you,” the small dragon said. “I’m Linda Demmie Autumnleaf.” She glanced around like a nervous cat and lowered herself. “Please hide me, dwarves don’t like dragons. Even small fairy dragons like me.”
They quickly put the fairy dragon between them.
“Where did you get the keys?” Andrus asked.
“I observed for a while and when I saw who had the keys, I waited for a good moment to take them.”
“And where is Mikhal?” Trevor asked.
Linda pointed with her tiny paw to the left. “Close, but not too close. He moved with the army, but at a safe distance. He made a camp in the hills.”
“And Mikhal is…” Andrus said as he looked at Trevor.
“A bard.” He paused and smiled a bit. “A friend. We were together when we first saw the dwarves. He went ahead to warn the king, I stayed behind.”
Andrus nodded and looked around. There were dwarves all around them, but not in a closed formation. A large portion had followed the retreating humans, but there were still too many dwarves around them to try to escape.
“We need to cause a distraction,” Andrus said. “Something that will get most of them on our right side, so we can sneak away to the left towards the hills. Or we wait for the battle at Arnheim.”
Trevor shook his head when the second idea was mentioned. “That will be too late to escape. And I doubt they will send all the dwarves to attack the city.” He looked at the grazing mules. “If we manage to spook those and let them run towards the left…”
“I can do that!” Linda said as she flew up. “Open the door and hold on to something!”
“Wait!” Andrus said, but the fairy dragon slipped through the bars at the front and flew to the mules. “Crap. Keys!”
Pete hurried to grab the keys from the floor and scrambled to the door in the back to open it. Just as he unlocked it, Linda pulled on the left ear of the left mule, which brayed and ran to the left, the other following suit. The dwarves reacted immediately and ran towards the mules to stop them, but the mules were faster. The cart crashed into a tree and everyone fell against the bars. It wobbled dangerously, but didn’t fall over.
“Are we sure she’s here to free us and not to kill us?” one of the soldiers groaned.
“When the cart is unstable we try to topple it,” Andrus said. “Then we make a run for it. Linda, we need a sharp turn!”
Linda pulled on the ear again and the mule made another sharp turn to the left. When the wheels on the right side lifted from the ground, everyone in the cart moved to the left and the cart fell over, causing the mules to fall as well.
As the dwarves came closer they escaped one by one. Trevor was the first out, followed by Pete. Andrus pushed Steve ahead of the other soldiers and followed him. Behind them three more soldiers were able to escape before the first dwarves reached the cart and killed the next escaping soldier.
“We won’t make it,” Pete said after looking over his shoulder, the dwarves were surprisingly fast.
“We will,” Steve said as he grabbed a big stone from the ground. “I-”
“You are my best tracker,” Andrus said as he grabbed Steve’s arm and pulled him along. “You have no time for heroics. You and Pete stay with Trevor and I will-”
Linda joined them. “There is a stream ahead. They won’t drown in it, but they are heavy and the mud will slow them down.”
“Right. Everyone! Make a run for the water!”
Trevor reached it first and ran through the meter-wide, knee-deep water, followed by Pete, Steve and Andrus. When the soldiers behind them reached the water, so did the dwarves.
As Linda had predicted, the short dwarves didn’t cross the water as easy and the four gained distance on them. They ran towards the east to cross a second stream and then towards the south. By then they couldn’t see the dwarves anymore, but they continued running.
“Where to?” Pete asked over his shoulder.
“Arnheim!” Andrus said, deciding it on the spot. He watched Linda fly away, he wasn’t sure where to, but right now that didn’t matter.
“Are we going to join the army and fight, sir?”
“That would be suicide, but the grand commander needs to know about what it can shoot. And if he commands us to fight we will. Understood, soldiers?”
“Yes sir,” both Pete and Steve replied.
“Trevor?”
“I’m not a fool, I’m not going to fight there. If that is your plan, I will go further into the hills and try to find Mikhal.”
“Then what?”
Trevor didn’t answer that, he didn’t know. It would depend on what would happen next, but he knew his sword wouldn’t make a difference in the upcoming battle.
Suddenly Andrus stopped running, the others followed his example and looked at him.
“We need to warn them about the iron balls, but we need more information too. Maybe some of those dwarves are still following us. So… new plan! I go to Arnheim, you three capture a dwarf and when you have one you follow me. Preferably one with a beard and a gruff voice.”
Trevor sighed at the last addition of the plan. “Fine, we’ll capture a dwarf.”
“Like that one?” Steve asked, pointing in the direction where they came from.
Andrus looked at the dwarf covered in armour, he came down from the gentle slope, but he seemed to be alone. “I can’t assess the beard nor the voice from here, but it will do. New new plan! We capture that dwarf, interrogate and quickly go to Arnheim.”
“You know,” Trevor said after a sideway glance to Andrus. “You could have been a first major commander by now if you didn’t act like that.”
Andrus shrugged to that. “Steve, Pete, go to his right. Trevor and I will go to his left.” He watched the dwarf raise the battle-axe. “And I know everyone would like to have a sword right now, but we don’t have that luxury. Just get him down on the ground. Go!”
Everyone moved when the order was given, and the dwarf went towards Andrus and Trevor. The dwarf let out a battle cry and swung the blade towards them, both men backed away to stay out of reach. Mikhal appeared behind the dwarf and grabbed the handle of the battle-axe when the dwarf raised it above his head.
“I may be out of steam, but not out of strength!” the dwarf roared and pulled the axe down, pulling Mikhal over his back.
Mikhal fell to the ground and grimaced when landed on his shoulder. Before the dwarf could kill the bard, Trevor grabbed one arm and Steve the other. Pete and Andrus quickly joined in and they pushed the dwarf on the ground, who cursed them and their mothers for doing that.
Trevor removed the helmet and looked at the face of their captive while Steve helped Mikhal up. Aside from a scar on the forehead, the skin of the dwarf was smooth and his beard was black. With his dark-brown eyes he glared at them.
“Why are you invading us?” Andrus asked as he crouched down next to the dwarf, who didn’t answer him. “Those moving things that shoot iron balls, what are those?” The dwarf just looked at the sky. “You mentioned you were out of steam, but not out of strength, what did you mean with that?” Andrus looked at the glaring dwarf. “Say, that is some fine armour you have here,” he tried, moving his fingers over the breastplate. “How did you make it?”
When the dwarf still refused to talk, Andrus sighed and turned to Trevor. “Would you like to try?”
“I will persuade him to talk,” Trevor promised, and Andrus gave his approval with a nod.
“You can torture me all you want, I won’t say a thing!”
“It might take a while though,” Trevor muttered, frowning at the dwarf.
Mikhal sat down. “Don’t waste your time, it’s not like they accomplished that much. They put some iron sheets together, probably glued together with resin…”
“Don’t you know how difficult it is to make big sheets of steel?”
“And the new weapons don’t seem to be as strong as the last weapons I saw,” Mikhal continued, ignoring the previous comment.
“Are you joking? Our new steel is stronger than it ever was!”
“What did you do with it then?”
“I’m not going to explain that, you wouldn’t understand half of what I told you anyway.”
Mikhal nodded slowly. “You’re probably right. I don’t understand a thing about weapons or how to make them. But why are you here? To show off what you can do?”
“You don’t need to know.” The dwarf grumbled. “Just know that we intend to stay and with us we bring the future! Those who will not surrender will be killed, that is all you need to know.”
Trevor looked from the dwarf to Andrus and then to Mikhal. “Mikhal, lend me your knife. They took mine when they captured me.” He watched how the bard pulled a simple knife from under his cloak and offered him the handle. Without a word Trevor took it and with a swift movement stabbed the dwarf under his chin.
The dwarf gurgled and grabbed his throat, blood oozing through his in metal covered fingers.
“He wouldn’t have talked and we’re wasting time,” Trevor said as he inspected the belt and pulled a short sword and a dagger from their sheaths. “Steve, Pete, these are for you. I’ll take the axe.” He noticed Mikhal stared at the dwarf and he seemed a bit pale. “Thanks,” he said as he offered him the knife back.
Mikhal blinked and looked at the blood-stained knife.
“I’m sure you’ve seen blood before, you told me you sometimes catch a rabbit.”
“Not exactly the same thing,” Mikhal muttered as he took the knife back and he took in a deep breath. “What do we do now?”
“Back to Arnheim,” Andrus said. “We need to be there before those moving things arrive.”
“We have one horse,” Mikhal said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. “I tied it to a tree on the other side of the hill.”
“Good. I’ll take it and go to the city. You four come as well, but stay a safe distance away.”
“Sir, what happened to reporting to the grand commander and fight when we are ordered to?”
Andrus looked at Steve. “I only said that if the grand commander gave us the order we would fight. If you’re not there to get any orders, you can’t die or be taken prisoner by those dwarves. I have another task for you. Keep an eye on the situation from a distance, act only when needed.” He glanced towards Trevor. “Consider him your superior officer.”
“Now wait a moment,” Trevor began to protest.
Andrus rose a finger to silence him. “You served under me as my first officer and you were very capable. I trust you and I need your help. I need that loyalty you had for me back then.”
“You always had that, even when I left the army,” Trevor said, and he looked at the soldiers. “Very well. I’ll take command of them.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I expect you two to follow my orders.”
Both soldiers replied to that with a ‘yes sir’.
“Mikhal, you are free to do as you please, but I may need your help.”
“That’s why I didn’t leave the country. I’ll get the horse.” Mikhal quickly left and when he returned he gave the reins to Andrus. The fairy dragon sat on his shoulder, her tail gently moving from side to side.
“Be careful,” Trevor said as he watched Andrus get in the saddle.
“You too.” Andrus turned the horse and rode towards the capital city.
Trevor looked at the three men with him, two soldiers and a bard with a fairy dragon. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. “We’re leaving too.”
*** © Mariska Bekker ***